Unrealistic Expectations and Perfect Beauty - Lessons from the Tree

December with a five-year-old is a December of Magic. It's only Dec 6, and already my heart is full of undeserved Christmas riches and hands are full of words that must be set down on a page. But first, lessons I learned from my Christmas tree.

December 1st - Finding the (im)perfect tree

I walk amongst the evergreens at the tree farm, grimacing wistfully at the prices of the tall, full, beautiful trees standing in neat rows. I sigh and turn for the back of the lot where the bargain trees are kept. On the end of the back row is a noble fir about my height with several bare places. The branches show signs of recent vigorous pruning, ending in blunt white tips, instead of smaller fir needles. I head back to the taller noble firs, look again at a price tag that still hasn't changed, sigh, and head back to the little tree on the end in the back.

As I stand examining the asymmetry of the tree, my husband remarks casually, "You know, a real Christmas tree should be at least somewhat authentically imperfect..."

God bless that man. 

We choose the less expensive (and naturally imperfect) tree. Jane was delighted, and I quickly warmed to the thought of a smaller, authentically imperfect tree.

Jane already has a present from Tete Tanya even before we get our tree.

Home from choosing a tree, Jane begs Steve to put up lights outside. With only a few moments of daylight left hanging on the horizon, Steve and Jane decorate the little palms in front of the house. (And yes, for anyone not in Southern California, as long as the sun hasn't gone down here in the desert, we can put up Christmas lights in shorts. Wrong on sooo many levels, I know.) 

While Steve and Jane are working on the lights, I have a moment to look at our tree again, and smile. I'm very happy with our choice, and wonder what kind of tree I had envisioned before we chose this one. "I dunno," I say to myself, "maybe a smaller version of... the White House Christmas tree standing somewhere in my living room?" I laugh, knowing we have no room for a large tree, and that any evergreen that smells like Christmas would serve the purpose. Why would I spend time looking at trees, entertaining unrealistic expectations, even for a moment?  

Then I realized with groaning admission that I have unrealistic expectations in other corners of my brain, concerning, for example, the time required to complete an given task, the willingness of my daughter to be corrected, the potential of perennially clean hardwood floors and a tidy house, and of course, looking as young as I think I should, etc. 

Or, even better, dealing with THAT guy. We all have that one person we have to endure, who seems to have been put on this earth to make us better people. No amount of wishing that person were different will make it so, just like no amount of kibbles fed to a bear will make it a golden retriever. It will always maul you if you try to pet it. It's a bear. That's simply the way they are. 

Realistic expectations. 

I could do a lot to keep my disappointments and frustrations to a minimum by really checking my expectations. So, I know that going to any retail location between Thanksgiving and Christmas will take twice to three times as long because of crowds and traffic, and there will be a long line of impatient people. Thus, I can prepare in advance to meet this scenario, and come armed with either a Kindle to bury my nose in, or I can bring printed copies of my favorite carols to pass out to others waiting in line with me. Perhaps they like to sing. (Yes, I'll take pics if I do this. The idea's sounding better all the time.)

In addition to maintaining realistic expectations, my tree reminded me that natural imperfect beauty is... beautiful.  At a time when our society seems to prize perfect beauty, and the old and imperfect need not apply, it's good to embrace the very natural with all its imperfections. I know this is something I want Jane to do, and she takes her cues from me. 

Teaching My Pre-schooler About Money

Jane receives "Five Whole Dollars!" for her birthday from Mimi

Last year shortly before Thanksgiving when my 4-year-old daughter was in the garage and found an unwrapped set of mini monster trucks that she wanted for Christmas, I had to think quickly. (Jane has loved monster trucks since her little friend Chase introduced her to them at age two.)

"Oh! Well, those are for Nicholas. It's his birthday present," I fibbed, not wanting to give away that it was her own present she was holding.

"But, I want them," she said sadly, looking at the little trucks she was holding. I knew I couldn't just give her the trucks simply because she found them in the garage. 

"You could buy them from me," I suggested. "How much money do you have?" 

She brightened quickly at the idea, having just had a birthday and received some money. "I have a lot! I want to buy them!" she told me excitedly.

"Well, let's go see how much you have. And if you have enough, you can buy these from me, and I'll use the money to get more for Nicholas," I told her. 

We've worked pretty hard to help her understand that all the things we want cost money, and we have to work for money. If we are given money as a present, then we do our work by being thankful and also by being generous to others.

I've found that the easiest way to teach a child the meaning of money is by answering the familiar, "Mommy, I want this, can I get it?" by responding, "Of course. How much money do you have?" and putting the responsibility back on the child. Jane receives birthday money, coins from Father Al, coins from the lucky laundry jackpot, and she also earns money by doing jobs around the house. 

Which begs the question, what can a small child do to earn money or feel like he has made a contribution? Glad you asked.

Easy Jobs for Small Children

• Unloading the dishwasher flatware - $0.25
• Picking up things that aren't your own - $0.25
• Dusting - $0.25 - $0.75
• Helping in the kitchen - $0.25
• Helping with grocery shopping - $0.25
• Becoming a dental hygienist - $32.81 per hour

Jane, 18 months, unloads the flatware.

