Last month, I was on a panel called Babies and Budgets, and I couldn’t help but want to workshop the name. It needed a third B word. Not just because I love alliteration, but because if you have (or want, or are curious about having) a baby, you’ll need a budget for berries.
I suppose Babies and Budgets and Blueberries didn’t fit on the marquee.
I always thought food budgeting was a future problem. That trope of teenagers eating you out of house and home? That’s what I’d mentally planned for. But our daughter, Louie, took to solids quickly—far faster than the slow, in-time-with-her-driver’s-license pace I had imagined.
And she’s getting the good stuff. Kraft Singles haven’t made it to the high chair yet, though they’re still a regular in our fridge.
Naivete is a running theme for me, both with babies and with budgets. I’ve never been great at seeing the big picture. I always figured small, daily tweaks would be enough. Fertility was another blind spot. I didn’t expect it would take long to conceive, so I didn’t plan for the costs of fertility treatments. I thought it would just… happen.
That said, the savings goal my wife, Katie, and I set before trying for Louie? We hit it, then surpassed it. We ditched our spreadsheet full of categories (gas, food, fun) and switched to a simpler system: one number to stay under each month. That shift helped me finally see the big picture.
We also moved in with my in-laws, which saved on rent and brought a lot of sanity in the early days. (Most shocking of all: we still all love each other.)
A lot of that ease came from our support system. Katie, as I wrote in last month’s column, holds multiple C-suite roles in our home. She’s both the Chief Planning Officer and our CFO. Our family and friends showed up with registry items and hand-me-downs. I qualified for EI, had time off work, and, maybe luckiest of all, ended up with a sleepy newborn. That gave me the time to tackle life admin during naps.
Of course, celebrating a new baby looks different these days. Think bougie coffee walks instead of bougie brunches. Still great, and a lot cheaper.
When Louie’s first birthday came around, we asked that gifts come as an RESP contribution. And when job hunting, I looked for employers who invested in my kid’s financial future, too.
But what if you don’t have a Katie? Or nearby in-laws? Or a solid leave policy at work, or access to EI? What if your reality is tighter, and your naivete isn’t something you can afford?
That’s why the fine folks at Brood partnered with trusted financial partner Vancity Credit Union to create a first-of-its-kind, free online course: Wealthy Beginnings: Nurturing Finances and Family from Conception to Kindergarten. It’s designed to guide families through the financial realities of family building, from pregnancy tests to back-to-school backpacks.
It reminds me of how I first got connected to Brood: their course Doing It for the Dads. I didn’t know it at the time, but it ended up aligning perfectly with the kind of father I hoped to be.
Wealthy Beginnings feels the same. It’s support that helps you become the parent you hope to be. Yes, it’s financial, but as I write this, I’m realizing that money and feelings are often more entwined than we like to admit.
Maybe a little naivete is okay, after all. Parenting isn’t about arriving. It’s about journeying. There are no final destinations, only milestones.
Okay, one last name workshop… Wealthy Wanderings, anyone?
I’ll show myself out.
