Simplifying: The Urge To Love 'It' More

A few months ago we piled our little ones in the car bright and early on a Sunday morning for a 2 hour journey to see my toddler son's cartoon hero. It's not important where we went really, so I simply won't name it (and I'd hate to cast shade on an event that I'm sure many people really enjoyed). Nonetheless, we were on the road, avoiding traffic and meltdowns as best we could, right smack in the middle of our slow awakening to slow living. See the irony?


In our rush to pack a completely litter-free lunch, we forgot to bring the travel mugs with our coffee. Strike 1 for Nicole's brain: you won't be zero waste today. After paying for coffee and coming to terms with the disposable cups, we were on the road again - only to realize they'd given us the wrong coffee order. 'Such a waste!' I lamented, and proceeded to seethe in my frustration for the remainder of the journey. Strike 2: now you're not even enjoying the car ride.

But I had not fully prepared myself for the deeper shift in thinking I would have to do once we arrived. I honestly hadn't given it much thought at all. This was not the first child-geared event we'd been to, and this surely won't be the last. Isn't this just what you do? Your child loves something and here, if you pay $100 they can love it even more, in person! It is a trend now to buy 'experiences' over things: days out, time spent together, new adventures - wasn't that the plan today? Keeping it 'simple'?

So strike 3 was a major one, and I spent the day absorbed in thought (when I wasn't being jostled in the crowd, breastfeeding a hot, sweaty baby, or flexing all my gentle parenting muscles every time we faced a long line-up). We are still consuming. Not in the literal sense of bringing something home with us, we somehow managed to navigate the giant gift shop without much trouble actually, but in the broadest sense. We are consuming the concept - the hero's face was plastered on absolutely everything, the music blared through the loudspeakers, the cartoon played on loop across big screen tvs.

It's a strange message to portray to our kids. We are essentially saying to them, 'You enjoy this simple pleasure at home, but that's not enough - so here it is on surround sound, bombarding all your senses and demanding that you love it more.' There was a point in the day that didn't go well for the organizers, and parents (desperate to make sure their child's experience was everything they'd been promised) heckled the staff out of frustration. And it was tough to watch.

A few hours later when we finally stepped back out in the open air, we took some time to just sit together before facing the drive home. It is really hard to find the balance between 'not missing out'  and not overdoing it. I'm sure we're not alone in worrying that we don't do enough for our children. Did they have enough fun, do they have enough toys, did they eat enough?

We have a similar event coming up that we've already purchased tickets for, but our intention after this day out is just to keep a quiet reminder to each other that "more" comes in many forms. It's not just the stuff we bring into our houses, but the experiences we offer our children count too.

For the record, the toddler says he had a fantastic time. And the baby, as always, was an absolute superstar given the heat and lack of freedom. It's just their imperfect parents who seem to struggle!

Nicole xx