- RT @mymoneyshrugged: The government breaks your leg, and hands you a crutch saying "see without me, you couldn't walk." #
- @bargainr What weeks do you need a FoF host for? in reply to bargainr #
- Awesome tagline: The coolest you'll look pooping your pants. Yay, @Huggies! #
- A textbook is not the real world. Not all business management professors understand marketing. #
- RT @thegoodhuman: Walden on work "spending best part of one's life earning money in order to enjoy (cont) http://tl.gd/2gugo6 #
Yakezie Beta Chapter Search
Loading
In an effort to promote the crap out of the Yakezie Beta Chapter, I’ve created a search specific to us. This will make it easy to find Beta Challengers to promote.
The current list in the search is:
Live Real, Now
http://www.YourSmartMoneyMoves.com
http://meinmillions.blogspot.com/
http://www.rentingoutrooms.com
http://www.yesiamcheap.com
http://SimpleVesting.com
http://untildebtdouspart.blogspot.com/
http://www.blondeandbalanced.com
http://jamesfowlkes.com/
http://www.mightybargainhunter.com
http://www.beatingtheindex.com
http://www.thepassiveincomeearner.com
http://www.prairieecothrifter.com
http://sustainablepersonalfinance.com/
http://www.toddswanderings.com
More will be added as I have time to dig through the forums. If you’re a Beta Challenger and don’t see your name, leave a comment below and I’ll get you added ASAP.
What motivates me financially?
This post was originally written for a blog swap run by the Yakezie personal finance blog network to answer the question “What motivates you to be financially responsible?“
This may not be the most original motivation, but I am financially motivated by my family. Before I had kids, I didn’t care much about money or “stuff”. My goal was to sell everything I owned and backpack Europe. Yeah, it’s a bit cliché, but that’s the way it is. I was also considering trying to live out of saddlebags while touring the country 1000 CCs at a time.
Now, I’ve got so many other considerations. Four, to be exact. A wife and three kids certainly change your perspective. If it doesn’t, you’ve got flaws that I can’t help you with.
When my family started, it was a huge wake-up call. Suddenly, I had responsibilities (cue scary music). Overnight, I had things to care about that didn’t involve a party, or instant gratification, or, well, me. Merlin the Stork floated down, waved a wand and Poof! I was a grown-up. This may not sound like much of a shock, but my wife and I had baby #1 when we were 20. Adulthood was still pretty new to us, and suddenly we’re parents?
As a grown-up, with three precious little monsters dependent on me for absolutely everything, I had to start worrying about their security. This was more than just keeping them physically safe. I’ve had to manage their emotional health, their physical needs, and their entertainment. They rely on me (and my wife!) for everything. How could I live with myself if I couldn’t put food on the table and a roof over their heads? Winter boots? Clothes without holes? Visits to the doctor? Have you ever noticed how much kids cost, even without considering the Japanese fad games and Barbie dreamhouses? Having a kid is like cutting a hole in your wallet and holding it over a blender nestled comfortably in a roaring fire fueled by napalm.
Then, after I’ve got them clothed, fed, sheltered, and entertained, I have to teach them how to be real people. I’m of the opinion that children in their natural state are little more than wild animals. Generally cuter, but that’s about it. It’s a parent’s job to train that ravenous little beast into an acceptable, successful person. Part of that consists of teaching the little brats how to start paying for their own clothes, food, shelter, and entertainment, and how to manage that without becoming a drain on society. Productivity and success can be defined a thousand different ways, but none of them include letting other people pay your way or borrowing money you have no intention or means of repaying. Ultimately, being an adult–being a successful part of society–involves recognizing your responsibilities and living up to them.
Caring for, providing for, and teaching my children the things I know provides me with an irreplaceable opportunity to watch them grow and learn, while giving me a chance to steer that growth. It is, without a doubt, the best, most satisfying, and most difficult thing I have ever done. The pleasure I get from raising my kids reinforces my desire to become the best person I can be.
Really, I just want to be the guy my kids think I am.
Playing For Blood
Kris at Every Tips and Thoughts wrote a post about games and letting her kids win feeling bad about winning. I disagree. This post is an expansion of my comment there.
When we play games in my house, we play for blood. I’ve never let my kids win and they know it. From the first time the kids attempt Memory, they know they’ve got to earn a win against Mom and Dad. They know if they lose, they must do so gracefully. If they pout or cry, they lose game privileges for a while. I demand good sportsmanship, win or lose.
To be clear, my kids are 3, 4, and 11 and they are all held to the same standards of sportsmanship. Win or lose, they will do so gracefully. There will be no temper tantrums when they are Sorry’d and no pouting when the Queen is captured.
