Last week, Ellie asked if we could buy the fancy art set she saw at the craft store, the one with 120 markers in a wooden case. When I explained we’d already spent our “extras” budget for the month, she looked confused. “But you have your card,” she said, pointing to my wallet.
That moment hit me hard. She’s five, and already I could see how easy it would be to let her grow up thinking money just… appears. That plastic cards are magic. That wanting something means you should have it.
Matt and I grew up middle class, comfortable enough, but our parents handled money very differently. His family talked openly about budgets and trade-offs. Mine? Money was either abundant or stressful, with no in-between and definitely no explanation.
And I can see now how those early patterns shaped everything from my anxiety around spending to my tendency to either hoard or splurge.
So when I think about raising kids who’ll actually thrive financially as adults, not just survive, but genuinely understand how to build stability, I know it starts now. Not when they’re teenagers with their first job, but right here in these everyday moments.
Here are eight patterns I see again and again in well-meaning middle-class families that set kids up to struggle with money later. I’m not judging anyone. I’ve caught myself doing some of these. But awareness is the first step toward doing things differently.
1) Treating money like a taboo subject
We talk to our kids about bodies, feelings, friendships, even death. But money? That’s where so many parents go silent.
I grew up in a house where financial conversations happened behind closed doors in tense whispers. I learned that money was stressful, shameful, and definitely not something children should know about. The result? I hit adulthood with zero practical knowledge and a whole lot of anxiety.
Now when Ellie asks why we can’t buy something, I give her real answers. “We’re choosing to spend our money on the farmer’s market today instead,” or “That’s not in our budget this month, but we can save for it if it’s really important to you.”
Kids don’t need to know every detail of your finances, but they do need to understand that money is finite, that families make choices about how to use it, and that it’s okay to talk about these things openly.
2) Giving them everything they want
There’s a farmers’ market vendor who always slips Milo a free cookie, and I appreciate the gesture. But I’ve noticed other parents at the playground who seem to say yes to every request: snacks from the concession stand, toys from the gift shop, whatever catches their kid’s eye.
The instinct makes sense. We want our kids to be happy. We want to provide. Maybe we didn’t have much growing up and we’re determined our kids won’t feel that lack.
But here’s what happens: kids who never hear “no” or “not right now” don’t learn patience. They don’t learn to distinguish between wants and needs. They don’t develop the tolerance for disappointment that you absolutely need to function as an adult in a world with limited resources.
As research psychologist Madeline Levine has noted, overindulgence can actually impair a child’s ability to develop frustration tolerance and realistic expectations about life.
Saying no isn’t mean. It’s preparation.
3) Handling all the money decisions yourself
When we go to the farmers’ market on Saturdays, I give Ellie a few dollars of her own to spend however she wants. Sometimes she chooses strawberries. Sometimes she saves it for weeks until she can afford something bigger.
The point isn’t what she buys. It’s that she’s learning to make trade-offs, to weigh options, to feel the satisfaction of saving toward something she really wants.
Too many kids grow up watching parents handle every financial decision without any involvement themselves. Then suddenly at eighteen, they’re supposed to know how to manage student loans, credit cards, and rent. It’s like expecting someone to drive a car without ever letting them touch the steering wheel.
Start small. Let them manage their birthday money. Give them a clothing budget for the season and let them decide how to allocate it. Include them in age-appropriate discussions about family finances.
4) Modeling impulsive spending
Kids are watching everything we do, including how we handle money.
If we constantly make impulse purchases, if packages arrive daily from online shopping, if we treat shopping as entertainment or stress relief, our kids are learning that this is normal adult behavior.
I’m not perfect at this. There are definitely days when I browse online shops because I’m tired or anxious. But I try to be mindful about what I’m modeling, and when I do make an unplanned purchase, I talk about it honestly. “I bought this without really thinking it through, and now I’m wishing I’d waited.”
Matt is actually better at this than me. He’ll research a tool purchase for weeks, comparing options, reading reviews, making sure it’s exactly what he needs. The kids see that patience, that intentionality.
5) Paying them for basic contributions to the family
This one’s controversial, but hear me out.
Some families pay kids for chores, and I get the logic: teaching work ethic, connecting effort to money. But I think it sends the wrong message about being part of a family.
We all live here. We all contribute. Ellie helps set the table not because she’ll earn money, but because we’re a team and everyone pitches in. That’s just how families work.
Instead, we give her a small allowance that’s not tied to chores at all. It’s hers to manage, save, or spend. And we offer opportunities to earn extra money for bigger tasks that go beyond normal family contributions, like helping Matt organize the garage or helping me prep vegetables for preserving.
This way she learns both the value of contributing without expectation of payment and the connection between extra work and extra money.
6) Shielding them from financial reality
When money is tight, and it sometimes is, especially with Matt between contracts, we don’t pretend everything is fine. We don’t create elaborate stories or hide the situation entirely.
We adjust. We talk about it. “We’re being extra careful with money this month, so we’re eating from the pantry and skipping restaurants.” The kids can handle that truth, and it teaches them that finances fluctuate and families adapt.
I see parents who go into debt to maintain appearances, who never let their kids see them choose the less expensive option or pass on something because it’s not in the budget. Those kids grow up with unrealistic expectations about what middle-class life actually looks like.
Financial security isn’t about never having constraints. It’s about knowing how to navigate them without panic or shame.
7) Failing to teach delayed gratification
Everything in our culture pushes instant gratification. One-click buying. Same-day delivery. Binge-watching entire seasons in one sitting.
But financial wellbeing is built on the ability to wait, to save, to work toward something over time.
When Ellie wanted that expensive art set, we didn’t just say no. We created a plan. She could save her allowance and birthday money. She could earn extra by helping with bigger projects. We made a chart so she could track her progress.
It took three months, but when she finally had enough and we went back to buy it, the pride on her face was something you can’t get from instant gratification. She uses those markers carefully, thoughtfully, because she knows what they cost: not just in dollars, but in patience and effort.
That’s a lesson that will serve her forever.
8) Not distinguishing between needs and wants
“I need new shoes” could mean their current ones have holes. Or it could mean they saw a classmate with trendy sneakers.
The language we use around money matters. When everything is a “need,” kids don’t develop the crucial ability to prioritize or make tough choices.
At our house, we’re pretty clear about the difference. Food, shelter, clothing that fits and functions: those are needs. Everything else, no matter how much we want it, goes in a different category.
This doesn’t mean wants are bad or that we never indulge them. But it means we’re honest about what we’re doing. “We’re choosing to spend money on this want today” sounds different than “We need this,” and that distinction helps kids develop financial literacy.
Closing thoughts
Last Saturday at the market, I watched Ellie carefully count out coins for a small potted herb plant she’d been saving for. The vendor smiled at her serious face, her careful arithmetic. “You’re learning good habits,” he told her.
I hope he’s right. I hope that when she’s grown, money will be something she understands rather than fears, something she manages rather than something that manages her.
The truth is, financial wellbeing isn’t about how much money you have. It’s about the relationship you build with it: the habits, the mindset, the ability to make intentional choices rather than reactive ones.
And that relationship starts early, in these small everyday moments when we choose how to respond to “Can I have that?” and “Why can’t we afford it?” and “But everyone else has one.”
We’re not raising kids. We’re raising future adults who’ll need to navigate a complex financial world. The best gift we can give them isn’t money. It’s wisdom about how to handle it.
