Remember when my mother-in-law was musing about the cost of her indulgent café breakfasts in Santa Fe? If you stayed with us until the end of our conversation, she would’ve gifted you this last gem: well, I don’t think I would go every day—it wouldn’t be a treat anymore.
I told you she was all about LBYM.
I ran into a friend of mine the other day and soon enough—’tis the season, after all—we were complaining about holiday whining (me) and holiday spending (her). Or maybe we were actually complaining about the same thing—what happens after our kids make their holiday wish list known. I suspect my friend indulges her kids … and bears a cost. I have a (hard-earned!) reputation of being rather a Grinch and bear … a different cost.
Hey, no judgment here. As bad as run-of-the-mill whining is (it’s very bad), by God, countdown-to-Christmas whining is the worst. My six-year-old has a calendar on the wall above his bed which he’s using to mark the days until December 25th—you know, like the ones prisoners use to keep track of their hard time. Oh, the privation. How many presents will I get? How come (pick a sibling) gets more? Can I have an iPad? So-and-so promised me an iPad. I want another cupcake! All of my friends have phones / video games / ponies.
All this … times three 😑.
I can well understand the temptation of just throwing money at the problem(s) and buying myself some peace and quiet … for 20 minutes. And therein lies the conundrum. Once you indulge their hearts’ desires, all you’ve done is set a baseline expectation for … the stuff. And it doesn’t just happen at Santa time. Since June, my daughter has been bugging me about what she wants to do for her 10th birthday. She turned nine in May. The end of May. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?
They’re like junkies who need a stronger dose each time to get the same high.
I like to think, in politely turning down their requests, I’m not only saving money that could be much better spent flying myself to California in February, but also teaching my kids about one way money and happiness are actually connected. Says who? Says a whole bunch of research by professors at Harvard Business School—and my mother-in-law: make your spend a treat.
Turns out we humans are pretty adept at getting used to nice things. And once that happens, the money we spend on those things translates to less and less pleasure because we take them for granted.
Do you remember the first time you flew in First Class? How about the fiftieth?
*shrug*
Nothing special, right? Now you have to fly private to get the same thrill. Or to space. Diminishing returns. Frankly, I could go somewhere warm more often, but would the trips be as enjoyable? San Diego friends—does the weather there ever get old?
Never mind—don’t answer.
So get some noise-canceling headphones, do your wallet and your kids a favor, and calmly explain that you would take them to France for their birthday, but how ya gonna keep ’em down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree?