Mindful of Their Money

"...Big money goes around the world

Big money give and take

Big money done a power of good

Big money make mistakes..."

–Rush, Big Money

Our oldest Beatrice banked another big chunk of money. This was the third summer she's worked nearly full time as a camp counselor for a summer day camp in town. She loved working with the kids, but sometimes the days felt super long working with the 7- to 10-year-olds. 

Another big chunk of money banked, though. Four years ago, we opened mutual funds accounts for both our kids and explained the importance of saving for the future, including college and/or other life expenses. We contribute to them monthly and encouraged Beatrice to contribute the majority of her summer earnings to the account. Plus, she'll continue to babysit during the school year for extra cash. Our youngest Bryce hasn't been old enough to get a job yet and will be able to soon. Babysitting will not be one of them. 😆

Both kids also receive an allowance for weekly home chores. Bryce would spend it all immediately if we didn't make them save some of it. Beatrice has been much better at saving/spending her allowance and job money. Now that she's driving, she's helping to pay for her car insurance, which doubled our monthly rate. We want her driving, but now we understand why some parents don't want their kids driving as a teenager. The cost of any kind of insurance these days is definitely a future rant post. 

Financial literacy has been a priority for us to pass on to our kids. Something we didn't get much of growing up. Our parents did the best they could with what they had, and neither family had a lot, but we do wish we learned to be more fiscally responsible at an earlier age. I saved for my first car in high school and my parents co-signed a car loan for the rest of what I owed.

Things went south financially after high school. I did pay for most of my bumpy college ride, eventually and proudly receiving my degree. But, I began to sink myself deeper into credit card debt, which exponentially became worse during my first marriage. When I met my now wife Amy, I had no choice but to file for bankruptcy. The debt spiral I was in was of my own making (and my ex's). Since then, I've rebuilt my credit and we began saving for retirement and eventually our kids' futures. 

Part of that savings is to have a few months of emergency cash just in case. Less than half of U.S. adults have emergency money saved, so we're very grateful we've been able to save, period. We've had some tough financial times in the nearly 30 years we've been together. Those weren't without fights and relationship strains either, but we've always worked together to figure out what we needed to do. 

This is why financial literacy is so important for us and our kids. Beatrice met recently with our/her financial advisor, something that was unfathomable to me when I first met Amy. He explained how her money was being invested, what her return has been, and the importance of the longer-term investment strategy. Beatrice had relevant questions that he answered clearly and succinctly. We have no idea where financial adulting will take both our kids, but if we have anything to do with it, they'll be mindful of their money.

The First Day Is Never the Last

 "...From first to last
The peak is never passed
Something always fires the light
That gets in your eyes
One moment’s high
And glory rolls on by
Like a streak of lightening
That flashes and fades
In the summer sky..."

–Rush, Marathon

And then it's 11 years later.

From kindergarten and second grade to a sophomore and a senior in high school. 

Every year I take nearly the same first-day-of-school photo with our two kids, Beatrice and Bryce. It's in front of our house, the same house my wife Amy and me have lived in for 20 years. I had decided back way back when the kids started school that I didn't want to do the kids-holding-sign thing stating what year and class they were in. Partly because I didn't want to stress our kids out by holding a sign; I just wanted to capture the easiest first-day-of-school pictures I could, while getting Bryce to smile without sticking their tongue out.

Every year I take nearly the same photo, and it's been a blessing to experience how our kids have grown over time. It's also a blessing that they still let me take the first-day-of-school pictures. And it's been a continuous blessing of how much they enjoy school, more so that they're both in high school. When they were younger, they couldn't wait to show us their classrooms during open house. However, the first day of school wasn't always the best, and middle school had its lumpy bumps as a beautiful mess in progress. 

They've both found their community in high school theater and choir and couldn't wait this year for the first period of day 1, which was choir. We can't wait to watch the murder mystery play Beatrice is directing this fall and hear all the amazing choir concerts throughout the year. And then there's the choir festival next spring in Anaheim, which we'll again chaperone. The keyword here is Disney, of course. Hopefully Bryce will do another duet and/or solo this year, too. Plus, it's Beatrice's senior year. Nope, I'm not crying yet, but I will be.

