I wish it were just sugarplums dancing in my head these days.
To be honest, it's more like dollar signs or the lack thereof.
This time of the year is filled with a lot of great things, most of which are sparkly and I wish to own them.
My friends and I were having our annual “we need to cut back on gifts” discussion, which has become its own tradition. I am guessing you have a similar one with your loved ones: You set financial limits, which nobody ever sticks to.
This year, we are trying to take it to a deeper level.
And it really is going to take an attitude adjustment.
We have to stop allowing ourselves to buy into the idea that the only way to show our love is through a tangible gift. It just isn’t true. Think back to some of your favourite and most cherished gifts over the years, and most don’t have a hefty price tag or one at all.
One year, I blubbered like a baby when my sister gave me a framed piece of wallpaper from my childhood bedroom. It was this tacky 1950s puppy paper and represented the home my parents built and filled with more than I could have ever wanted, and more than I deserved. It was about the dreams I dreamed while surrounded by that wallpaper.
There was the time that the factory, in my hometown, where my dad worked for 30 years was torn down and my brother-in-law had gone and foraged for a piece of rubble for me.
Sure, it was a rock, but it represented all the hard work and sacrifice my dad had made for our family and the pride I felt that my dad made International Harvester trucks. The thought that he knew that dumb rock would mean something to me leaves a lump bigger than a boulder in my throat.
It is rarely the gift. It is the feeling that someone took the time to find something they knew you would treasure.
So, we were discussing that we have to realize that quantity of gifts is not quality and that it should not matter if we could only afford some dollar store stocking stuffers this year.
Same with eating out.
A restaurant meal always thrills me. It’s a social celebration.
The point, though, is to be able to enjoy a greasy spoon experience as much as a four-star restaurant. I would actually prefer to be able to pronounce my meal. I like a regular-sized plate with food spread out on it over a tower of unknown ingredients on an oversized plate, which just makes me feel inferior.
In our discussion, we realized we have had as much fun at a fancy place as at a dive. That’s because it has nothing to do with the place or the price — it has everything to do with the people around the table.
If there is anything that strikes fear in my heart, it is the thought of a budget. It's like a financial diet. (And no diet ever ended well).
We thought maybe we could make a game out of it. Every week, we could report back on how much we didn’t spend, or how we had a great time on a shoestring.
We could agree to use coupons.
To be honest, we didn’t make any decisions.
We know we need to be more fiscally responsible, but even hearing how "adult that sounds practically causes me to break out in hives.
It's hard to rein in the spending. It's especially hard if you are a giver by nature. I am surrounded by givers. I hope, this year, and for the entire year we will try harder to hold back and live more simply and more cheaply.
Nobody should ever go further into debt in the name of love. Giving shouldn't hurt!
Let’s agree to make each other’s lives easier. That would be the ultimate gift!
