Something happened the other day that made me realize how much I beat myself up for not being able to match my wealthy ex-husband financially, the wealthy ex-husband who doesn’t pay child support.
Franny came back from a week with her dad’s family and announced that her grandmother had given her a thousand dollars as a holiday present.
In case you missed that, let me say it again, for emphasis. My former mother-in-law gave my 11-year-old daughter A THOUSAND DOLLARS to spend on whatever. Chew on that as you will.
So Franny decided she wanted to buy the latest iPhone, the 5s, and jettison the archaic flip-phone I got her just for calling and texting, because I really don’t want her to have internet access on her phone. She asked me what data plan she had. Of course, I had no idea. So I called AT&T and learned that I would have to add a data plan for her phone, which is under a family plan, which would increase my monthly bill.
I felt my heart race and my eyes almost pop out of my head: the bodily sensations I get when I’m stretched seemingly beyond my limits, which is pretty much all the time these days.
The refrain, “I can’t afford this but I have to pay for it!” jolted around in my head. And as I sat on my bed wheezing and sweating and mentally cursing the “fact” that I had to shell out an extra $50 a month to support Franny’s new phone, I had an epiphany. And this is what the ephiphany said:
I don’t HAVE to pay her phone bill. I can say no. I can put down a boundary.
So I told her I couldn’t afford a data plan for her iPhone, that an iPhone was never part of her phone bargain with me. I told her she would need to ask her dad to pay for it if she wanted to get an iPhone.
Confession: I didn’t say it that calmly. I believe I might have sighed profoundly, perhaps sunk my head into my hands, and mentioned, with a tinge of bitterness, one or two things about the gaping chasm between her dad’s and my financial realities.
I’m not proud of bleeding out in front of Franny. But the financial hemorraging of the last year has taken a toll on me. Part of the reason it’s taken a toll is that I haven’t set proper financial boundaries where my kids are concerned. And part of the reason I haven’t set proper financial boundaries is that I feel ashamed for not being able to keep up with Prince’s deep pockets. The fact that both Prince and Luca berate me for not being able to split things — private school, swanky summer camp — 50/50 hasn’t helped.
But that shouldn’t matter. The only thing that should matter is my financial reality. And until I sweep away my perfectionism and the ludicrous shame of being unable to split costs with a zillionaire, I will keep busting my own boundaries and saying completely inappropriate things in front of my kids.
My own mother struggled to set down boundaries. She was a powerhouse music teacher who kept the family afloat when my dad was out of work for two years. She veered from being uber-high-functioning to a sobbing wreck, holed up in bed with a one-pound bag of Peanut M&Ms and Bonanza blaring in the background. We grew up in a hoity-toity town, and she taught at my hoity-toity school, and it could not have been easy on her when I came home talking about the mansions my peers lived in, and their closets bursting with Fair Isle sweaters and Izod shirts and clogs.
Instead of telling me a new Fair Isle sweater was not in the family budget, she would get it for me, and then take to her bed with M&Ms. This was a very confusing message. She moaned about not having enough money but took me on shopping sprees. She told me how happy she was being my mother but erupted in sobs when I asked her seemingly innocuous questions, like what are we having for dinner? She told me daily how much she loved me, but her love often felt like an albatross.
I get my mother’s histrionics now. I have buckets of empathy for what she must have gone through, and buckets of terror for what I might put Franny through if I don’t woman up and lay down my boundaries.
The best way to keep from turning Franny into a junior therapist is for me to start saying no. No, I’m not paying your phone bill. No, I’m not buying you those brown Doc Martens. No, I’m not treating you to an afterschool Frappuccino.
Changing my mindset about boundaries feels about as effortless as moving tectonic plates. But I figure if I force myself to say no more often, I’ll stop feeling so bad about it, which means I’ll stop resembling a shrill harpy, which means Franny will learn that having boundaries is actually a good thing.
And maybe she’ll grow up feeling entitled to say no.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you telling her that you couldn’t afford the data plan for an iPhone, and telling her the Prince would have to foot the bill was the right thing to do. With that said, it’s not the kids fault that you haven’t set financial boundaries- I know that is most likely driven by guilt and the fact that we hate to say no and disappoint our kids, but it’s on you to fix that now. And fixing it is the right thing to do. Teaching your kids how to live within their means has so much value, I hope you know that. The quality of the time you spend with them is far more valuable than anything you could buy them, and you have two children who know, without a doubt, that you love them.
It seems like this is a good year for declaring boundaries: one of my new year’s resolutions is to stop being a martyr, and it appears that I’m not the only one (thank you for the company). It is such difficult work to undo years of training, but I’m convinced it can be done.
I have been practicing this on my daughter Katherine pretty successfully (it’s the other people in my life I struggle with!), and I think that the trick is to believe it when you say it, and to say it with a smile. “Mom, can I get a Frappuccino?” is answered with “Not today! Today we’re (doing homework/heading to the beach/whatever).” If she insists, I smile again and say, “I’d love to buy you everything you ask for, but then you’d have a mouthful of cavities and I’d have an empty bank account, so it’s not going to happen.” Then I change the subject. It’s shockingly effective.