It's 11 years later and our kids have grown exponentially, physically and emotionally. Yes, their prefrontal cortexes are still developing, but it's been a joy watching them develop while providing them nurturing guidance and becoming a stable through line to all their peaks and valleys. 

That's why I'm quoting Rush lyrics again from one of my favorite writers (and drummers), Neil Peart, who passed away in 2020. Not only because I saw the band play again this year with their new amazing drummer, and will see them again this fall, because the music still profoundly inspires me 44 years after becoming a super fan. Marathon is one of my favorite songs (the song quote above), although when asked what my favorites are, my response today is "all of them". Marathon captures the beauty of life over time when you live it to your fullest without burning out:

"...You can do a lot in a lifetime
If you don’t burn out too fast
You can make the most of the distance
First you need endurance —
First you’ve got to last..."

You just need the mindful endurance to last and to treat every moment as a blessing. To not fear failure or become weighted with regret. To always be learning and trying new things, to stretch your innate capacity for elasticity while curbing complacency. To never diminish the soul's sunlight burning bright within by embracing love and empathy from birth to passing. Amy and I have practiced and embodied all these things since before our kids, and have done our best to impart on them since having kids.

It's 11 years later, the age of adulting is here, and ultimately their journey is theirs to live, not ours. It's true that any day can feel like a first day, but the first day is never the last. 

Another Majestic Moment

"...You move me

You move me
With your buildings and your eyes
Autumn woods and winter skies
You move me
You move me
Open sea and city lights
Busy streets and dizzy heights
You call me
You call me..."

–Rush, Analog Kid

We sat in stillness watching the setting sun cast an orange-gold glow over the Pacific. The only sounds were the strong sea winds whipping through the grassy hills around us and the far-off yipping cries of coyotes. Just below us were a group of Tule Elk bulls grazing, which was something we weren't sure we'd see. Their silhouettes in the distance were soothing. I rolled down the window and took a picture. 

Earlier in the day, a park docent told us that the Tule Elk were primarily from the Central Valley and were nearly wiped out. Two pair of mates were brought to the Point Reyes National Seashore where we were on this trip. Those two pairs eventually because over 600 elk in the area. But he told us that we may not see any unless we hiked a few miles up to the north end of the park. 

What my wife Amy wanted to see was the sunset and it was coming fast. We decided we wouldn't make it in time doing a hike to the water, so instead, drove back along the road to the top of the highest hill, turned around, and parked on the side of the road. That's when we saw the Tule Elk grazing. One of them looking up, watching us intently, but then continued to graze. 

It was the last hoorah before school year started. Our kids Beatrice and Bryce stayed home to hang out with their friends, and Amy and I took off for some together, just the two of us. Now that the kids are older, and not like we were when we were young (thank goodness), we've been taking more trips without them. It's great, especially now that Beatrice is driving. They take care of the house and our pets. Of course, we miss them, and they miss us, but adulting is here to stay. Yeah! That continues to be an interesting new phase in our family's lives and one we embrace fully! 

Point Reyes and Inverness where we stayed were spectacular. Only three hours from us, it's a place we'd never been to before. Another highlight was hiking down to the Point Reyes Lighthouse. And then back up again. A very steep 313 stairs plus another 50+ feet of pathed path with guardrail fencing on either side due to the sheer drops of hundreds of feet down the cliffs into the ocean. It's also the windiest and foggiest location on the west coast, and although it was very windy, it was clear and beautiful. The "caution" sign at the top of the stairs started with the warning "The 313 stairs are wicked hard."

The stairs weren't that hard for us, but the vertigo was. We dubbed it our Angels Landing, because we actually finished it. If you’re not familiar with Angels Landing, it’s an iconic rock formation in Zion 1,500 feet tall with a hiking trail that does not have any guardrails, just heavy iron chains bolted directly into the red rock for hand support. That's it. Amy and I attempted it in 2007, nearly making it to the end (or midway, we were never sure). The fear of falling kicked our butts back down to ground level.

