Like any child who has figured out that birthdays mean cake, presents, parties, and people singing a song with your name in it, Joey has begun to talk about what is going to happen when he turns four. He tells complete strangers that they can come to his "birf-day party," asks me if his party is today or next week, and reminds us that he is not going to be three anymore after his birthday. I also think that Joey sees four years old as a big milestone. And with good reason. He knows that he will go to school when he is four. He also knows that when he is four he (supposedly) won't sleep with his binkie anymore. (After 3 unsuccessful attempts to ditch the damn thing this year, I've kind of given up hope....)
So along with the discussion of actually turning four, Joey has also started talking about what kind of present he wants for his birthday. He is taking soccer lessons right now, so I said, "Do you want a soccer ball for your birthday?" His response, "No. I already have a soccer ball." He actually just has a little squishy-type soccer ball from the dollar store, but I guess that's good enough for him. Then I thought about a bike. Maybe at four he'll be ready for a bike this summer. After leaving a playdate where Joey was very interested in his friend Will's bike, I said, "Do you want a bike for your birthday?" Similar to his response about the soccer ball Joey said, "No. I already have a bike in my house." He actually has a little Radio Flyer scooter-type bike that he got for his first birthday. But again, I was surprised and inspired by his simplistic way of thinking.
We live in a society where everyone always seems to want more of everything. One of anything is just not enough. We need bigger, more elaborate, more expensive, newer, more megabytes, whatever. Everything is always on the "upgrade" list it seems. I'm just as guilty of it as the next person, and in no way do I consider myself a minimalist. However, I will cherish those sweet moments when my little boy tells me that one is enough. If only I could keep him in this bubble and preserve that way of thinking forever. Not likely, I know. At least I'll remember that he wasn't always on the "bigger, better, more wagon" like the rest of America when he's asking me for a cell phone in the 3rd grade.