20190105.0430

Ms. 8 is getting to go to the bank with her mother and me today. Owing to a rather impressive holiday gift, as well as a smattering of others Ms. 8's picked up along the way, the time has come to set up a bank account for her. Our plan is to establish a savings account that we can let sit and grow, slowly but more or less stably, until such a time as she is able to manage it herself and direct her own affairs. It will be a few years, at least, before she can do so; she's only four at the moment, soon enough to turn five, but even that leaves quite a while before she will be earning wages and handling more than basic finances. By that time, there ought to be a fair amount of money waiting for her, gifts to her from parts of her family and some small contribution that I can make to her future well being.
I am well aware of the adage about buying happiness. I am also well aware that happiness is hard to find without a decently full belly and with worries about whether or not a roof will stay overhead--and that having money helps to sate the belly and secure the roof. I also know that I could set aside a portion of the family funds for Ms. 8, rather than setting up an account for her--but I know myself well enough to know that I might well spend the money now rather than saving it for later if it is in the general accounts, not because I am profligate (eating out took up only 2% of the family's expenditures last year, for example), but because the demands of keeping the household going amid paychecks that sometimes stagger irregularly prompt me to dip into savings more often than I would like, and the incidence of paychecks and regular bills tends to dissuade me from putting money back in as much as I ought to do. Having a separate account for her will not only give her a bit of a nest-egg and later practice in money management, but it will also help insulate her from what happens to the rest of the household.
There will be mixed opinion about that last, about the idea that Ms. 8 can or should be insulated from the doings of the household. I will admit that I often demand more of her than she should be expected to give; I often forget just how young she is because I am often impressed by her intelligence and insight. But when I think about it, I know that I am wrong to ask more of her than a young child ought to be asked to give. And I know that others feel similarly. If we are going to maintain the concept of childhood as a distinct thing instead of a miniature adulthood, if we are going to "let kids be kids," as we are often exhorted to do, then it follows that a number of concerns will be kept from them. And as far as money and the demands of householding go, there will be enough time for her to learn them, enough time for her to get a handle on simple arithmetic and what it takes to coordinate keeping food coming in and utilities on and a roof overhead and maybe, though for fewer people than perhaps ought to be the case, a little bit of leisure now and again. I'm her father, after all, and if it is part of my task to ensure she grows able to face bravely and well any challenge that presents itself to her, it is also part of my task to give her the space she needs to grow into the kind of person who can do such things.
I have every expectation that she'll keep on being great. And I mean to help her to do it, even if only in a small way now and again.