we celebrated alex's fifth birthday last week. already, his christmas & next birthday gift list are six items deep. he is our consumer. bella on the other hand only wants two things, books and a horse. she reads so ravenously that i couldn't afford to keep her in books any more than i could afford to stable a horse. fortunately marty and the kids are mainstays at our local library, usually having between 40 and 50 books out at a time.
given our children's differing approach to material things, i employ different tactics in buying them presents. for alex, i try to buy him small, inexpensive things that are meaningful and insightful to show him that presents don't have to be grand or numerous to be special. conversely i tend to get bella bigger things to try to show her that there is more in the world than an animal that requires its own domicile and stable-hand.
this year i bought alex two presents. first, i got him
a movie he super-adores that we've only ever been able to get on VHS (from the library). since we no longer have a tv or vcr we haven't been able to watch it except when we go to visit grandparents. i had to search deep in google's listings to find someone that sold this thirty year old documentary on dvd. the other thing i got him was a fishbowl nightlight that caught his eye about six months ago when he and i were out shopping. as a rule, we typically don't get the kids impulse baubles while out, but he never let go of this particular item. every few weeks he'd ask me if i remembered that really cool fish-light we saw. i would say i did and that yes it was pretty cool. dreamily looking out at nothing, he would re-affirm the sentiment saying, "yeah, that thing was really cool." so i got him that and when he opened it he gave me the five-year old version of the 'you remembered' look.
i expected him to plug that shiny, glowy thing into his room and admire it often but this gem has gotten far more play than i imagined. before going to bed he always makes sure it is on and working. then he will lie down and look at it a few moments before turning over and drifting away. in the middle of the night when he changes the room he's sleeping in, and he almost always changes rooms, as he walks out of his room, he yanks his nightlight from the wall and carries it with him in his sagging arm. when he gets to the room he plans to bunk in, he searches out an empty plug (or empties a socket for the need) and plugs his fish-light in before crawling into the already occupied bed and drifting back to sleep.
i don't know if my psychology will pan out in the end, but i like how it's starting.