Another technique I use is that we talk about impulse shopping. I say, “If something is really important to you, it will still be important in a week or a month. If you really want this _____ then write it down, and if you still want it in a week or a month, we’ll talk about it again.” I’ve found that most desired items are forgotten as quickly as they are asked for, but that those that come up again and again are truly important to her, and then I can decide how to prioritize them (birthday, etc.) and budget for them, or say, “I’m sorry sweetheart but that is just too much money for us right now.” (She’s asking to go to Hawaii. It isn’t going to happen.) When we’re out and she starts begging for things, I just say “No impulse shopping!” and it doesn’t sound like, “Ohmygod you have no idea how broke we are!” it’s just “I’m teaching you proper spending habits,” which is a lot easier on me (and on her).
Now. If I can just learn how to set better boundaries with my family of origin…..!
I hope my tips help you in some small way. I’m cheering for you!
Hi Andrea — agreed, mea culpa on the boundaries issue. So, now, on top of having guilt that I can’t pay for stuff, I have guilt that she feels bad that I can’t pay for stuff! Seriously, guilt doesn’t help anything. Accepting reality does.
Hi PollyAnna — FANTASTIC tips! I love your attitude.
I hope my tips help. This is something I’m working hard on over at my place, so it’s something I think about a lot.
I have one more idea.
Do some volunteering with people much worse off than yourselves. It helps to gain perspective, and it helps to realize how rich you really are, instead of just feeling broke. Katherine and I hand out Luna bars to the folks holding signs on the street, and it’s such a small thing but it’s also a reminder of how fortunate we are. We’ve helped with a homeless shelter, and she’s trying to get involved with an animal shelter (we’re on the volunteer waitlist). Working with people (or, I suppose, animals) who have less than we do is a reminder of our wealth (small though it sometimes seems), and helps her to see that even when I say “no” to what she wants, she’s still incredibly fortunate. It also helps her to feel capable and powerful: it is an amazing feeling to help someone else, and even a child can get that feeling.
Remember, you’re coming from a place of abundance: you are giving Franny and Luca the best of yourself, and you’re teaching them valuable lessons. This is less about scarcity (not having enough to buy them things) than it is about the abundance of self-reliance. When you come at it from that perspective, it’s a lot easier to say no.
Franny is actually extremely compassionate. She’s volunteered at a local pet adoption for two years, every weekend. I think it’s just very confusing for her to live in two homes with such disparate lifestyles. And I also think she’s encouraged by her dad to get me to pay for stuff I can’t afford.
Marianne – thank you for weighing in! I am grateful for your wisdom and am glad you and your kids have thrived after such an ordeal.
I totally could relate to this! Thanks for your insight and honesty. My son’s father does very well for himself and lives a very comfortable lifestyle…which good on him…he earned every penny by hard work, education and determination. I hope my son carries the same work ethic! I am a special needs teacher and you know we don’t make much money. However, my son gains valuable lessons from me as well. He knows about budgets, earning, waiting, patience and what is most important. Experiences, not things. Keep up the great work!
I too live day to day on quite a bit less money that my kids’ dad has. He owns a highly profitable business which we had started together during the year our divorce began and I was cut out of it legally soon after the divorce started.
The kids and I live in a high income suburb of a major city and I often struggle with my kids seeing the huge discrepancies in their mom and dad’s current incomes. I wish I was able to provide more to them and this is very frustrating and upsetting to me.
When the kids don’t bend to their dad’s will or do exactly what he expects, he punishes them financially. Our daughter in college dreads asking for even basic things that she needs like doctor co-pays, medications, text books and money for food because of his frequent angry tirades that he unleashes when she does ask him.
My ex fought me for custody for 2 yrs in court, but once he got some, he often chooses not to see the kids during his assigned times. Instead he devotes his money to renovating his home and enjoying long vacations with his mistress.
Wait, Nancy — surely you’re talking about MY ex? LOL.
I know everyone says not to involve children in money matters, but growing up with a mail carrier dad and a mom who didn’t go back to work until I was 12, my brother and I knew not to ask for outrageous things. I needed braces growing up but didn’t get them until I could pay for them myself, because it was just not in the budget.
I, too, am reduced to throwing my head in my hands at times in front of my kids. Money is so beyond tight I have to alternate paying bills late every month. My kids narcissistic father pretends not to have any money, then takes me to court to force me to pay half of whatever his newest idea is for Grant and Kristy. He will not buy the things they need so I end up doing it.
This year court will be for the promise he made to Grant to make me pay half of the very pricey private high school he wants Grant to attend. Sometimes I don’t even have money for a gallon of milk and Ted always seems to get his way in court, so I am beyond stressed.
I’ve just given up trying to get child support from my ex (we never married) who is from a very wealthy family. His parents give him an allowance, he has cash in the bank, a house which is paid for and he’s a permanent student at the age of 33 so he has no ‘income’ which could be garnished. I can’t even afford to take him to court since I don’t live in my home country (my rights are sketchy and my kid only has his nationality) and I can’t afford the risk of taking him to court since my savings from a recent layoff is the only thing keeping us from ruin.
I was too naive, too hopeful and too proud to think things could have turned out this way. I never protected myself and now I’m managing the care of a three year old who is totally tramatized by our recent move away from his beloved daddy. I’ve been feeling very alone and overwhlemed by all of it and then I found you.
Thank you for sharing your story. It’s a kind of mental preparation for what I will face during the next 15 years and at least I don’t feel so stupid for having gotten myself into this mess. If a smart woman like you can find yourself here, at least I’m in good company.
Oh, yes! You’re not the only one.