A few weeks back, my mom did an amazingly sweet thing.
She bought my five youngest kids Fidget Spinners.
You know— those hand-held whirlygigs that exploded from OT tool to classroom distraction early last year? My mom saw kids in her neighborhood with them, and understandably assumed that since she hadn’t seen her grandchildren spinning doo-dads in her presence, they didn’t have them and might want them. So, being a loving grandma, she set about making that happen.
What she didn’t know was that my kids had actually seen Fidget Spinners. (Was it possible not to have noticed them?) A friend somewhere had given them lessons on what they were and what you did with them. And my kids, rather than feeling left out or whining to me or their dad that “everybody has one I want one too!” had gone about the business of fashioning one. John Mark used some washers, a bolt, and triangular section of heavy cardboard to create what was a very passable Fidget Spinner. They passed it amongst themselves for the better part of an afternoon and then, when the novelty wore off, they broke it down and threw the bits back into the big box of spare parts and such they’re allowed to rummage through under the workbench.
It’s one of the side-effects I honestly treasure the most about our somewhat against-the-grain life; whether it’s because of homeschooling, or a focus on spiritual over material, or the make-do of a lower-than-average income, our lifestyle lends itself to valuing creation over consumption. And the results are often far more joyful than anything we could have picked up at the local big box store.
Take, for example, my kids’ current obsession with street hockey.
All eight of them love it. How could they not? It’s hockey! But unlike soccer, which just requires a ball, hockey needs a few more accessories. Namely, sticks.
Cheap sticks run $10 each. That would nearly $100 invested for our troop. And it would be worth it. I’m not saying it wouldn’t. Those sticks would get so much use around here that I’d never regret a single cent. But I don’t have to even ponder it, because when the kids decided they wanted to play, Mathaus and Jack ripped apart a few pallets we had collected, measured their siblings, and used a jigsaw and sander to custom-make their own version.
Now, a couple of nights a week, they’re out on the small patch of blacktop driveway out front, slinging a tennis ball into soccer nets. (Those soccer nets don’t get much rest, because the other nights, they’re on the receiving end of soccer balls!)
Other families with similar values have shared almost identical experiences: kids who don’t ask, who don’t look for someone else to fill their desire, but instead try to find ways to creatively solve their own problems. Yes, it’s messy business. It means kids who get splinters sometimes, and who ask you to pick up hinges at the hardware store. It means having hard and fast rules on how old you have to be to operate a power tool, but also actually training (and then trusting) your kids to do it safely when the time is right. It means kids who are rarely happily parked in front of a television, or quiet in their own room contained by an electronic device. But it does mean children who are busy, curious, and eager to test the waters of their own imaginations. And that, I think, is well worth a garage floor often littered with sawdust and an ever-growing stack of scavenged pallets cluttering my pole barn.
In the end, I asked my mom to keep the Fidget Spinners at her place, as special treasures to enjoy when they visit. The kids will be delighted to get them out, and she’ll love watching them play with her gifts. Now if I can just make a note to remind them not to take them apart to see what makes them work…