I guess that makes me a queen!

As I sit watching Cora twirl in her new Princess dress, glass slippers, and "diamond" necklace while she simultaneously applies plastic lipstick and flings her hair over her shoulders, I am concerned. I am raising a 3-year-old princess and I have only myself to blame.

Growing up we lived in a tiny 3 bedroom apartment, shared by 2 parents, 5 siblings, 2 turtles, 1 bird and an occasional fish. To describe our family as poor would be an understatement, but as kids we were oblivious to our financial situation. We thought everyone we knew wore the same pair of shoes until their feet touched the pavement, and then traded them in for a raggedy hand-me-down pair that still had a good 3 weeks left in them before the soles completely blew out. We figured all kids held yard sales to earn enough money to feast on the gourmet cuisine at McDonald's. We didn't realize things came in brand names and that there were places besides Pic-N-Save that sold school clothes.

Being poor never affected our happiness. We couldn't afford gymnastic and dance classes, so we choreographed and performed our own routines to Madonna's Material Girl for the whole neighborhood to enjoy (that is if you could afford the hefty 5 cent cover charge). We never had money for the latest toys, so we created elaborate carnivals with games, "rides" and prizes; we wrote, directed and performed our own plays and even made up our own version of Mancala using old egg cartons and rocks, all the while unaware that there was a struggle to put food on the table. We adapted our play to accommodate our measly resources and never gave it a second thought.

So why am I so determined to give my daughters the life I never had, and looking back never missed. I've looked over the budget and am worried I can't afford to put Cora in dance classes until the summer. I'm almost sick thinking about how much she would love it and how much she will miss out on. I researched preschools for months before finding a Montessori based preschool that nearly required us to take out a second mortgage to afford the monthly tuition, but I wanted her to have the best. I would go back to work before I let my girls walk around in holey shoes with blown out soles. I want them to have all the things I missed out on, but I am having a hard time remembering what that was. And I am having an even harder time striking a balance between giving them everything their little heart's desire and teaching them that they don't always get everything their little heart's desire.

I know money doesn't buy happiness. It can, as evidenced by the look on Cora's face when she opened her new Princess attire Christmas morning. But I have seen the same smile her shiny glass slippers generated on her face when wrestling with Daddy, or playing Hide and Seek with Claire. It is quite easy and inexpensive to make her happy and that should make it simple to put the check book away and not freak out about a missed semester at dance class, right? So why is it so hard for me?

I always say Mark and I are careful not to spoil them, but if growing up we were given everything we now give our children, we would have certainly believed we were royalty. And I am afraid that my little “princess” will soon want to trade her glass slippers in for a pair of Jimmy Choos with a matching hand bag, and then it will be too late to teach her the value of a dollar. Does anyone else out there mirror my fears or have any advice, or am I alone in my discovery of yet another way I am screwing up my children??!!!