creative deprivation

Dudley Dursley - the ultimate overindulged child!

We have some friends that shot this idea my way and I wanted to pass it along because I'm a big fan. The following is from a section of Amy Dacyczyn's The Tightwad Gazette where she discusses the concept of

creative deprivation:

As a result of all this stuff and stimulation, kids regard overload as a normal condition. Anything less - a walk in the woods, making cookies, or sitting in a classroom listening to a teacher - is boring. In contrast, using a concept I call "creative deprivation" is, in my view, a healthier way to raise children. The idea behind creative deprivation is that every event should have space around it, so that the event can stand out and be appreciated....Until this century, the space occurred naturally. Entertainment and material goods were hard to come by, so they were appreciated when they came along. A child cherished his few toys, and music was a special event, because it could only be heard when musicians were assembled. The challenge of modern life is that we have to actively create the space....That's why the best parents understand that their kids can have too much of a good thing. They place limitations on the stuff and stimulation. They are tough enough to slow down the flow of goodies. We're working on this idea with Molly already. I try to carve out lots of time during the week for amusing ourselves at home. In terms of material possessions, I like the idea I've heard of limiting Christmas presents to three gifts - three were enough for baby Jesus, after all, and they're not too many that kids get overwhelmed (as one nephew did this year when he lost interest in opening presents after the first half dozen or so).

Alter Ego

My husband and I both have alter egos on occasion. Most of the time we are ourselves, but when we go home to visit our empty nesting parents, we become strangers to each other. Neither of us fell in love with these strangers, so sometimes trips can get a little rough and patience wears thin. These alter egos show themselves so consistently on visits "back home," that we even have names for these ill-mannered, selfish personalities: Brittney and Kevin.

Brittney's visits to Salt Lake go something like this...

She walks in the door, kicks off her shoes, and drops all bags at the door (at least the bags she carried in - mom can help her unload the rest of the car later). She mutters some hellos while heading straight for the fridge for inventory. After she checks the fridge, she checks the secret candy stash (the location has changed since living at home - maybe that's a hint to stay out) and then onto the pantry. She is making mental notes as to what food she'll be sure to sample during her stay, and which "groceries" she will be taking home with her as souvenirs. As soon as Brittney walks through the front door she forgets that she's in charge of her children. In fact, she feels so much like a child again that she sees her kids as competition for mom's attention. As soon as she's rattled off some generic instructions to the free babysitter (thanks mom!) she heads out solo for a shop-a-thon. Brittney phones home every few hours as a gesture, perfectly aware that she has no intentions of heading back home until absolutely necessary. Throughout the trip the world revolves around Brittney. She's louder than usual, and interrupts other's conversation to talk about herself. Brittney has no social manners, but may mention a quick thanks and goodbye as she is stashing her vehicle with goodies and other things she convinced mom she can't live without.

Kevin's visits home are sort of similiar...

His first stop: the fridge! No bags to drop at the door. Why pack in bags when it will only slow his progress to the fridge? Kevin isn't married and doesn't have kids, so like Brittney, he sees the rest of us as competition...mostly for food. Are all mothers a sucker for manipulation? Somehow Kevin can make his mom feel guilty for something from his childhood and before you know it, she is pulling out a turkey and cooking a feast that would usually be produced only for a major holiday. So many things to do in so little time - Kevin is up early working on the farm, up late reminising, making one more stab at leftovers before bed. With a schedule so packed it's hard to fit in a shower, a shave, toothbrushing, or deoderant. Kevin doesn't smell so good after a few days. Kevin forgets he shares a bed on visits back home. He takes up so much of the bed that his wife usually ends up dragging another mattress into the room and sleeping on the floor. It's all good for her though- remember, Kevin doesn't do hygeine.

What is it about visiting home that brings out the self-centered teenager back out of us? That selfish person must still be somewhere inside of us, coaxed out when it finds a familiar setting.

No wonder there is a saying amongst empty nesters that goes something like "good to see the kids come home, even better to see them go."