I have a fear of heights, and yet I always challenge myself to do activities that include heights. Why? Because I don't want to miss out -- and it always freaks me out -- and I still do it. Same with Amy. Neither of us could finish Angels Landing, but we finished the Point Reyes Lighthouse climb. I stayed focused on the stairs, held onto the guardrails, and never looked down the cliff side. 

It was worth it. In the nearly 30 years I've been with Amy, I've learned that everything we do together is worth it, strengthening our bond exponentially. Even if I balk at first. I didn't think we should park on the side of the road to watch the sunset because I was afraid we'd startle the Tule Elk bulls and they'd rush our car, which they can do during mating season. 

We didn't startle them, though. We stopped and sat in stillness watching the setting sun cast an orange-gold glow over the Pacific. The Tule Elk silhouettes in the distance soothed us. One of them looked up toward us and then continued to graze. We smiled and touched hands, feeling blessed by another majestic moment together, one of millions stored forever in our hearts. We missed our kids, but we know we've instilled in them the same love of moments like these, receiving hearts from them when I texted them our pictures. 

The Don't Fall Mantra

As I fell to the sidewalk, the only thing I could think of was us telling each other: "Don't fall."

My wife Amy and I have been sharing that mantra with each other for the past few years when we go for workout walks and mountain hikes. We feel healthy and are in pretty good shape, although I won't say "for our age". That's too limiting. Last year we bought matching shirts that said "A Little Fit / A Little Fat" that were a big hit at last year's Wharf to Wharf. We're older parents now with teens in tow and grateful we haven't had many debilitating injuries. Our kids are grateful, too. 

I had knee surgery in 2014, which put an end to my running days. That was because of a torn meniscus that proved to be worse than the MRI showed. I had fallen a few times on runs prior to that, most likely damaging an already tearing meniscus. I recovered and moved on to walking and hiking. No bike riding, though. We've tried but just never became a biking family.

Last year Amy rolled her ankle on a hike. She was sore but thankfully wasn't out of commission too long. Second to "don't fall" is our rule of never taking your eyes off the road or trail we're walking on. Especially mountain trails. That's what she did, and her foot slid off a root she didn't see to anticipate adjusting her footing. 

In 2017, I did have a bizarre infection health scare that I never fully understood at the time or since. One that put in the hospital for night and left me with an awkward and painful healing process. Our kids were much younger then but old enough to be worried. It certainly sucked but I eventually recovered. 

Otherwise, we've each had other physical tweaks in our necks, backs, and knees. We recovered nicely from each of those, taking care of ourselves and not pushing it when we couldn't or shouldn't (except me at times unfortunately). Each time our kids remind us to slow down and take care of ourselves. I'm six years older than Amy and I was 42 when our oldest Beatrice was born and 44 when our youngest Bryce was born. When I look back at one of the earliest posts on Get Off The Ground about being an older parent, I have to smile. 

The question is – do Amy and I worry about the fact we're older having children? Not really. I mean, yes, I imagine what it will be like, banking on the fact we'll be in pretty good shape mentally, emotionally and physically – along with having contingencies in place just in case. But no, we're not that worried about it at this point.

So, here we are. We've made it with falls and all.

"Don't fall." The words collided with my other thought in that moment -- How did I lose my balance? After walking our dog Jenny thousands of times over the past six years, I had never lost my balance. Until I did. 

I had reached down to pick up Jenny's poop, just like the thousands of times before that, and instead of standing back up cleanly, I spun slowly and fell to the sidewalk onto my right side. I tried to break the fall with my hand holding Jenny's leash, but it didn't work. I'm lucky I didn't break my wrist trying. I felt my ribs compress upward and inward. It hurt. A lot. 

