In 2011, a few years into single-motherhood, my daughter (9 years old at the time) told me that she didn’t want me to be her mom anymore. This post was written late one night during one of the worst times of my life. Here’s the original post. Scroll down to see my update, written 12 years later.
Talking To Kids About Money
I am driving my daughter to her friends house for a sleepover. We are making small talk. I'm still in denial that she's growing up and my almost-nine-year-old wants to spend the night away from home. It was just two minutes ago that she needed Mommy for everything. She's growing up faster than I am.
She says, "I can't wait to see Lilly's house."
"Why?" I ask.
"Because I want to see if she lives in a fancy house or if she is poor."
At this point, I'm a little woried, but I have to ask anyway. "Do we live in a fancy house?"
She looks at me as if I just asked her if I was a purple unicorn. Like, I'm asking her a trick question because the answer is so obvious.
"No, mom. We're poor."
Ok. Ouch. That was below the belt. Regaining my focus, I ask, "What's the difference between a fancy house and a poor house?"

