Birthdays. I hate ’em. Mine, yours, his, everybody’s. Ok, that’s not entirely true; I mostly hate buying kids’ birthday presents. I manage to tie up all sorts of angst into a simple process–travel to store, isolate toy, make purchase. Usually I hit up the local kid’s boutique that sells cloth and wooden classic toys amid miles of beautiful and out of my price range baby clothes. This year we’ve exited that age range, and I am on my own.
It’s not that Lucy doesn’t have a shit-ton of toys, but nonetheless I find myself baffled by much of what is out there. The child for whom we are shopping is a fan of Legos. Lego is a non-toxic toy, requires no batteries, will be enjoyed by the younger brother of the child and is going to home which will never relegate the blocks to landfill. This is a purchase I can make. Except for one thing: I have never played with a Lego, purchased a Lego, or really taken any time to pay attention to Legos. The birthday party is tomorrow. Which means that today I am going…
To Target. Shit.
I have not set foot in a Target in a while. This is by design. I can go to Target for Kids n Pets and come out with 3 picture frames, an outfit (note to self…check if the skirt you bought last year fits), a Leapster game, melamine dishes, a cat toy, four candy bars and 20 pounds of potting soil. And that is 6 months pregnant. This year I am limited by whether I take the baby or not and if I can maintain a modicum of will power. Which is unlikely in the face of Target, which is why I just stopped going.
Help me! Somebody help me!
At the very least I think I come home with Legos for Lucy who has been asking for them since her birthday. I would so like to feel confident that I can walk into a Target and not buy a bunch of stuff but really, I am still struggling with remembering that just because something is cute doesn’t mean I need to have it in my house. I wish it wasn’t so hard, and I beat myself up a lot about it. The truth is, I would be just as dangerous shopping in a thrift store. I just don’t ever go to them. Maybe I’ll make it through if I pretend to have a mini David Wann on my shoulder.
It is so hard to remember that bringing stuff into the house doesn’t make us happy. I struggle with that, too. (Confessions of a garage sale addict. Note to self: one person’s junk is another persons JUNK.)
Good luck! Target is especially challenging. One nice thing is that I always save my receipts and live with the stuff for a week or two (with the tags still on). That’s enough time for me to decide if I really, really love it and if it has a filled a genuine gap in my decorating/ wardrobe, or if I need to just take it back (and then leave very quickly).
I’m not giving any advice. Target + me = no self control.
Good luck 🙂