During a recent day with my four year old, something prompted me to step back from my roles as mother and teacher and observe how he approaches life.
The day started in a familiar way. He refused to wear the cute outfit I had selected and pulled on a grubby sports t-shirt and his favorite thread-bare sweatpants that are two inches too short.
Lesson one: Don’t do something just because someone suggested you should. Make your own decision.
Later that morning we went to the clinic for an appointment. We picked out a couple books to read while we were waiting, but the doctor arrived before we had time to finish them.
After the exam, as I prepared to leave, Sam objected, “But we didn’t read the books mom.” Thoughts of “more important” things to do came to mind, and I started to say, “Yeah, I know, but now we must get going.” But I realized we could spare enough time to read those books.
So we did. Dr. Seuss’s “Happy Birthday to You,” left us both smiling and was well worth the extra 10 minutes.
Lesson two: What’s the rush? Allow yourself time for things you enjoy.
On the way home we stopped at the grocery store. Sam walked straight for the “grocery cars.” A small basket would’ve been more than enough, but I went along with his choice.
As we rolled through the aisles he hung out the window of the “grocery car” and waved his arms like he was riding along the Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible. How I longed to be with him in his imaginary place – it was clearly more fun than the grocery store.
Lesson three: Use your imagination and the mundane can become magical.
We arrived home and an unusually warm January sun made the air feel like spring. Despite two-foot snow banks lining the sidewalk, Sam decided it was time to ride bike. So, we dug out his helmet and pulled his Incredible Hulk two-wheeler off the ceiling hooks in the garage.
He sped away, but within seconds a sheet of snow and ice sent him flat on his belly. I thought that might be the end of the January biking adventure, but I was wrong. He accepted my advice for maneuvering under slippery conditions and pedaled off, this time more carefully.
When we neared the end of the block, he suddenly hopped off the bike. “Oops. He’s had enough,” I thought. Wrong again. A smooth patch of ice by his feet screamed, “Dance on me.” So Sam shuffled around on the ice for a bit, enjoying a little boot dance in a neighbor’s driveway.
Lesson four: Be spontaneous, and joyful. If the spirit moves you, dance!
Soon it was time for lunch. Sam ate a half bowl of daily gruel and a few slices of apple. “Done mom,” he said and hopped down. He declined my offer of a treat saying, “I’m full mom. My tummy beeped.”
Lesson five: Stop eating when you’re full.
If you’re blessed to have a four-year-old in your life, take time today to see what he or she can teach you. If not, go ahead and borrow a couple lessons from Sam. Think for yourself. Be imaginative, spontaneous and joyful. Take time for things you enjoy. And listen carefully for your tummy to beep.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
2010 Challenge: Can you give up shopping?
My 2010 New Year’s challenge started with an article from Good Housekeeping magazine, recommended to me by my friend Jesse.[http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/money/budget/stop-shopping.] The article poses a simple question: “Can you survive a year without shopping?”
The obvious answer is “no.” Only a strict vegetarian with a massive garden and no concern for how they smell could pull that off. But, a few families featured in this article successfully quit shopping for a year except for items that were edible or depletable.
For them, the goal wasn’t so much saving money as changing their focus. They wanted to focus less on accumulating things and more on accumulating experiences. So, they passed up collecting new toys, clothes and furniture, and embraced family trips and outings to movies or restaurants.
Having spent the past year trying to clear out clutter and simplify our lives, this challenge seemed like a natural next step. I have embraced it enthusiastically.
During the first week of the challenge I noticed how often thoughts of shopping popped into my head. “I should stop at Kmart quick and upgrade my Christmas storage with those smart red and green bins.”
Last week I passed the first big test, a trip to Target without my kids. Typically, the formula for this scenario reads like this: mother + time in Target + no children + no husband = unnecessary impulsive purchases.
On this trip I had a clear purpose: toilet paper, Oil of Olay, frozen egg rolls.
