Over two decades ago, I had a conversation with one of my best friends about what we’d each like for our kids as they grow up. At the wise old age of thirteen, we obviously knew it all. We had this idea, (well, actually I think it was his idea) that even if we were rich, it would be better if our kids felt poor. Then our kids would actually appreciate the things they have. If we were rich, we’d still try to live in the “hood” and have a small house and save all of our riches in the bank.
What a fine idea that was!
When I think about our family’s mission, I know that part of my intention was to bring simplicity (and hopefully in turn appreciation) in our children’s (and our) lives.
Right now, I feel that we are so far from all of that.
Life is crazy busy. Some of that is borne out of obligation, like the need to work and follow a work schedule. Some of that is to build up the “connection” part of our mission by being present with those that we have relationships with. The rest of the craziness just comes from being a family of five and living with all of the conflict and excitement that goes along with that.
In all of the craziness, excess and chaos thrive.
As each day goes by, the quantity and quality of my conversations with each of my family members decreases. In the rush to get dinner on the table, the TV goes on and interaction (both positive and negative) decreases. In my own stress, I turn to my phone for a moment to numb myself since I can’t get 30 minutes to turn off my brain and watch a television show (my favorite form of escape these days).
In my recognition of the neglect that exists, I try to fill that void with gifts - especially with our oldest. It makes me want to do something “extra special” on their birthday or pick up an unneeded toy when I’m at the store. For myself, as I struggle to accept my post-child body, I seek to comfort myself with that dress that will look just right or the boots that I “need.” As a result, our home is overflowing with stuff we just don’t need.
As I try to refocus, I need to remember where my weaknesses begin and cut myself off “at the pass” so to speak. I need to separate myself from my phone, where new boots are just a tap away. I need to get back to the crock pot or prepping the night before so that dinner is simpler. I need to leave work earlier so that I am not so rushed when I get home. I need to avoid in-person shopping. When I do shop, I need to stay focused and not wander.
All of these things feel so good in the moment: the satisfaction of getting a great deal on the boots, the joy on Sweet A’s face when she gets that toy or the mindlessness of scrolling through social media. However, just like the ice cream I ate yesterday, that moment of happiness leaves me with lingering guilt and a feeling of overwhelmedness. That fleeting joy is just not worth it.
