Reuse, reuse, reuse

My Smith Family Budget Reductions Strategy #11 is easy to understand but so very hard to execute because I like to buy new things.  I want to buy new things.  I feel entitled to them.  It's ridiculous, really.  Here is a truth: I don't need to buy new things very often, and you probably don't either.  In most cases, we just simply want to scratch the itch. 

Owen Ray's Easter basket is a perfect example. Do you know that every year I get it in my head that Owen Ray needs a new one... needs. I don't know why.  He's never mentioned it.  He seems very fond of his little alligator/dinosaur/green thing, and it's been kickin' along just fine for 4 years. Still, year after year, come Easter time, I will head to the basket section and begin the exhilarating process of picking out the absolute, perfect, knock-his-socks-off basket.  Why?  No clue, but so help me I will leave with a brand spankin' new basket and a shopper's high. 

Then something clicks.  My shopping cart and I make a sharp turn and head in the other direction.  This is clearly a Joseph and Potiphar's wife scenario, and that conniving Easter basket has got my cloak. 

Here is my encouragement to you, my shopping friend: run, run like the wind. 

Birthday expectations

There is a little known secret that I am about to share with you.  Ready for it?  You do not have to host a big, costly birthday party for your child every year.  If you just gasped in horror, I understand.  I really do.  You've probably received invitations to attend four separate birthday parties in the next thirty calendar days.  How could you NOT throw your child a party when clearly all of these other kids are having big shindigs?  Isn't that a form of neglect?

Background: I remember having one big, blowout party for my 6th birthday.  I got tons of gifts, all my friends came, and it was a lot of fun.  But I remember my 13th birthday party, too, when my dad and I hung out and went ice skating. Equally awesome. The overwhelming majority of my birthdays consisted of me getting to skip out on my chores for the day, choose the dinner I wanted my mom to cook that night, and decide on the flavor of cake she would bake for me.  My parents would decorate the dining room table for us the night before, and on the morning of our birthday we would bound down the stairs to "ooh" and "ah" at our decorations and party streamers. 

I don't remember my parents being emotionally or financially stressed by our birthday parties, and Trey and I hope to accomplish the same.  So here's our Smith Family Budget Reduction Strategy #10: We host a birthday party once every three years for each of our kids.  That means instead of having planned--and paid for-- 6 parties (4 for Ray; 2 for Chandler), we've hosted a whopping 1 party: Owen Ray's 3rd birthday.  The rest of the birthdays have been spent with family.   We decorate the table the night before, I bake a cake for the birthday boy/girl, and we have a fun, stress-free day, thanking God for putting this special person in our lives.  You have the freedom to mix it up.  Your child will not hold it against you that their siblings were the only people who attended their first birthday party or that they received stacking cups instead of a baby-friendly Ipad.
 
I firmly believe we should be celebratory people.  We should actively seek to invite and share our lives with other people; birthday parties can be a great way of doing that. My kids have enjoyed dressing as pirates and being serenaded by Cinderella; they've traversed a balance beam and leapt high on a trampoline; they've made bird feeders and jumped in bounce houses -- all at wonderful birthday parties.

BUT... if you're a person whose previous party hosting experiences have been filled with anxiety and dread -- give yourself a break.  If your little introvert shuts down and wants to hide in the corner as soon as the guests start showing up -- think about postponing parties until they can enjoy them. If you and your husband are in conflict because you can't decide whether you should dip into savings or put the party on the credit card -- someone needs to throw a flag.  You do NOT have to keep party-planning.  It's not fun for you; it's not fun for your kid.  Go to the park! BBQ outside! Invite a few buddies to share a picnic with you.  Your child will still feel loved... and you can use the money you didn't spend to pay off some student loan debt :).

Oh, Outer Space

Today we learned about the solar system.  The boys each colored their own planets and we cut and glued them to large sheets of construction paper.  We sang a song to help us learn the name of the eight planets.  Owen Ray had so many questions about what made each planet different from the others.  I’m afraid we’ll have to learn most of that together in the coming weeks as I do not remember most of my elementary education regarding astronomy.   Tonight before the boys went to bed I read them the story of the birth of Jesus, of our King.  Chandler saw the star above the stable and cried out “A star! A star!”  Having spent the whole day introducing them to the concept of outer space, I felt like this would be a perfect night to take them outside to see the real stars before they shuffled off to bed.  We walked out onto the front porch all in PJs and I asked them if they could find any stars.  At first, the sky was so vast and so black that we didn’t notice those pinpricks of light, but our eyes soon adjusted and we saw dozens and dozens of stars.  Owen Ray turned to me and asked “Mom, are stars sticky?”  I asked him to clarify, not sure if I had heard right.  “Are they sticky on one side,” he explained, “so that they can stick up on the sky.”  Multiple thoughts followed.  First, my son is adorable. Second, I would love to see the world through his eyes.  Third, are gravitational forces pulling planets in orbit any weirder than thinking that stars have a sticky side to adhere to space?  When we got back inside, I pointed them to the verse that’s above their table right now.  It’s from the Psalms and it says “…praise Him all you shining stars.”  Indeed.