Poverty

A few weekends back, Rachel was watching "Kit Kittredge, American Girl," an American Girl Doll movie, about a girl named Kit whose father loses his job during the Depression. I was catering that night (more on that later), and Drew said he and Rachel had to stop watching it after a while because she got so, so upset when the dad lost his job.

A few nights later I was putting her to bed when she suddenly burst into tears (she had been weepy the whole night, and Drew was getting irritated). "What's the matter, sweetie?" I said gently while we were cuddling on her bed. "I'm afraid Daddy will lose his job and we'll be...POOR!" she said, and that's when I knew it was the movie that had really spooked her.

I took her on my lap and explained that Daddy has very high math skills and that he will ALWAYS be able to find a job because people want to hire other people who understand numbers. And I told her that Mommy will always be able to find a job because I know how to make people's writing better and to write myself. So it's highly unlikely that we will ever be poor.

She seemed to calm down after that, and then added, "Mommy, please don't tell me any more grownup secrets anymore." By that, I think, she meant that maybe Drew and I shouldn't share quite so much with her. It's not that we share so much, exactly, it's that she overhears us talking about money and the fact that I need to earn more of it, so her head goes to places that it really shouldn't.

"I"m sorry, sweetie," I said. "You act so grownup, sometimes I forget how young you are."
"I'll try to act more like a 7-year-old," she promised.