Jane, age 2, cuts meat for turkey salad (using a frosting-spreader)

Jane, age 4, shops for groceries using homemade index cards

Jane, age 4, is brought on to the dental team help clean my teeth
(a bigger job than initially thought)

Sometimes when I tell her she doesn't have enough money for a desired toy, she responds, "But, but I want it..." This is where I tell her, "I know. It's a really great [toy]. I wish I could get all the things I want too, but I can't. I have to save up. Everyone does. Would you like some ideas for ways to earn more money?"

We all want some degree of control over our life situations, no matter how small. When there's a defeat (No, you can't...), it's helpful to find something to hope for (...but here's how you can next time).

So we headed back inside the house from the cold garage, the box of little monster trucks under Jane's arm. Jane emptied her money bank at the dining room table, the contents spilling out in front of us. She's still not proficient at counting money, but she is good at sorting things, so I had her separate the coins while I made a rubbing of the coins for a reference page.  

We always line up coins two-by-two before counting. The pennies we lined up in groups of five, separated by toothpicks to keep them in order.

Jane had just over $10. 

"Well, I paid $14 for these monster trucks. You don't have quiet enough..." I hesitated.

"What?!" my husband protested, "You're not even going to give her a family discount?"

Sufficiently shamed, I nodded to Jane, "Alright Jane, you can buy the monster trucks from me."

"Yay!!" she exclaimed.

Jane, very proud of the monster trucks she bought with her own money.

Jane snoozes the next day, having taken her monster trucks with her in the car.

Jane has learned very quickly to save when she can, and spend her money on the most important things. As an added bonus, and perhaps the best thing for me, we almost never argue in the store about getting some new toy she sees. While there may be the occasional huff at not getting some item, it's usually after she's been given things without earning them, and has learned to expect it. A full-blown melt-down, even at age 3, was pretty rare. 

Jane's Zoo (and my pending Parent of the Year Award)

Attempting to thwart the impact of entropy and the accelerating effects 4-year-old can have on any given space, I moved all the toys out of Jane's room, leaving only books and stuffed animals. But Jane's room only began to look like the Wild Animal Park every afternoon, not a federally declared disaster area. 

I thought if I could make cleaning up her stuffed animals "fun", a la Mary Poppins, I'd win the battle and the war. After checking online images for creative ways to contain animals, we made a "zoo" by using an old cabinet and some long dowels I had on hand. 

Armed with my garden pruning shears, I measured and cut the dowels, then stuffed them vertically between the shelves to make bars. The effect was instantaneous. Jane (with a little help) picked up all her animals, separating the smaller from the larger. The smaller animals, needing more bars on the cage, went on top, and the larger animals went on the bottom (where I had cut a couple dowels too short, and only had one left). 

Jane and her zoo.

Jane was so excited, she had me make a two-sided sign: "The Zoo is open at 9am", with "The Zoo is closed at 7pm" on the flip side. 

Jane's Zoo is open at 9am.

Jane's Zoo is closed at 7pm.

Once the zoo was complete, she insisted we make Zoo Passes for visitors. I gave her a copy of Zoo Nooz (from the San Diego Zoo membership), and she chose images to put on the zoo passes. Then it was just a matter of putting them together on card paper and encasing them in plastic using wide packing tape.

Jane gets ideas for animal pictures on her homemade Zoo Passes.

I cut pictures for Jane's Zoo Passes.

Putting the passes together.

Passes for Jane's Zoo.

Pass for Jane's Zoo.

Once the Zoo Passes were completed, she dragged her little table into her room and found a calculator, so that she could scan the zoo passes and tell people how many visits they have made.

Before she sat down at her table to be the zoo keeper, she told me that we had to also have a box for money. 

"What do you mean, for money?" I asked.

"For the people," Jane told me.

Thinking she meant, for people to put money in a box to enter the zoo, I reminded her that when people have zoo passes, they have already paid.

"Nooo!" she said, irritated that I didn't understand her. "You know..." and she cupped her hands like she was about to receive something, hunched her shoulders and tilted her head, raised her eyebrows in expectation, and let out a little "Eh?"

My eyes flew wide with recognition, as she was imitating the hunched-over posture of one of the Red Cross or Salvation Army volunteers who regularly sits outside the zoo exit. We always give the woman a dollar to put in the box, and when Jane asks why, I tell her it's for people who need help.

I finally understood that Jane assumed that the woman volunteer with the money box and the red cross was just another part of the zoo! So Jane wanted a box to collect money as part of her zoo. I explained a bit about how the Red Cross and Salvation Army donations work, and we eventually made a Red Cross donation box, but that's a whole 'nother blog entry. Whole 'nother.

When you enter the zoo, Jane greets you as the Zoo Keeper, takes out her calculator and "scans" your zoo pass. She then encourages you to meet the animals, assuring you they are very tame. She usually brings out the parrot to sit on your arm, gently brings an animal out of its cage and hand it to you to hold, being very careful to hold the animal's feet, so that it feels safe.

It's been almost a week, and Jane is still very excited about her Zoo. She is careful to make sure all the animals are in their cages at night, that they are fed, and tended to before the end of the day when the zoo closes. (Winning!!)

If you are in the San Diego area, you are hereby cordially invited to come visit Jane's zoo, open from 9am - 7pm weekdays, by appointment.