Today is my birthday and I’m thinking about my mom.

As is her tradition, she'll call me as she always does at the precise time of my birth to wish me an official happy birthday. I like that.

When I had my daughter, I was nearly twice the age my mother was when she had me. My younger sister and I were long out of the house by the time my mother reached the age I am today.

The timing of when you have your kids has a big impact on your financial options. I was well into my career before becoming a parent and enjoyed a lot of personal travel and experiences I couldn’t have indulged if I had a child.

Today, as mother to an 11-year-old, I’m in that place of saving for a retirement that could overlap with my daughter’s college years. (Of course, the way the economy is feeling these days, we may all be working until we stop breathing. I’m glad I do the kind of thing that doesn’t require me to operate heavy machinery, breathe noxious fumes or stand for hours on end!)

My mother worked for the same family-owned firm her entire working life, starting out as an executive secretary straight out of high school and eventually becoming secretary of the company before her retirement 7years ago - with full pension and Social Security.

My parents enjoyed more flexibility with their lives after their kids were gone. And while their means were very modest compared to mine, they're the ones with no mortgage, robust retirement health care plans and some spare cash on hand.

This brings me to a little confession: My mother gives me an “allowance” every week. And I’m not too proud to take it.

Here’s how she does it: She puts a $20 bill and some coupons she thinks I might use into a small envelope decorated with stickers and earmarked for my daughter’s lunch, which is just about what it actually costs each week. She also likes to give me care packages of paper products and other household items she’s purchased on sale for “next to nothing.”

I used to resist the largesse, but have since come to understand there's no Emily Gilmore control issue. Heck, some weeks that $20 represents my only free cash flow!

Just the way my mother likes to indulge my daughter with some silly little gift whenever she sees her, I now appreciate that she does this just because she can.

My grandfather (her dad) died when my mother was 10. An import/export executive by day, his real passion was music. He made recordings and had his own radio show.

While his firm continued to pay his salary for a full year, life changed radically for everybody when my grandfather died - and my mom still remembers how it felt to be the kid with the oldest dress and the worn-out shoes. My father’s inscription in her high school yearbook reads, “Good luck with your job.”

My mother’s pluck -- and the strength of my nana, who was my first babysitter when my mom returned to work -- helped shape who I am today. I never seem to say this, so thanks mom. You did good.

Yes, this is in part a shameless ploy for birthday greetings. So bring ‘em on (or share your own thoughts about having kids at different life stages) on The Exchange.