‘I wanna be a millionaire, so freakin’ bad’ – or do I?

As much as I love this song by Bruno Mars, I don’t agree with it. I actually don’t want to be a millionaire. Why would I?

Buy all the things I never had? – like what exactly? A size 10 body and feminine feet?

Be on the cover of Forbes magazine? – why? So I can be judged and mocked and have people be so enviably jealous of me that they hate me?

Smile next to Oprah and the Queen? – I’m sure they have better things to do with their time.

Don’t get me wrong, having an unlimited amount of money in the bank would have it’s perks. I could help my family and friends out, donate it to some local charities, buy a few houses, my husband wouldn’t turn down a Ferrari or two… but does anyone really want millions sitting in the bank? I don’t think I’d be able to cope with it or even comprehend such a large sum and what I was supposed to do with it.

If I won £100,000, I would be over the moon. I could pay off the mortgage, clear some debts, and live very comfortably with my wage. I like to earn my own money. I’ve never had stuff handed to me on a plate, I was taught to work for what I want and to appreciate the money sitting in the bank. I earned that money. There’s not a lot of it there, but it’s mine. And my daughter will be brought up with the same values.

Sure, I would love to buy her everything. What parent doesn’t want to spoil their child? But that’s just it… it’s spoiling them. They would grow up expecting the big toys because they ‘deserved’ it.

I hate hearing that. ‘My child deserves to have the best’. Why? Did they find a cure for cancer? Did they save a hundred people from a burning building? Your child doesn’t deserve anything apart from your love.

We don’t live in Beverley Hills, we live in Bradford. We don’t have the same expectations as A-list celebrities or the rich kids who post photos of them using money as plates for their avocado and caviar salads on daddy’s yacht in the Bahamas. My daughter will cherish the moments when she gets the brand new red wellies to jump in puddles, when I take her to Waterstones to buy a new book to read, or when we surprise her with a weeks holiday in Centreparcs.

I might be new to this mum malarkey, but I know how I want my daughter to be brought up. She will know that her Dad works overtime for her. She will know that I work so she can go to nursery and learn skills that I don’t know how to teach her. She will know that Granddad built her crib and cot, and that Grandma buys most of her clothes. A strong, supportive family makes you rich, not money, so I consider myself to be very rich.

These early years as a young married couple with a child are a struggle, as they are for a lot of people. But do I want to be a millionaire to make it easier? Hell no.

If life was so easy, it would be boring.

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