Kids and Stuff

Last year I spent Thanksgiving night lined up with hundreds of people at my local Toys R Us for the uber-popular zhu zhu pets. The year before that it was a quest for an elusive dinosaur. I am so relieved that this year there are not any burning, pressing must-have gifts that my children are begging for...(yet?)

My husband and I were discussing it this weekend and we think it has a great deal to do with their very limited exposure to commercials. They are allowed one hour of screen time each day--but that includes any combination of computer, Wii, DSi, or videos. They would generally rather play games, so they watch very little television anymore.

This lack of advertising is an interesting phenomenon because their 'wants' are much more pure and simple (a calculator, a catapult, a basket for the front of their bike to carry the kitty in). We don't live in a bubble--they are still exposed to marketing, but I like that it is in very small doses. They aren't being constantly bombarded with reminders of all their life is missing. As a result, their requests are remarkably few.

I have tried to adopt this strategy for myself with simple steps like simply chunking catalogs before I flip through them. (Most actually get dumped in an outside can before they make it in.) It is a beautiful thing to intentionally look around and appreciate all that you have been blessed with as opposed to feeding your brain and heart with reminders of how much richer your life could be if you just had that...

I was reminded again of these truths as I was purging toys Sunday afternoon. Spike,the MUST-HAVE dinosaur toy from two Christmases ago, was packed into the back of my car for resale at a local consignment place. He hasn't been played with in at least 7-8 months. When K saw him she begged to keep him.
"But you haven't played with him a single time in almost a year" I pointed out.
"But I might one day. I want him." she countered.
I told her that I thought we could sell him for $40 (based on ebay listings I had seen).
"Do we get to keep that money?" she asked, suddenly losing her devotion to Spike.
"We could," I responded, "but what if we put it in our jar for the Dominican Republic?"
Her eyes brightened. "Ooooh. Can we? Yes, let's do that!"
Suddenly, doing for others was more exciting to her than hoarding for herself.
And so tomorrow we will enthusiastically sell Spike...

I love when my kids challenge me to be more generous! I am not naive enough to think it will always be this way--especially in the consumer-driven culture in which we live--but tonight I am grateful for baby steps in the right direction.