This is harder than I thought it would be.
Not because I don't believe this matters (although sometimes I do think I am crazy). It's hard because money is hard. Parenting is exhausting. And trying to build something that touches both is not exactly light work.
Money. Kids. Parenting. Not knowing what to say. Not wanting to say the wrong thing. Wanting your child to have a healthier relationship with money than you may have had, while still feeling like you are figuring parts of it out yourself.
I know what I want to do and need to do. But I'm not building this from a point of view where I have every answer. I'm building it from the same place I hope to meet other parents: in it, trying, learning, adapting, and wanting to do right by our kids.
I want money to feel understandable, safe to talk about, and maybe even a little fun. I want to give my kids something better. And I also know how hard it can be to start a conversation you were never really taught how to have. I mean isn't that parenting to a certain extent? I go to the hospital with my wife excited and scared, and leave less than a week later exhausted, even more scared you're going to mess up. It's just going to be you, if your lucky a partner, and this tiny human...
Have you ever thought: what if I do this wrong? And then noticed how quickly it doesn't matter because the next beat is you figuring it out. There is no I'll figure out how to breast feed, heat a bottle properly, change a diaper at 1am, or help them get to sleep. Oh I bet we all wished we read those damn baby books now or at least had a chance to practice at least once. But that’s not realistic.
With oibe, I'm working at the intersection of two things that are both full of opinions, theories, and strong feelings. One is relatively new in the public conversation: what children are capable of understanding, and when. The other is older than money itself — trade, exchange, value, ownership, and all the systems those ideas eventually grow into. There are a lot of ways to be told you are wrong. But that can't be the reason not to try.
Because the same thing is true for our kids. If we make every early attempt feel like a mistake, they stop wanting to participate. If a child puts on a shirt backwards or inside out, it's not a failure. That is further than they got last time. That is the moment to let them have the win. The correction can come later, usually by example and without making a big deal out of it.
Money can work the same way.
For the first kit, Notice, we didn't add numbers to the oibes because it is not about getting the math right. It is not about knowing the number. It is not about optimizing the decision. It is about experiencing the exchange: choosing, waiting, trading, handing something over, receiving something back, and feeling what it means to have enough, not enough, or maybe enough next time. The ritual comes first. The confidence comes next. The understanding builds from there.
And hey parents- maybe we deserve that opportunity too — not to pretend we have every answer, but to experience it with them. To see how they learn. To notice what they already understand. To give them something many of us did not get: a safe place to practice before the stakes get real.
And maybe that changes us too. Maybe in trying to give our kids that, we start to understand it better ourselves. We won't get every part of this right the first time. Our kids won't either. That is how kids learn most things anyway. Not through perfect instruction, but through repetition, participation, observation, encouragement, and trying again.
When you put the baby in the car seat for the first time, you check that thing at least a million times and you're still scared shitless to go. Next, why is everyone going so damn fast! Can’t they see I’m trying to get this thing right? I know I need to move and get this company out there, but I still want to check one more thing. Just one more time.
We don’t need to know how to do it, we just need to start.