Bougie Kids, Budget Mom: A Love Story

Our kids are living their best lives. But also… what the actual hell.

Let’s talk about the audacity of our children’s lifestyles for a second.

These kids - ours, or the ones orbiting our lives - are out here posting poolside from paradise, in sneakers that cost more than my first car, and rejecting dining hall food like it’s a full-on betrayal.

Meanwhile, I’m still in the same jeans from 2003, rocking my mom’s hand-me-down shoes, and buying mascara two-for-one at Target.

It’s a tale of two economies: mine built on sales and stretch, theirs fueled by ‘add to cart’ energy and the confidence of someone spending Monopoly money in the real world.

Credit where it’s due - my kids hustle. They’ve got jobs. They work hard. They save, then spend: on Glossier (I had to Google this when one of them mentioned it), Gucci, and getaways with no budget in sight. And somehow, they’ll still lose their minds over a $6 vintage sweater from Goodwill.

I love that for them. Truly.

And even when I feel like I’m unraveling, they remind me that something I did along the way must’ve stuck.

They’re smart, connected, emotionally dialed-in. When I’m falling apart over something as basic as dinner, one of them will clock it before I say a word: “Let’s just DoorDash, Mom.” Another will text from the road: “Want me to grab you a coffee?” I say no. He brings one anyway. They notice things. They try.

That part? That’s working.

But they also think a flight with layovers is an attack on their personal peace, and that Sephora is a basic human right - especially when they keep stealing my face wash like it's communal property.

And I know I’m not alone in this.

We wanted them to have more. More joy, more freedom, more options. And they got it. We gave them a life we didn’t have, but let’s be real, a lot of it came from our backs.

We skipped the new car. Delayed the beach house dream. Wore the Costco sweatshirt for a fifth year running.

All so these kids could live like soft-launch influencers and argue about which sunscreen is better for their skin barrier.

So here’s the Real Girls talk:

How do we give our kids incredible lives without raising entitled little assholes who think the world owes them room service?

How do we keep them grounded and grateful while they’re sipping oat milk lattes and “healing” in Turks & Caicos (this is not my crew, but I heard from a friend of a friend who’s kid was literally on this exact trip)?

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Here’s what I’ve learned (the hard way):

Tips for Raising Bougie Kids Who Aren’t Brats:

1. Give them experiences, but make them sweat a little.

You want that ski trip? Great. Haul the damn gear, schlep the poles, carry the weight - literally. Post the après, but earn the ride up the mountain.

2. Normalize discomfort.

Camping. Middle seats. Delayed flights. And yes, actually calling customer service. Builds character and a little resistance to phone-induced panic.

3. Teach them what things cost.

Like really cost. Not just in money, but in time, tradeoffs, and missed spa days you sacrificed to make it happen.

4. Have them earn some of it.

Yes, even the little ones. Even the ones in private school. Even the ones with internships. Babysitting. Volunteering. Pulling weeds. Real life doesn’t Venmo you an allowance.

5. Make gratitude a ritual, not a lecture.

Gratitude journals, thank-you notes (I’m a big believer in actually mailing them), or a simple dinner game: name one thing you paid for today. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Look, we love that they’re out there living like baby Kardashians on wellness retreats with good hair and even better lighting.

But let’s not forget: You created that life.

With your grit, your stretch budget, and your 3-for-$12 tank tops.

So don’t be afraid to remind them. Lovingly. Loudly. With a laminated pie chart, if needed.

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A Final Word (and a Gentle Nudge):

We’d go twelve rounds for these kids (and maybe we already have - over homework, heartbreaks, and who’s driving). But raising tiny bougie humans on our big (ha), middle-aged wallets? Now that’s a ride. If you’ve ever skipped your coffee so your teen could snag their third “essential” serum this week, trust me, you’re not alone.

We raised them right. But that doesn’t mean we need to raise them soft.

Let them flex but make sure they know exactly who built the muscle.

Want more rants, laughs, and eye-rolls about parenting, aging, and surviving your bougie Gen Z housemates? Subscribe. Laugh. Rant. Repeat.

And yes, you can absolutely roast me - especially if, like me, you’ve ever cried in the snack aisle wondering if rage is just a vitamin you’re missing.

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#RealGirlsGuide #RGG55 #ParentingAdults #BougieOnABudget #StillWearingTarget #MomsInTheir2000sJeans #NoMoreFreeSushi

We’ve earned every wrinkle. Might as well make more laugh lines together.
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