essays – parenting

Two Scoops

I admit that I have always been adept at shopping. My skills have been honed over many years – since childhood – to the point at which I could earn gold medals. I would qualify and probably win the pentathlon of shopping –power lunchtime sprees, garage sales, auctions, online catalogs and marathon mall trips. So it should have come as no surprise to me that whenever my son is asked, “what do you want to do today?” he answers, “go to the toy store.”

Now, I should clarify that, to him, almost every store is a toy store. Even most of the grocery stores have fairly diverse toy sections. I know because I’ve tried unsuccessfully to find ones without toy sections. And I do worry what message all this shopping is instilling in my son. It seems that he is growing to expect a new toy or “surprise” almost every day. And forget major holidays like birthdays and Christmas (which happen to fall within days of each other). With all the uncles and aunts and doting grandparents, it’s a losing battle to limit the volume of incoming plastic and metal paraphernalia. Hence the multiple copies of major items. Trains come in small, medium and large, we have several versions of every kind of truck or construction vehicle, and Bob the Builder reigns supreme with at least two copies of all his Team of machines (Scoop being the leader).

Of course, it’s not just the toys. My husband and I have both been addicted to books since before we met each other, and we’ve passed that affliction on to our son. We often justify buying some new tome, since “it’s a book, so it’s better for him than a toy.” But our house has begun to resemble a library. In fact, I think we have a better selection in a lot of areas than our local public branch. And let’s not forget all the videotapes. We’ve so far avoided the Disney onslaught, but I don’t think you’ll find another house in the area with more construction or train videos.

So, what can we do with our son to keep him on the right path toward being a well-adjusted adult who only buys things when they’re really needed? Or is that even a possibility in this world of rewarded consumerism? Each time we go to the store now, we try to convince our son that we can look at things, but “we’re not buying any toys today.”  Most of the time he’ll accept a compromise of carrying around a truck or two while we walk through the store; putting it back on the shelf before we leave. But he also keeps a mental list of toys he wants, which he often recites when given the chance. The list remains intact and in the same order as the days go by, but the number of items continue to build onto the end. It’s actually pretty fascinating that someone that young can basically memorize a growing list over a long period of time. It must be similar to the way oral traditions have been passed down from generation to generation.

I’m sure some of the problem lies in the fact that we don’t put our son in daycare, and day to day shopping is an activity that he often participates in. Recently, however, I may have found a good example of how simple things really can be just as fulfilling as a day of shopping. We spent a couple of hours at the park – just digging in the dirt, finding nuts for the squirrels, swinging on the swings and walking by the creek. There was no cost, no need to buy anything new, and he seemed just as content to sit on a bench and listen to the wind as he would have been walking the aisles of Wal-Mart. It was certainly much more peaceful for me (and probably more productive in the long run). I didn’t have to argue with him over putting back toys or leaving the store, and the fresh air was good for both of us.

I think this should be what we do to alleviate boredom from now on, although the winter weather may affect that plan. That’s what pushed us down this path to mass consumption last year. Shopping is generally done in a clean, climate-controlled place, and there just aren’t a lot of other things you can do indoors every day for three months without going stir crazy. I resolve to try harder this year, though. If we can’t go to the park, perhaps we’ll make more trips to the public library, where the books are just on loan and require return trips and hunts for new treasures. And I’m sure potty-training will make a big difference. A whole new world of classes and opportunities seem to open up to children once they’re potty-trained. Of course, you’d think with all the books, videos and potty-training aids we’ve bought on our shopping excursions we’d be there by now. But, that’s the subject for another day.