The first time I talked to my kids about money, it was an accident. My son asked if we could stop for fast food on the way home, and I answered without thinking: “Not today, buddy—we need to be careful with money this week.”
I saw the shift in his face. At seven years old, he couldn’t articulate it, but I could tell my response didn’t just communicate no. It introduced the idea that money might be scary.
That moment stuck with me. Because I knew what it felt like to carry financial anxiety from a young age. I grew up in a house where money was always present—but so was the stress that came with it. Budgeting wasn’t explained. Saving wasn’t modeled. And when money was tight, it felt like a secret you weren’t supposed to ask about.
So, as a financial expert and a dad, I made it a personal mission to break that cycle. Not just by giving my kids a piggy bank and calling it a lesson—but by teaching them how money works without handing over my hang-ups in the process.
This is what’s actually helped. Not theories. Not charts. Real tools and shifts that allowed me to teach my kids about money with honesty, confidence, and calm—and just as importantly, without making them afraid of it.
Starting With Self-Awareness
Before I ever taught my kids how to use money, I had to unpack how I felt about it. That meant acknowledging a few truths:
- I used to think of money as a measure of security—but also of self-worth.
- I feared scarcity more than I celebrated abundance.
- And I tended to communicate stress around spending, even when I didn’t mean to.
If I hadn’t taken the time to reflect on those beliefs, I would’ve passed them on without realizing it.
So I asked myself some hard, but important, questions:
- What did I learn about money growing up—explicitly and implicitly?
- How did I feel when money was brought up around the dinner table?
- What behaviors do I want to model—and which ones do I want to leave behind?
It’s not about achieving some perfectly enlightened mindset. It’s about noticing the signals you’re sending and slowing down enough to be intentional.
Separating “Money Talks” from “Money Tension”
Here’s something I didn’t get right at first: I assumed that being honest about money meant I had to show my kids everything—including my stress.
But what I’ve learned is that transparency doesn’t have to come with anxiety. It’s possible to talk about real financial topics—budgets, limitations, choices—without layering on the emotional weight.
So instead of “We can’t afford that,” I’ve learned to say:
- “That’s not in the budget this month, but we’re saving for it.”
- “Let’s talk about how much we want to spend today before we go.”
- “We’re making a choice to use our money on something else this time.”
These phrases invite participation and reinforce the idea that money is about choices, not crises.
Introducing Money Early—Without Making It a Burden
Kids are naturally curious about money. They notice transactions, receipts, and card swipes long before we give them credit. So I leaned into their curiosity early—without turning it into a lecture.
When they were little, I used simple, tactile tools:
- A clear jar to save coins, so they could see money accumulate.
- Play store games where we took turns being “cashier” and “customer.”
- Simple conversations at checkout counters: “This costs $5. We give money to pay for it.”
None of it was high-pressure. The point was to normalize money as a part of life—not as something mysterious or stressful.
As they got older, we moved on to more structured tools: a wallet of their own, a small allowance, and real spending decisions. And I gave them space to make mistakes—buying toys that broke in a day, running out of money before the next allowance. That’s where the learning sticks.
Avoiding the “Fear of Spending” Trap
One of the more subtle ways I almost passed on financial anxiety was by overemphasizing saving to the point of guilt.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m a big believer in saving. But when “saving is good” becomes “spending is bad,” you create a scarcity mindset. And that mindset can stick well into adulthood.
So I started introducing a more balanced framework: Money has three jobs—spend, save, and share.
When my daughter received her first allowance, we split it into three envelopes:
- Spend – for small, fun things she wanted now
- Save – for something bigger she could look forward to
- Share – for a cause or gift to someone else
It wasn’t perfect, and sometimes the “spend” envelope emptied fast. But it helped reinforce that money isn’t just something you hoard—it’s something you can use wisely.
Making Budgeting a Conversation, Not a Confession
Budgeting can feel dry, even for adults. But I’ve found that kids—especially tweens and teens—actually like knowing how things work. They just don’t want to be overwhelmed.
So I started inviting them into small budget conversations, like:
- “We’re going out for dinner—let’s set a budget and look at menus.”
- “We’re shopping for a gift. Here’s the price range—what do you think would be meaningful?”
- “We’re planning a trip. Want to help figure out how much we can spend on activities?”
These weren’t lectures. They were collaborations. And what surprised me is how much my kids appreciated being included. It gave them context. It made spending feel intentional. And it made them more aware that choices aren’t about deprivation—they’re about priorities.
Teaching Them to Earn (Without Overworking Them)
At a certain age, my kids wanted more financial independence—and I saw that as an opportunity, not a challenge. But I also didn’t want to tie every household task to money, because I believe some things you do simply because you’re part of a family.
So we created a two-tier system:
- Responsibilities (like chores) are unpaid—because they’re part of being on a team.
- Opportunities (like washing the car, pet sitting, or helping with yard work) can earn money.
This gave them room to develop a work ethic, understand value, and start managing their own earnings—without turning our home into a transactional economy.
They also started seeing money less as something that “just appears” and more as something that flows through effort and purpose. That shift was huge.
Protecting Their Sense of Security—Even During Tough Times
Like most families, we’ve had seasons where money was tight. But I made it a priority not to offload that stress onto my kids. That didn’t mean lying or pretending everything was fine. It meant being honest and reassuring.
If we had to cut back, I’d say things like:
- “We’re adjusting how we spend so we can take care of what matters most.”
- “Things are a little tighter right now, but we have a plan.”
- “You don’t need to worry about this—it’s my job to handle it, and I’ve got it.”
This kept the door open for communication, while protecting their sense of stability. Kids don’t need all the details. But they do need to feel safe—and to trust that adults are managing things, even if it’s imperfect.
Allowing Them to Have Their Own Money Personality
Each of my kids approaches money differently—one’s a saver by nature, the other’s more impulsive. I could try to mold them into financial clones of myself, or I could guide them to understand their own tendencies and learn how to work with them.
So instead of labeling them (“you’re bad with money”), I ask questions:
- “What made you want to spend your money on that?”
- “How did it feel after?”
- “What would you do differently next time?”
This keeps the door open for self-reflection without shame. It helps them build self-trust. And it reminds me that my job isn’t to control—it’s to coach.
Talking About Wealth—and Values—Side by Side
Eventually, financial literacy goes beyond just managing money. It turns into questions about fairness, privilege, generosity, and legacy.
So I don’t avoid hard topics. We talk about:
- Why some people have more or less than others
- What it means to give, not just donate
- How wealth can be used as a tool for good—or for greed
- What values we want our money to support
I don’t pretend to have all the answers. But I do believe that teaching financial literacy without teaching financial ethics is an incomplete education. So we talk. We stay curious. And we keep coming back to the idea that money should reflect what matters most to us—not just what we can afford.
Start with Your Own Calm.
If I’ve learned anything over the past decade, it’s this:
Teaching kids about money isn’t just about setting them up for financial success—it’s about breaking cycles. It’s about noticing the stories we carry, rewriting the ones that don’t serve us, and giving our kids a chance to start from a place of clarity—not confusion or fear.
You don’t need to be perfect with your finances to raise money-smart kids. You just need to be intentional, honest, and present. They’ll learn more from how you live than what you say—so start there.
And if you’ve got your own financial baggage to unpack? You’re not behind. You’re right on time.
