Raise your hand if you’re a mom or dad who hasn’t been “tricked” by the algorithm with the 3-for-2 deal on school supplies, the check that 10000% sends you back for whatever you spend, and the mini-points that let you save more than you ever imagined. I’m going to let you in on a big secret, but don’t let the algorithm find out (I don’t think the world is ready for this…). Well, here goes: the best way to save is not to spend, and even better, to teach children to live simply.
Each of my children’s colored pencils is different and has a purpose. Each has a story. The ruler is scratched up. The pencil sharpener already holds many stories—it watched a pencil get sharpened until it was worn down to almost nothing. I resist buying everything new every year, since these items still have plenty of life left in them. At the end of the school year, I have them empty their pencil cases into a box, and together we look through them, clean them, organize them, and throw away what’s no longer needed. Schools provide a list of required supplies for each child. And my greatest act of rebellion right now is to buy only the bare essentials and shoes (it’s a quirk of mine: I don’t want them to follow in someone else’s footsteps—in the most literal sense).
When something runs out, I restock it. When they lose it, I “sell” it to them for a few cents. I always have some in stock, but I want them to appreciate how much things cost.
You might think they're too young to grasp this important message. I used to think it was pointless, too—that maybe this would be useful once they had their own money. But no. Now is the perfect time.
In June, I got one of those surprises that fill you with 100% maternal satisfaction. I have to buy new notebooks for two of my kids. The rest get them from school, with the school logo on the cover. One of the kids who uses these (an 11-year-old) came up to me while I was ironing with two whole blank notebooks in hand. And she said to me, “Mom, I gathered the unused pages from all my notebooks and made two new ones—I bound them myself. Here, take them in case they’re useful to someone.” Did you feel the same warmth wash over you that I did? A little girl took the time to remove all the loose pages, gather the unused sheets, and make two new notebooks. Of course her brother will use them—which means I was able to buy him two fewer notebooks. And the best part is that she didn’t ask for anything in return: she didn’t say, “With what you save, will you buy me something?”.
This summer I’ve been the talk of the pool—aside from the usual gear a mom of seven brings—snacks, my towel, the baby… I’d head down with a bag full of mismatched socks, with little holes… and I’ve spent my time darning and pairing them up. If the body of the sock is in decent shape, the toe and heel are darned until they’re as good as new. Socks are enough to inspire a whole new article; they make me reflect too much. Wearing brand-new socks is one of life’s great pleasures, but so is the realization that by using things for as long as they’ll last, I possess a greater treasure than what consumerism sells us.
Español 
English 
Italiano