How to Afford Kids’ Activities Without Going Broke: Real Tips From a Middle-Class Mom
I was leaning against my dented 2012 Civic in the elementary school carpool line last month, scrolling the third-grade parent Facebook group when the knot in my stomach started to form. One mom had posted a sign-up link for a $325 week-long STEM overnight camp, another commented that her 8-year-old just made the regional travel gymnastics team that runs $180 a month plus competition fees. My son, Milo, who was still 10 minutes out from being dismissed, had begged me the night before to sign him up for rock climbing after his best friend from down the street invited him. I’d just written a $400 check to my oldest’s orthodontist that morning, and our monthly water bill had jumped $35 thanks to the summer heat. I stared at the $85 price tag for the 8-week private climbing clinic on my phone and thought, when did kid activities get this expensive?
Three years ago, we would’ve sucked it up and signed him up anyway, put it on the credit card and stressed about it later. When our oldest, Jax, was 8, he wanted to do travel soccer, and we paid $1,200 for a single season—uniforms, tournament entry fees, a hotel stay for an out-of-town game, all of it. We ate generic pasta for dinner three nights a week that whole half-year, and I skipped my annual physical because we couldn’t afford the copay. By the end of the season, Jax said he hated it because the coach yelled too much, and he quit. That’s when I realized we had to figure out a better way, something that let the kids try new things without breaking us.
The first thing that changed was I started checking our local city rec department first for everything, instead of jumping to private programs. I called them about rock climbing on a hunch, and turns out they run a weekly after-school climbing clinic at the park district gym, with three spots left. I mentioned I was looking for something cheaper than the private gym, and the woman at the desk told me they discount any unfilled spots by 50% a week before classes start to avoid empty slots. I ended up paying $22 for 8 weeks, less than a single class at the private place. I do this now for every activity—even if you don’t qualify for a full low-income sliding-scale scholarship, most departments would rather fill a spot at half price than leave it empty. It never hurts to ask.
A few months after the travel soccer disaster, me and three other moms on my block started a casual activity swap that cut our monthly activity costs by hundreds. One of them used to be a ballet teacher before she had kids, and she has a big empty garage. She teaches a 1-hour ballet class once a week for our four 6- to 8-year-old girls. I used to work at a craft store, so I teach a weekly art class for all the kids in the swap in my dining room. One dad is a former college baseball player, he coaches a casual team in the city park for the older kids, and another mom gives piano lessons. No one pays anyone anything. It’s just trading time. If someone can’t make their week, we swap, no hard feelings. The only thing I have to buy is the occasional bulk pack of construction paper from Dollar Tree.
We also put a hard rule in place: one activity per kid per season. I used to say yes to everything, because I didn’t want the kids to feel left out. Jax would do soccer in the fall, basketball in the winter, robotics in the spring, art class all year, and that added up to almost $400 a month. Now, if they want to try something new, they have to wait until the next season starts to switch. We also always do the free trial class that every place offers before we pay anything. That saved us from wasting $150 on a dance class Milo quit after two days because he hated wearing the required stiff leather shoes.
Last fall, Milo begged to join the same travel soccer team his friend was on, which was $900 for the season. We sat down with him at the kitchen table, pulled up our simple budget on my phone, and showed him what we spend on groceries, our mortgage, electricity, and Christmas presents. We told him if we paid for travel soccer, we’d have to cut out our weekly Friday ice cream trip and hold off on the new bike he wanted for his birthday. He thought about it for five minutes, then said he’d rather do the $50 rec league and get the bike. He plays with his neighbor friends, has practice twice a week instead of four, and has plenty of time to build Lego after school. He’s just as happy as he would be on the expensive team.
For gear, we buy all items except safety gear (helmets, climbing harnesses, those we get cheap new from Walmart) secondhand. I got Jax a barely used robotics competition kit for $20 on our local parent swap Facebook group last year—new it was $120. Cleats, dance leotards, basketball shoes, art easels, all of it is available for a fraction of the price if you’re willing to wait a week or two for someone to post what you need. Kids outgrow everything so fast, most people are just happy to get rid of it for $5 or $10.
Last weekend, I sat on a folding chair by the climbing wall watching Milo. He was covered in white chalk, laughing so hard he could barely pull himself up the wall, and fell off halfway into his second climb, right into the padded mat below. His friend from the block was waiting to high-five him when he stood up. After clinic, we stopped at the gas station and got $1 ice cream cones, and he fell asleep in the backseat on the way home, sticky and happy.
I still scroll past those fancy camp photos on Instagram sometimes and feel a little twinge of guilt, like I’m not giving my kids enough opportunities. But then I remember Jax coming home from that expensive travel soccer season, stressed out and tired, saying he didn’t have time to play video games with his friends anymore. Right now, we still go over budget some months, and sometimes we have to say no even to the cheap stuff when the car needs new tires. But for the most part, this system works. We haven’t had to put an activity on a credit card in two years, and the kids still get to try all the things they want. That’s enough for me, for now.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » How to Afford Kids’ Activities Without Going Broke: Real Tips From a Middle-Class Mom