This morning Ethan and I went to my friend Callie’s house. Callie and I used to work together, and now we’re both stay-at-home mommies. Her little boy is just a couple months younger than Ethan. Also, she’s far crazier than me, and her newborn baby boy is proof.

In seriousness, the boys are precious, and Ethan and his little buddy play well together while I get to coo at the baby. Callie and I spend most of the play date commiserating. We both love staying at home, but it’s also a balancing act.

Mainly, we balance having no money and a mom-to-a-toddler’s need for Stuff to Do. I laughed heartily/completely understood when Callie revealed that, in preparation for becoming a stay-at-home mom, she put together a spreadsheet of every free story time within a 20 mile radius.

While I won’t give away her parenting secrets, I will admit that I am not beyond bribing Ethan. Because a once-weekly snack bag of Doritos to get through a trip to the grocery store is worth the 75-cent price tag. When he starts asking for an Xbox in exchange for a tantrum-free trip to Walmart, well.  I’ll just stop taking him to Walmart with me.

I kid! Sort of.

Honestly, though, I don’t believe I spoil Ethan. He doesn’t throw many tantrums; he hasn’t displayed many traits of The Strong Willed Child; he doesn’t get whatever he wants when we go into a store. And because I don’t spoil him, I don’t feel bad about the occasional, non-extravagant bribe. He doesn’t eat junk food all week, so a bag of chips or M&Ms is more of a treat and a reward than a manipulation tool.

I guess what I’m saying is, as long as I’m bribing him, and not the other way around, it’s all good.

I’d make a great politician.

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Tonight we had dinner at my parents’ house, and my mom mentioned something about how whenever she goes into my 21-year-old brother’s room…to make his bed…she thinks what a charmed life he has.

“Um, why do you make his bed?” I asked.

“Erin, shut up,” Kyle hissed.

“Because I can’t stand looking at an unmade bed,” Mom told me.

“How about you don’t look at it?” I suggested.

“Because I always see it when I go in to get his dirty dishes.” And then we all busted out laughing.

Not to pick on my brother (more than I already do), but isn’t this a major factor in increasingly advanced-in-age kids being totally dependent on their parents? I believe my generation calls it “helicopter parenting,” where you hover around your kid(s) like a news chopper on a car chase.

But seriously, how many people in their mid-20s and even early-30s do you know who A) Still live at home out of necessity (and not because of the economy), B) Took 8 years to get a degree in gen ed, C) Have no idea how to manage money, or D) All of the above.

Maybe this will be a controversial opinion, but I have a feeling helicopter parenting started with my parents’ generation, and once their kids go off to college, they’ve got little to no life skills. Helicopter-parented kids live off credit cards because all through high school the credit card fairy (aka Mom or Dad) gave them plastic. Or they totally mismanage money because fiscal responsibility has never been a priority instilled by their parents.

But this gets me wondering…do you guys think there’s a benefit to teens having parent-sponsored credit cards? How about cell phones for which they never see the bill? Or cars they don’t pay for? In other words, is there any validity to the “I’ll give my kids what I never had” mentality?

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I’ve decided I need a manager. Not a boss, but a celebrity-type manager who organizes my affairs while treating me like a royal toddler. In other words, I’d like to be a boss with no responsibilities.

Today, I accidentally overdrew on our checking account because I was lazy about depositing some checks and forgot Bonnie’s next round of immunizations was this morning. I could have transferred a little from savings until I deposited the checks, but that would have been clever. All was well in the end since I realized it just a couple hours later and made a deposit to cover the overdraw, but it reminded me of the most basic rule of personal finance: organize.

My mom and my cousin are two members of an almost extinct species: They check their online bank statements at least once a day, so diligent are they about accounting. I’m a little too laissez-faire for that, which is why Noah handles the bills. But it’s not fair for me to depend and count on Noah to always have everything straight. Which is why I’d like a manager.

Anyway, today brought back a tense moment just before Noah and I were married. We still had separate bank accounts (now we have a joint), and we were juggling the deposits for our apartment and all the utilities start-up fees, as well as a few last-minute wedding expenses. We were distracted, to say the least, but our inattention nearly led to a disaster.

We used the wrong checking account for two nearly identically priced purchases, and the check bounced. Here’s the kicker: Either we were about to bounce a check on our apartment deposit and so risk losing our apartment before we’d even moved in, or we were about to bounce a check for the last same-as-cash payment on my wedding/engagement rings and be hit with a year’s worth of accrued interest. Yeah.

It turned out to be the check for our apartment (we figured it out by the change, because the dollar amounts were the same), and we were able to go immediately to the clubhouse and explain. They graciously thanked us for letting them know and waived our fees since we paid from our other funded checking account. I have a feeling it wouldn’t have gone so smoothly with the jeweler.

I guess financial disorganization—or even plain old disinterest—is my Kryptonite. But see if I had a manager, I could pay her to take care of my affairs and cover up my misdeeds. I wonder if any of them do pro bono…

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