It took my son almost 3 years to beat me at chess. When it finally happened, he was almost as proud as I was and still talks about it 5 years later.
It’s not much fun playing games with his friends. They were coddled and expect to win everything. I have to take away game privileges just like I do for my 3 year old. They hate that because we have the coolest board games. Nobody else has games that involve zombies or disembodied brains.
What has the result been?
My kids love playing games. This week, my oldest has been teaching his sisters how to play Life. When he visits his friends, he’s as likely to bring a board game as an electronic game. He’s got a good mind for strategy, and I can’t remember the last time he pouted when I tromped him.
My 4 year old hasn’t mastered gamesmanship yet, but she will. When I threaten to put the game away, she wipes her eyes, and keeps playing, even if her jaw is chattering. She knows what is expected and works to live up to it.
Both of the older kids are competitive. They’ve never had a win handed to them, and they have each had wins they had to work for, and they know how it feels to win and earn it.
The youngest doesn’t care if she wins, she’s just happy to play. In my experience, the competitive gameplay gene doesn’t activate until 4.
In my mind, the real world won’t hand them any wins, so I might as well start teaching them how to work for it now.
How about you? Do you let your kids win, or do you teach them that all games are bloodsports?
Priorities
I once saw a sign on the wall in a junkyard that said, “Failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.”
Another good one: “If everything is top priority, nothing is top priority.”
Once a week, I meet with my boss to discuss my progress for the previous week and my priorities for the coming week. This is supposed to make sure that my productivity stays in line with the company’s goals.
Great.
Once a day, my boss comes into my office to change my top priority based on whichever account manager has most recently asked for a status update for their customer.
Not so great.
At least twice a week, he asks for a status update on my highest priority items. Each time, he could mean the items we prioritized in the weekly meeting, or the items he chose to escalate later. Somehow, getting a new task escalated doesn’t deescalate an existing task.
Everything is a top priority.
To compensate, I’ve been working a few 12 hour days each week, and occasionally coming in on the weekends.
I’m dedicated and still behind.
Prioritizing is treated as an art, or in the case I just mentioned, a juggling act. It should be considered a science. It’s usually pretty simple.
- Is the problem costing you money? +1
- Is the problem costing your customer money? +2
- Is the problem going to hurt your reputation? +1
- Is there a deadline? +1
- Is it soon? +2
- Is it urgent? +1
- Is it important? +2
- Are there absolutely no real consequences for anyone if it doesn’t get completed? -500
That’s it. Too many times, we get hung up on urgent-but-not-important items and neglect the important things.
The hard part comes when it’s someone else setting your priorities, particularly when that person doesn’t rate things on urgency, importance, and cost but rather “Who has bitched the loudest recently?”
Can I tell my boss that I’m not going to do things the way he told me too? No. A former coworker very recently found out what happens when you do this.
Can I remind him that I’m busting my butt as hard as I can? Yes, but it will just earn me a request to come in on the weekend, too.
Can I ignore the official priorities part of the time, and work on what I feel is most important to keeping our customers happy? Yes, but it’s easy to go too far. “Boss, I ignored what you said, but this customer is happy, now!” won’t score me any points if it happens every week.
Priorities are simple, but not always easy. How do you balance your priorities?
Giving Up The Magic
It’s a sad day when kids stop believing in Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, and fairies.
Not because I enjoy lying to my kids, but because–on the day they stop believing–a piece of their innocence is lost. An unforgettable, valuable part of childhood dies.
Believing in magic is a beautiful thing.
Do you remember the last time you looked around the world with a sense of wonder? When seeing a puppy form in the clouds was a miracle? When the idea of an ant carrying 1000 times its own weight was something worth watching? When the impossible goodness of a fat man squeezing down your chimney fills you with hope instead of making you call 911?
Do I believe in Santa?
Of course not, but I believe the concept of Santa is worthy of my children’s belief. I don’t want them to lose that innocence and wonder.
When my teenager was young, he asked if Santa was real. I responded by asking what he thought. When he told me he didn’t believe, I offered to let Santa know. His panic told me he wasn’t ready to give up the magic.
The day that conversation didn’t cause a panic, he looked hurt, like he’d lost something precious. He had.
His world of magic was gone.
The he asked why I had spent his lifetime lying to him. I told him the truth. I said I couldn’t bear to be the one to shatter his belief in magic before he was ready.
Then, I informed him that he was in on the conspiracy. He was not allowed to ruin it for anyone else. Not his sisters, not his friends.
That Christmas, my little boy helped me stuff stockings, which was an odd feeling.
The magic was over, but we still got to share the magic of his cousins and sisters.
