Memory lane vs. money
I find it interesting that the childhood memories I hold so dear to me are rooted in such simplicity or wrapped up in the kind of trouble that only a child can get into.
When I was a child, my dad bowled in a Tuesday night bowling league. My mom, baby brother, and I stayed home with my mom and little brother. Some evenings, my mom had her daycare kids late. I was always a super scaredy cat kid, especially once the sun went down. We used to watch a show called "Rescue 911" and after that "Unsolved Mysteries" came on. I often wondered, in my 4-year-old mind, if they really answered 911 calls the way they did on the show ("911, what is your emergency?"), so one night, I decided to find out for myself. I dialed 911, got an answer. I was so shocked and amazed by what I'd just done that I called back. Shortly thereafter, the cops arrived at my house, just as my dad was leaving the driveway. Luckily, my mom vouched that my dad was indeed my dad, and the officers inquired as to whether there were kids in the house or not. I remember hearing this all go down as I sat on the dark stairs leading to upstairs. I fessed up. I don't even remember if I got in trouble, but I always was a self-punishing child, so I'm sure that made it easy on my parents.
Another fond memory of my childhood happened during many of my long summers. We always, always had a kiddie pool, and one year, my older brother Dave & I took a small slide we had and set it up to land in the pool. Those two cheap items and our childhood imaginations fueled many hours of fulfilling play time.
I remember catching fireflies in the summer and riding my bike up and down the driveway and swooping back around from my neighbor's driveway. Dale, the neighbor, was a good old guy. He was a veteran who eventually lost his legs and drank beer morning, noon, and night, but his ramp was the hub for the neighborhood. My father took good care of him doing everything from mowing his lawn to picking his intoxicated rear-end up off the bathroom floor when he missed the seat. During the state fair, we watched the fireworks from the upstairs of my house, long before the trees matured enough to block the view.
We had shaving cream fights, and we ate macaroni with hot dogs cut up in it. We read books, lots of books checked out from our local library. We didn't go on fancy vacations, we didn't own a swingset until I was too old for it (but still enjoyed anyway), and we didn't have all the latest gadgets.
Children today have so much. Children have IPods and laptops. They enjoy luxuries that I won't even buy for myself. They go on amazing vacations. Many children have not just one of the latest hot, new toy, but they have one of every hot new toy. Children have learned to ask, "What do I get?" when something is asked of them. A sense of entitlement instead of a sense of personal achievement.
This is, of course, a generalization. I do not apply these statements to everyone, nor are they aimed at anyone. I just can't help but notice.
I am guilty of wanting to give everything to my daughter. I want so much for her. But I don't get it all. I don't want to raise her to expect it all.
I expect her to keep her room clean because it is the right thing to do. I expect her to help out around the house and do her homework...because it is the right thing to do. I am not going to give her $5 for every A she earns or every time she lifts a finger around the house. I am not going to negotiate with her when it comes to her doing the things I believe will build her character. Now, I'm not saying I won't celebrate her accomplishments or acknowledge her achievement, but sometimes doing the right thing and doing well needs to be its own reward.
I want her to know the value of a dollar, and I want her to understand the economic choices adults must make to survive and support their families. Hard work is a skill and trait that I want her to earn the only way one can-through doing. I want her to be charitable and to think of others before thinking of herself.
Society is consumer driven. We live in a have more/bigger/better and buy more/bigger/better world. People flaunt their big, bigger, and colossal purchases with pride, as if owning something improves the kind of person they are. Competition and keeping up with the Joneses is driving people to debt and deeper debt.
New things are fun. They are exciting. I enjoy shopping just as much as the next person, and I splurge when I should save.
But my mind is on change. My mind is visiting my memories. I want to provide Ayla with what my childhood provided for me. It wasn't the hottest new toy or the latest greatest vacation. But it sure did make some wonderful memories and instilled the virtues in me that I think make me a pretty decent gal most of the time.
When I was a child, my dad bowled in a Tuesday night bowling league. My mom, baby brother, and I stayed home with my mom and little brother. Some evenings, my mom had her daycare kids late. I was always a super scaredy cat kid, especially once the sun went down. We used to watch a show called "Rescue 911" and after that "Unsolved Mysteries" came on. I often wondered, in my 4-year-old mind, if they really answered 911 calls the way they did on the show ("911, what is your emergency?"), so one night, I decided to find out for myself. I dialed 911, got an answer. I was so shocked and amazed by what I'd just done that I called back. Shortly thereafter, the cops arrived at my house, just as my dad was leaving the driveway. Luckily, my mom vouched that my dad was indeed my dad, and the officers inquired as to whether there were kids in the house or not. I remember hearing this all go down as I sat on the dark stairs leading to upstairs. I fessed up. I don't even remember if I got in trouble, but I always was a self-punishing child, so I'm sure that made it easy on my parents.
Another fond memory of my childhood happened during many of my long summers. We always, always had a kiddie pool, and one year, my older brother Dave & I took a small slide we had and set it up to land in the pool. Those two cheap items and our childhood imaginations fueled many hours of fulfilling play time.
I remember catching fireflies in the summer and riding my bike up and down the driveway and swooping back around from my neighbor's driveway. Dale, the neighbor, was a good old guy. He was a veteran who eventually lost his legs and drank beer morning, noon, and night, but his ramp was the hub for the neighborhood. My father took good care of him doing everything from mowing his lawn to picking his intoxicated rear-end up off the bathroom floor when he missed the seat. During the state fair, we watched the fireworks from the upstairs of my house, long before the trees matured enough to block the view.
We had shaving cream fights, and we ate macaroni with hot dogs cut up in it. We read books, lots of books checked out from our local library. We didn't go on fancy vacations, we didn't own a swingset until I was too old for it (but still enjoyed anyway), and we didn't have all the latest gadgets.
Children today have so much. Children have IPods and laptops. They enjoy luxuries that I won't even buy for myself. They go on amazing vacations. Many children have not just one of the latest hot, new toy, but they have one of every hot new toy. Children have learned to ask, "What do I get?" when something is asked of them. A sense of entitlement instead of a sense of personal achievement.
This is, of course, a generalization. I do not apply these statements to everyone, nor are they aimed at anyone. I just can't help but notice.
I am guilty of wanting to give everything to my daughter. I want so much for her. But I don't get it all. I don't want to raise her to expect it all.
I expect her to keep her room clean because it is the right thing to do. I expect her to help out around the house and do her homework...because it is the right thing to do. I am not going to give her $5 for every A she earns or every time she lifts a finger around the house. I am not going to negotiate with her when it comes to her doing the things I believe will build her character. Now, I'm not saying I won't celebrate her accomplishments or acknowledge her achievement, but sometimes doing the right thing and doing well needs to be its own reward.
I want her to know the value of a dollar, and I want her to understand the economic choices adults must make to survive and support their families. Hard work is a skill and trait that I want her to earn the only way one can-through doing. I want her to be charitable and to think of others before thinking of herself.
Society is consumer driven. We live in a have more/bigger/better and buy more/bigger/better world. People flaunt their big, bigger, and colossal purchases with pride, as if owning something improves the kind of person they are. Competition and keeping up with the Joneses is driving people to debt and deeper debt.
New things are fun. They are exciting. I enjoy shopping just as much as the next person, and I splurge when I should save.
But my mind is on change. My mind is visiting my memories. I want to provide Ayla with what my childhood provided for me. It wasn't the hottest new toy or the latest greatest vacation. But it sure did make some wonderful memories and instilled the virtues in me that I think make me a pretty decent gal most of the time.
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