The cleverly placed dollar items beckoned me at the door, but since I wasn’t “shopping” I walked by. The endstops on aisles were full of attractive, non-essentials: Valentine’s Day decorations, discounted DVDs, pretty candles. Tempting but I resisted.
Sticking to my list (and a few extra food items) I was in and out in 15 minutes and drove away feeling peaceful and powerful. I rewrote the formula!
Take heart store owners. Despite my best lobbying efforts, my husband and kids don’t share my enthusiasm for the challenge, even after I sweetened the pot with an extravagant reward like a big family trip financed by the money we could save.
That said, my kids are still ex-officio participants. Unfortunately for them, I am the financier and taxi driver for 95 percent of their purchases. My six-year-old seems to have accepted this. On about day eight of the 365-day challenge he said, “Mom, when we’re done with the ‘no shopping’ thing, can I buy Sam a skateboard?”
I’m not sure he appreciates the length of a year.
Understand, I am not a big shopper, mostly because I suffer greatly from spending remorse. Still, the challenge is liberating.
• No negotiating with the kids about whether they can have this or that. “Sorry, mom’s not shopping.”
• No pressure to participate in the latest fashion trend.
• No need to read catalogues. They go straight into the garbage.
• Books will come from the library, or the shelves of unread books we already own.
• Gifts will be experiences – movie tickets, ski passes, coffee cards, a special class.
Rather than spending time looking for new things to get and finding places to put them, a year without shopping forces us to appreciate what we already have, and spend time together enjoying it.
The obvious answer is “no.” Only a strict vegetarian with a massive garden and no concern for how they smell could pull that off. But, a few families featured in this article successfully quit shopping for a year except for items that were edible or depletable.
For them, the goal wasn’t so much saving money as changing their focus. They wanted to focus less on accumulating things and more on accumulating experiences. So, they passed up collecting new toys, clothes and furniture, and embraced family trips and outings to movies or restaurants.
Having spent the past year trying to clear out clutter and simplify our lives, this challenge seemed like a natural next step. I have embraced it enthusiastically.
During the first week of the challenge I noticed how often thoughts of shopping popped into my head. “I should stop at Kmart quick and upgrade my Christmas storage with those smart red and green bins.”
Last week I passed the first big test, a trip to Target without my kids. Typically, the formula for this scenario reads like this: mother + time in Target + no children + no husband = unnecessary impulsive purchases.
On this trip I had a clear purpose: toilet paper, Oil of Olay, frozen egg rolls.
The cleverly placed dollar items beckoned me at the door, but since I wasn’t “shopping” I walked by. The endstops on aisles were full of attractive, non-essentials: Valentine’s Day decorations, discounted DVDs, pretty candles. Tempting but I resisted.
Sticking to my list (and a few extra food items) I was in and out in 15 minutes and drove away feeling peaceful and powerful. I rewrote the formula!
Take heart store owners. Despite my best lobbying efforts, my husband and kids don’t share my enthusiasm for the challenge, even after I sweetened the pot with an extravagant reward like a big family trip financed by the money we could save.
That said, my kids are still ex-officio participants. Unfortunately for them, I am the financier and taxi driver for 95 percent of their purchases. My six-year-old seems to have accepted this. On about day eight of the 365-day challenge he said, “Mom, when we’re done with the ‘no shopping’ thing, can I buy Sam a skateboard?”
I’m not sure he appreciates the length of a year.
Understand, I am not a big shopper, mostly because I suffer greatly from spending remorse. Still, the challenge is liberating.
• No negotiating with the kids about whether they can have this or that. “Sorry, mom’s not shopping.”
• No pressure to participate in the latest fashion trend.
• No need to read catalogues. They go straight into the garbage.
• Books will come from the library, or the shelves of unread books we already own.
• Gifts will be experiences – movie tickets, ski passes, coffee cards, a special class.
Rather than spending time looking for new things to get and finding places to put them, a year without shopping forces us to appreciate what we already have, and spend time together enjoying it.
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