A few days ago we bumped into my oldest daughter’s friend, who also happens to be a boy. My babysitter, who was with us, saw my daughter whip out her lip gloss from her purse and apply it liberally to her almost-9-year-old lips when she saw her boy-who-is-a-friend approaching us. Apparently the two had a flirty conversation for a few minutes before the small talk reverted to discussing typical fourth-grade stuff.

Later, I caught my youngest pretending to put on lipstick and talk to her imaginary boyfriend as she mimicked the behavior of her older sibling. Yikes!!!

I’m trying to stay calm and embrace the idea that my daughter is learning how to be friends with the opposite sex. She has no brothers and her only real contact with boys is her dad. However, I’m really on the fence about this psuedo-dating thing that has erupted with her and her friend. Some days as I watch them interact, I say to myself, “Awe, it’s so cute.” But as my babysitter revealed the whole lipstick application story to me, my heart sunk and fear set in. I‘m not really ready for boy troubles and all the heartache and drama that comes with having testosterone in your life.

While I adore my daughter’s choice of boys in this particular case, I’m sure there will be others that I won’t be so thrilled to embrace into the circle. I try to never let her see me sweat about the boy stuff; instead, I act really cool and try to make it a non-issue. I figure that if I turn boys into the forbidden fruit, they will only become that much more attractive to my daughters.

I remember my first friend-who-was-a-boy, Mike, that I introduced to my father. Poor Mike was so terrified of my dad that he would jump everytime he came in the room. As much as I’d love to buy my husband a big shotgun to scare off the boys, I think we’re going to have to come up with an alternate plan to manage the whole boy craze that’s sweeping our house.

All hope for the future has not been lost, however. I discovered that one of my daughters isn’t so hip on boys when she said, “Mom, I don’t like boys. I don’t see what the big deal is about them anyways.” At least I’ve bought myself some time with her for a few years.

Question: How do you handle the whole friend-that-is-a-boy dilemma?

Upon returning home from a long weekend away, our fridge began resembling a barren wasteland. We had ketchup, half of a half-gallon of expired milk, and a baggie filled with chopped onions. While I was proud that we had not wasted much food, I was now in despair that we were off to spend a small fortune at the grocery store to restock our food supply.

When the checker at the store announced our grand total, which was nearly $250, my daughter exclaimed, “That’s a lot of money!” (I rarely spend that much at the store, so I was a little shocked myself.) She started rattling off the endless ways she would spent $250 if she had the money – an iPod, a cell phone, a new camera. I didn’t think much of it because there’s no way she was going to earn $250 making homemade cards and selling lemonade.

I had no idea that dragging my three kids to the store would actually prove to be a life-changing experience for my daughter, but that gigantic food bill didn’t just ring on the register—it rang in her ears. Days later, this same daughter threw fit about eating dinner. She didn’t like what I had made and was determined to put the remainder of her meal into the trash after declaring repeatedly how awful it tasted. Instead of ignoring her or picking a fight, I tried to turn this food fight into a teaching moment.

Here’s how our conversation went down:

Me: Do you remember how much I spent at the store this week?

Daughter: Yes. $250.

Me: So, if you throw that food away, do you see that it’s really like throwing money in the trash? How much do you think that plate of food is worth?

Daughter: I don’t know.

Me: How would you like it if you bought food for me with the money you have earned and then you worked on making it yummy so I would like it, but then I decided it was gross. And I was going to throw it away. How would you feel?

Daughter:  Oh. (You can’t see the lightbulb that turned on above her head, but I saw it. It was there shining brightly overhead.)

I’d love to say that she licked her plate clean, but that would transform this fable into a fairy tale. She did learn a lesson and she did apologize. Lucky for her, she gets a second chance to enjoy the meal she declared was disgusting because we’re eating it again as leftovers.

Question: How have you taught your kids how to appreciate money or to not waste food?