Like riding a bike, money habits are hard to forget

I don’t remember learning to ride a bike.

I don’t remember many of the early spills. I do remember one time, with my head down and bum up peddling faster than ever, hitting a neighbour’s parked car and breaking a dozen eggs in the back seat. Serious bruising to me. Dents in the car’s front bumper. Badly bruised ego – it was parked!

And I do remember spending the next decade glued to a bike seat. Mornings, nights, to school and from. Weekend bike adventures that lasted entire days, only returning home in time for dinner.

I’m in the middle of teaching DebtBoy to ride a bike. First was the Daddy push start. Wobbles, spills, and plenty of “tears for fears”. The bins in the driveway took an absolute battering.

Next came teaching him the self-start. I’ve never seen him so proud of himself. And every day since, he’s leapt out of bed every morning to try to jam in 15 minutes of practice before the morning rush to school.

This weekend, hopefully, it’s turning corners. And how to ride standing on the pedals for extra oomph and hills. I should have done it months ago.

“And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon.” It wasn’t until kids that Harry Chapin’s hit started to belt me emotionally. NOW I get it.

My parents used to bang on about a teaching theory – probably hippy mumbo jumbo from the 70s – called “learned behaviour”.

That is, you learn from those closest to you. Predominantly family. Learned behaviour is really about stuff that is more “instinctive” than “taught”. It’s automatic. It’s habits.

“Learned behaviour” is picked up by osmosis. Watch mummy and daddy do something a particular way and, without thinking, repeat that behaviour. Overeating, shouting at loved ones, aggressive behaviour, a lack of respect for others.

It’s not all negative. A quick wit, an interest in reading, eating fruit, or a daily exercise routine.

And, of course, right up there are money habits.

If you constantly splurge, have expensive habits, scratch for money before paydays, spend too much on cars … remember your kids are watching everything you do.

There are a few competing forces here. One, our money habits are very deeply ingrained. They are one of the hardest things to change. Two, we love our kids. I’ve never met a parent who doesn’t want their progeny to be more financially secure than they are.

So, whaddya do? Learned behaviour cuts in where “do as I say, not as I do” doesn’t work. It doesn’t cut the mustard here. If you want your kids to be money-wise, it has to be “do as I do”.

And it’s a sure bet you want to do better with your own finances. Why? Everybody does. No exceptions.

Explain to your kids that you can’t update the Playstation. Tell them something that you would like to buy, but you’re going to forfeit also. When they demand an iPad, tell them that you’d like a new car, but we can’t afford everything we want immediately.

Give them money to put in their moneybox. And show them that you’ve done the same by pumping extra into the mortgage or super.

Tell them that you save up to buy things you want. That you don’t get treats every single day. That we’re not eating at (insert favourite fast food chain here) tonight because we can save $40 with a yummy curry at home.

I’m a financial adviser. You’d hope that my money habits are pretty healthy. They are. But I’m far from perfect.

I concentrate too hard on earning and not enough on expenses. I don’t check my credit card for fraud often enough (and I’ve been a victim). We spend too much on crud the kids don’t need/want/care about five minutes after unwrapping. We’ve let the kids think that treats are something you get everyday, that heaters can run full bore all day, that it’s okay to buy too much food and then throw it out.

But understanding “learned behaviour” gives a double incentive to change. Fixing up your finances improves your own life, but may also set your kids up on a straighter and narrower financial path.

And, like riding a bike, some skills you’ll never forget. And you’ll remember who taught you them forever. Thanks Dad.

Bruce Brammall is the author of Debt Man Walking (www.debtman.com.au) and a licensed financial adviser. bruce@debtman.com.au.