Steering the good ship Christmas in a better direction
It’s bothering me how obsessed my little angels are about their pending Christmas present haul. The evidence is stacking up that we need to do a little more parenting around the less tangible joys of the holiday season.
In our household, Christmas has little to do with religion, although taking the kids along to some sort of church nativity performance might be an interesting education for all of us. I’m more thinking of those beautiful cliche´ s of coming together with family, showing your gratitude to one another and appreciating what you’ve got.
My children need a little guidance that there’s more to Christmas than large rattling boxes of Lego, but the battle against pervading commercialism is rather overwhelming.
My five-year-old has been verbally adding to his Christmas list since his birthday in July. In recent weeks, his inventory has been exponentially helped along by television advertising and shop frontage displays.
The problem with your child believing in Santa is that there are no limits to their hopes and expectations. Until the ruse is up, it isn’t appropriate to explain to him that he might not be able to get the towering Transformer set because ‘‘Father Christmas’’ is essentially trying to screw down a mortgage on a single income.
If we don’t start steering the Christmas ship quite firmly in a more honourable direction, our children might actually grow up believing the Farmers department store propaganda that perfume is (in breathy voiceover) ‘‘one gift every woman wants more than anything’’.
Have those advertising gurus not met a New Zealand woman before? For Christmas, I want a self-cleaning house, a cheesemaking kit and a garden irrigation system.
If my partner bought me a fragrance box set, I would look at him with confusion and calculate how many metres of new garden hose that money could have bought us.
Having said that, it’s supposed to be the thought that counts, so perhaps I need a festive shakeup as well.
It’s time to launch Operation Spirit of Christmas, so here’s my action plan.
We’ll do some baking for our neighbours up and down the street and deliver it with home-scribbled Christmas cards (and verbal reassurances that the children were sent to rewash their hands every time they forgot themselves and licked the biscuit dough from their fingers).
We have lovely neighbours, who feed our chickens when we’re on holiday and pop punnets of berries over the fence for the children. They deserve to be rewarded, considering they are the reluctant audience to my sons’ high-pitched games and squabbles.
Next, I’ll take the kids around the town’s op shops so that they can select some presents for their young cousins.
The plastic superhero factor will likely be high, but I’ve already sent a message to my in-laws to check that they are happy to just make the gifts quietly disappear if they don’t want them in their houses.
While we’re in the spirit of buying presents for others, we’ll explore the World Vision Smiles and Oxfam Unwrapped catalogues, so that we can each choose a small-scale gift like a frog or a chicken for a developing community somewhere.
It will take some careful explaining to the three-year-old that there isn’t actually a frog coming his way just because he chose it, but I think we can get there.
I rang the area’s Salvation Army corps officer, Kenneth Walker, to have a chat about people’s needs at this time of year.
He said that at Christmas, the Sallies try to give their food parcels some little festive additions, so Christmas mince pies and chocolates are welcome alongside the more standard food items.
Makeup and toiletries such as aftershave or deodorant could also help people feel a bit more special, and he noted that any new toys popped into the food bins will be gratefully received, as the Salvation Army works with many other social service agencies to ensure that our local kids all have something under their Christmas trees. Nice one.
Other calls were made to the Jack Inglis Friendship Hospital and to our local rest home, asking if there might be a need for visitors around Christmas. Yes please, was the enthusiastic response – just give us a ring to arrange it.
Apparently, over the holidays, residents miss their term-time visits from school groups, and some of them don’t have any family nearby.
Kenneth suggested that kids bring along some of their presents as a conversation piece. My kids love to discuss their Lego creations with anyone who cares to listen, so I think that’s savvy advice.
With all this do-goodery sitting warmly in our hearts, I figure we’ll be completely justified in heading to the State Cinema to see The Grinch, because Doctor Seuss’s words beautifully sum up the point that I’m trying to make to my children.
‘‘Maybe Christmas,’’ he thought, ‘‘doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas . . . perhaps . . . means a little bit more.’’
It’s supposed to be the thought that counts, so perhaps I need a festive shakeup as well.