I laid there for a moment, still holding the leash, and Jenny just stared at me, waiting to finish her walk. I stood up and was able to walk. The right side of my ribs were sore, but all my limbs were scrape free and intact. I finished the walk and told Amy what happened. A week later I went to get an X-ray that revealed I had a hairline fracture in one of my ribs. But two weeks after that I was healing just fine. 

"Don't fall." The words continue to haunt me because now our kids are on me about it. And sure enough, less than three weeks after that fall, on one of our mountain hikes I tripped and strained my right foot under my big toe. The part where you push off when walking, running, or jumping. I don't run anymore, and I don't jump much, but I do walk. And play the drums. 

I'm recovering from that now, but damn. It's like I need all the automated warning alarms built into our fussy EV. And even though my family thinks I'm still fussier than the car, I need to do better job of embodying the "don't fall" mantra and watch where the frick I'm going. All the time. 

The Age of Adulting

And then they were gone. For hours. Beatrice had driven away with Bryce in tow to go who knows where. Just to drive. To get something to eat. To hang out. I tried to not think about the fact that Beatrice now had her license and could drive by herself, much less drive with her sibling. But here we were. 

I texted a few hours later and Beatrice said they were good. She's a safe driver, but still a new driver still, so the worries don't subside easily. Plus, you always have to worry about all the other crappy drivers out there on the roads no matter now seasoned and skilled you are. 

It's exciting for her. It's helpful to us. It's bittersweet, nonetheless. Because adulting is happening faster now that she's driving, starting her senior year, evaluating colleges, and more. For my wife Amy and I, it turns the photo memories that come up on our phones of when both kids were little into loving reminisces.

Besides the driving lessons we paid for, Amy and I helped Beatrice practice for her driving test. We went through the driving checklists she'd have to answer and practiced driving near the DMV where the test would happen. 

Amy took her the day of her driving test. I had work calls but kept in touch via text. Although they were on time, the driving tester wasn't, and they had to wait an extra 45 minutes before it was Beatrice's turn. She managed her stress, though; Amy and I were more frustrated for her, and me for both having to wait.  

I remember the day I took my driving test at the DMV. My mom took me and was very supportive. My stress was palatable but the entire experience didn't take very long. And I had to parallel park, which they didn't require Beatrice to do. I did it all and passed the test. Afterwards, I held my temporary license tightly in my hand. My mom was supposed to drop me off at school and then go back to work. Instead, she drove all the way back home and told me I could take the car to school. My face flushed with freedom and independence and I still couldn't believe she let me drive to school. 

Amy texted that Beatrice was finally with the driving tester. I felt confident she'd pass. I just hoped she stayed focused and confident. 

About 20 minutes later, Beatrice texted us all proudly: "I PASSED!!"

The total increase in our car insurance premiums aside (crazy calculus!), we're grateful that Beatrice has her license now, and we're confident she'll continue to be a safe and sound driver. Bryce isn't too far behind and has already started driver training online. (And then more crazy insurance calculus.)

Hours later when they returned from Beatrice's first solo drive, all I could think about was our little babies who were little babies no more. Beatrice doesn't need us to take her places anymore. Soon Bryce won't either. There's still much for them to learn and experience, but the age of adulting is here to stay.

On Making Good Choices

It was funny / not funny the way she said it. The researcher giving us the tour of the Sunflower Star Laboratory in Moss Landing shared how a warming Pacific Ocean decimated the Sunflower Star and other species starting in 2013. 

She talked about how their research is helping to repopulate the sea stars, and how one of the Sunflower Stars they raised ended up dying because of "bad choices", and not because of the warm blob of ocean as they've called it. Bad choices because the Sunflower Star ate some bad shellfish (the bad being the bacteria in it). That was the funny / not funny. The shellfish contained bacteria that made it sick and die. Same thing that can happen in humans, too, but the way she said it was almost like saying it was a teen making a bad choice. 

