The trappings of our “have it now” culture are not for the faint of heart. Bringing up children to appreciate and respect all of what they have is an immense undertaking in our society. Even families with limited means seem to be drowning in stuff: too many toys, gadgets, clothes and books.
My daughters’ great-aunt took them for a day in the city recently. It was important for her to be able to spend time – and money – on them. They went for lunch, took the Sea Bus and Sky Train, and shopped. I was grateful that before they departed she asked me how I felt about dollar stores. Without wanting to appear ungrateful, I asked her not to take them there. If she wanted to treat them, I explained, it would mean so much more if the item she bought didn’t break within half an hour only to end up in the landfill.
It befuddles me how we can get behind paying money for items that are created in factories with terrible working conditions from materials that are bad for the Earth – both in their manufacturing and inability to be responsibly reused or recycled – then shipped across the ocean, only for them to fall apart in our hands, sometimes as we take the items out of their packaging.
We received a fair amount of this stuff when the girls were really young. It’s one thing to soothe the tears of a four-year-old whose euphoria is quickly dashed by snapped hair elastics before they even put them in, but subsequently demonstrating the culture of disposability by just tossing them into the trash just didn’t sit right with me, either. I’d prefer not to support that industry in the first place.
I’ve made efforts to teach my children the benefits of using natural and renewable materials, that new isn’t always better, to upcycle and repurpose clothes and toys and books and the basic necessities. They’ve come to know that buying quality items once is preferable to replacing something inferior time and again. And I expect this attitude to extend to their own purchases.
A couple of years ago, it was the Maplelea Doll. My daughters were under a spell of the American Girl’s Canadian cousin from the get-go. But I wasn’t about to fork out more than $100 per doll just to quell their longing. No, I told them, if they wanted the dolls, they would have to buy them. And at ages six and eight, they did just that. Lemonade stands with handmade crafts were a staple in our neighbourhood that summer, and they recruited all their friends to assist. They paid for the supplies out of their sales – and even some “wages” – and got to keep whatever was left over. I’m proud to say they donated a nice amount to charity from everything they brought in as well, unprompted. In a few months, they were able to send away for the dolls and have been careful guardians over them every since.
Recently, the girls discovered mermaid tails and decided they must have them to wear in the pool. A little investigation uncovered that a complete quality set was going to cost around US$150. And as much as I wanted to fulfill my, I mean, their wishes to be a mermaid, that just wasn’t in the budget. So they made a plan. Foregoing birthday and Christmas presents, they instead asked for money. They did some extra chores around the house (not as many as I would have hoped for, but that’s another column) and saved, saved, saved. They even set up a relatively successful hot chocolate stand over the Christmas holidays.
I knew it was a lot of money to raise. I knew it was going to take a long time. And I milked it. I really did. I didn’t even have the package shipped to us directly, but rather told them I had to pick them up the next time I was in the States – an extra six weeks – just to drag it out a little longer. In total, the process of obtaining the tails took over half a year. I just got back from visiting my friend in Nashville this week, tails in tow.
They pleaded with me to wake them up when I got home late that night. Not for hugs and kisses – which I did manage to extract – but so they could sleep in their tails. We were at the pool by the time it opened the next morning. So far, they’ve never taken better care of anything they’ve ever owned. Including those dolls. Believe it or not, I had to draw the line at buying mermaid tails for the dolls – because that’s a thing, despite the fact that these dolls aren’t supposed to ever go near water.
Another lesson learned. Sometimes it’s nice to indulge oneself in things like fancy dolls and mermaid tails. But not mermaid tails for dolls. There’s going overboard, and then there’s really going overboard.
