Lately, I've been going through a tough time with the kiddos when it comes to "things". By "things", I mean toys. And books. And craft supplies. And snacks/food. And overall crap.
Why? Because they don't appreciate a damn thing.
And, that leaves me really torn. I am totally aware of the fact that munchkins, in general, are self-absorbed little souls. They can only really see the world from their own perspectives at this point in their lives. They are only beginning to understand, or acknowledge, empathy. They don't understand (thank goodness!) lack or deprevation. The worst agony or deprevation they have had to experience at this point in their lives is hearing that they can't have cookies before dinner or eat Reeces Peanut Butter Cups for breakfast ("but mommy, they have peanut butter for protein and the chocolate has milk in it! They're really healthy!") The fact that most of the world doesn't have enough to eat, or fancy toys to play with, or even flushable toilets is completely foreign to them.
And, to an extent, I'm glad that they don't know these things. They're still small. They're still innocent. I want them to still believe in the basic goodness of the world and of humanity. They don't need to know about war and famine and genocide when they're still small enough to think there's monsters under their bed and that unicorns really exist.
But, because they don't know about these things, they can behave (more often than I'd probably like to admit...) like little entitled, spoiled, unappreciative cranky-pants.
It's so hard to listen to DQ complain about how she doesn't have some fancy new techno-gadget like "everyone else does", or see WMB break yet another construction toy and cry for a replacement when I know that so many children in the world would be happy with a box to play with. It's hard to listen to the kiddos complain about their nutritious, homemade dinners (ah, yes--that's my story and I'm sticking with it...) when I know that billions of people don't even have a dinner to eat. And, when I see their playroom and their bedrooms completely trashed, I want to go ballistic because they have no concept of how lucky they are to have crayons and paper and Legos and dolls when most the world's children have nothing to play with but homemade toys made from sticks and straw. And, when they scream at me that I'm the meanest mommy in the whole wide world because I sent them to the rooms for some misdeed or another, it's hard not to tell them how lucky they are that they aren't abused and beaten for such petty things like so many children are.
So, I'm torn. I want them to know how lucky they are to have a roof over their heads and hot meals to eat. I want them to thank me and MacGyver for all the time and money we spend on carting them to activities and vacations and other fun things. I would prefer they have the respect for their possessions to put them away, in their proper places of course, when they're done playing with or wearing them. And, lord knows I'd like the incessent whining and complaining to stop.
But then, when I see DQ crying over an American Girl movie because she didn't know that little children had to work in factories (and, still do. Yes, we did have that conversation.) or weeping before bed when she tells me about how they are reading a book about the Great Depression in school, I want to shield them from all that is bad or sad in the world. I turn off the news when they walk into the room so they don't know about starving people and wars and dictators and missing or murdered children.
So, I ask y'all--what do you do? Do you let your children know about the realities of the world? If so, how to you make it appropriate for children? Should I shield them for a little while longer? Or, is this just completely normal for kids to be ungrateful little gremlins?
I suppose all of us (or, at least, most of us) were the same way as kids. That our parents, and our parent's parents, ad nauseum, complained about the same things. For all I know, cave moms and dads grunted about how their bundles of joy had no appreciation for the work it took to kill and cook the mammoth for dinner, and that they weren't grateful for the lovely leather and fur coat that mommy made from the bear they ate last month, because they wanted a racoon coat not a bear coat, because Susie next door had a racoon coat with a tail on it, and their bear coat was just boring and stupid and that their cave mommy was the meanest mommy in the whole wide world....
Anywho, if anyone has a great idea about how to encourage gratitude (an idea that works, that is. Lots of "experts" have ideas, but the don't work so well...), I'd love to hear it. And, if you're going through the same thing with your kids, I'd love to hear about that too so I'd feel like I was at least in the same boat as some others.