The rest of the tour was fascinating, and our youngest Bryce and I asked many questions of the researcher. Bryce had wanted to go on this tour because marine biology has fast become their passion and a future career. They currently volunteer at the Seymour Marine Discovery Center, teaching young kids (and adults) about Swell Sharks and how to touch them in the touch pool, among many other responsibilities. It's special for my wife Amy and I because that's where we were married way before having kids. 

Amy had a company meeting that day, so I took Bryce to Moss Landing to do the Sunflower Star Laboratory tour, and to check out the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute (MBARI) open house that was going on. That was also very cool to learn more about the research they do, the submersibles they use, and Bryce asked about internships, something they could apply for in college. 

Before Bryce and I went to Moss Landing, that same morning I took our oldest Beatrice driving near the DMV where she'll be taking her driving test soon to get her license. She's been banking the practice hours to be ready to pass the test. Both Amy and I have let her drive with her permit to incrementally add to her experience. Never in a rush to get her license when she turned 16, Beatrice has because a solidly cautious driver, which we're grateful for. 

Driving is stressful enough for experienced drivers like Amy and me, but for a new driver ready practicing to get her license, it's super stressful. What adds to that stress is Mom and Dad giving feedback to their child. While it can sound like we're judging her driving, we're just trying to give constructive feedback. That doesn't always translate, though, especially when we know there are inexperienced decisions she'll need to make every time she gets behind the wheel.

This practice drive was no different. I've told her time and again that I can get fussy, which she knows all too well, but I'm not yelling at her. However, she perceives it as yelling. That perception gets amplified because I am telling her what she did wrong and what she should do instead. Then combine that with trying to remember hundreds of things at once when driving amplifies it even further. We don't blame her for getting defensive, just as long as she continues to develop her defensive driving skills overall. 

We always want our children to make good choices in whatever they're learning or doing in life. Good choices to us anyway. Who would've thought that phrase -- "make good choices" -- would become as iconic as it did. Thank you Disney and the 2003 Freaky Friday movie. According to Jamie Lee Curtis, who played Dr. Tess Coleman in the 2003 Freaky Friday film, "Make good choices!" is the only line she has ever improvised in her entire career.

What's funny about that is sometimes our improvisations are the only choices to make in the moment, where the magic can come from. And sometimes they're not. "Listening to your heart" as the expression goes is only as good as prefrontal cortex executive functioning, which ain't great in teens (and unfortunately a lot of adults I've known over the years). 

Whether it's following a career passion or learning something complicated and new like driving, we're grateful our kids mostly make good choices. Until they don't, and then we're there for them to coach them through all the bad choices we've already learned from (I think). 

We know it's not always that clear cut, and sometimes a bad choice can become a happy accident (no driving pun intended). You just gotta get the heart and mind to align either way. And probably best to skip the shellfish. 

The Declaration

(a poem in progress for America and our children)

250 years a union

Still here

Still imperfect 

Still built on the backs

Of the Others without

And the Others of color

Of sexual preference

Of huddled masses

Wishing to become

More in today’s America

Yet the vanquished

Cry out for justice

And prosperity 

Again and again

Fleeced

Forlorn

Forgotten

That privileged 

Liberty longed for

Fought for

Died for

Since before 

The reason

The Declaration

Was born

250 years a union

Still here

Still imperfect 

Still driven by wealthy

Tyrannical cannibals

Devouring our trust

Our sovereignty

Our livelihoods 

While backing the

Grifter King

The farcical despot

Who cares nothing 

For our country or us

Volatile

Vindictive

Vapid

Like those we’ve 

Staved off before

To prevent 

The treason

The Declaration 

Had warned

250 years a union

Still here

Still imperfect 

Still populated

And differentiated

By class and status

Let us break

The caste of

That privileged

Liberty longed for

Well lit with hope for

Justice and prosperity

Of the people 

For the people

By the people

No Others but all 

Noting that hope

Without action  

Is impotent sage

So let’s find our 

Founders’ footing

Of all people 

Created equal

And becoming more

In today’s America

Let’s revive

The reason

The Declaration 

Was born