I took Jake into my office last Monday. Of course everyone wanted to see him and of course he acted weird. He does this goofy eye-rolly, tongue-curling, loose-headed, wobbly-neck, Pee Wee Herman whisper-voice thing whenever he gets nervous. He's been getting nervous around people he doesn't know if he feels like they are paying close attention to him. My office is full of people he doesn't know paying close attention to him.

I guess it was Wednesday or Thursday when a couple co-workers and I who parent the 2-4 set were talking about what our kids were up to lately. We are all some sort of Parenting Professional, I do monitoring, which is more administrative than clinical and they all do more direct service stuff- teaching parenting classes, social workers for parenting issues, family therapy, etc.

Anyway, we all know what's up with the way you are supposed to do things and what is typical behavior for each age and round about when all the developmental stages come in and how to do behavior modification without hitching your kid's tongue up to a 9volt and how to keep up a constant state of discipline for both ourselves and our children and what sort of punishment is researched based and effective (timeouts for the little ones and taking away privileges from the bigger ones is just about the only ethical thing that really works long term. Scare tactics and cigarette burns usually work too, but please don't). We've often talked about things that we do that we know are wrong, things that we want to do that we know are wrong, and the fact that there is a whole lot of pressure to be a perfect parent and make perfect kids so no one finds out we are secretly normal people with normal kids and sometimes we yell or swat at them or give in when we first said no or bend the rules somehow that seems harmless at the time but then we are kicking ourselves when the exception to the rule becomes the new rule, which defies the very definition of the word rule.

Deep breath.

It's a lot, to say the least.

Enter my little maniac of a son with his wacky tendencies and his propensity to tell you that he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to because even though you are the boss, he is the boss too because he is big now that there is an "8" on the bottom of his shoes and a "3" on the tag of his shirt and two fingers in the air when you ask him how old he is. Everyone with half a brain understands that he is "normal", and two, and usually unusually well-behaved, and two, and two. And two. But it is still awkward sometimes. And embarrassing. Sometimes I feel like I need to make excuses for him, and assure everyone he is a healthy child who has no need for a helmet nor the short bus.

It's always nice to hear other people say that their kids spaz out too from time to time. Especially other people who are supposed to know what they are doing too.

Oh, and it works, this stuff we learn about in endless seminars and teach about in endless class cycles. Even though all kids are different and everyone is an individual and we are all special, blah blah blah, we aren't really. Ring a bell and our mouths will water (for me it's tapping the spoon clean on the lip of the pot. My mom would do that every night right before supper went on the table). That is so calming and so scary all at the same time that it both puts me to sleep and keeps me up every night. Hooray for science. Maybe Jake won't be an axe murderer after all if I keep paying attention from 9 to 5.

Once we got past that nonsense, we started talking about how since most of us are raising children in better circumstances and nicer homes and with nicer peers and better things than we were raised in and with, how do we teach our children to appreciate the things they have and to know that there are other kids who don't have lots of toys or food or warmth or clothes or love? "Keeping it real", I think the kids are calling it these days. How the hell do you keep it real?

One of the guys said that he tells his 3.5 year-old son bedtime stories about a little boy who is poor and hungry and cold and and and, and a little boy named (insert child's name here) who helps his mommy collect some toys and books and food and clothes to give to the boy so the boy can be happier and warmer. He bills his boy as the hero of the story, and tells him that because he is so lucky to have a mommy and daddy who love him and are lucky enough to have a warm clean house and both parents have a career and a car and tons and tons of stuff it is that little boy's job to help kids who aren't so lucky. I like that. Jake likes to pretend to be a superhero, so why not make him one for reals for reals?

I've had Jake come with me to donate toys and clothes to the shelters and rehabs where I work. It's as simple as making arrangements with the facilities on company time and driving up on a Saturday morning (or cutting out of work a bit early when I can get my hands on the car. Shhh). Jake knows those things were once his and now they are going to be someone else's. He is pretty much okay with that.

Lots of places will take donations without prior arrangements too, especially if the stuff is near-new or unopened. But it's always good to call ahead. Some of those places have more donations than they know what to do with and things just sit and rot. If you don't want to go to a shelter, take the stuff to church or a community center with you. Or to a friend with kids who are a bit smaller than your kid. Someone always needs maternity clothes, and if you are like me you have more than one pair of pants in your closet that just can't fit around your ever-expanding midsection. And it doesn't have to be kids stuff or clothes. There are plenty of grownups who are in need too. Most towns have one of those Working Wardrobe programs. Thrift shops take your old dishes, pots, pans, furniture, etc. and some even take it on consignment. Almost every donation is tax deductible, so keep a record of what you are giving if that is important to you. I never bothered before, but I might just have to start claiming it so we don't starve to death if things tank out here pretty soon. $50 or so buys lots of ramen noodles and canned tuna. I think I just almost puked in my mouth. Maybe I'll use my tax refund on something other than college food.

I have at least twenty unopened toys down in the cellar that are amazing and fun and high quality, but we just never got around to opening them or Jake already had something similar and because I'm so mean I don't let him have a million trucks kicking around. Most of (all of) these are birthday or Christmas gifts from friends and family. I've only bought Jake five or six toys, and they are small. And quiet. Big and loud makes my insides revolt. I apologize if you come over and you don't see what you bought Jake. It doesn't mean that he doesn't play with it. I've sent some of the toys to Jake's grandparents or other family where he spends time. But a lot of it never makes it out of the box. It doesn't get thrown out, though. It gets played with by someone. Someone who I like to think really appreciates it.

This year, please don't buy Jake any toys. He has more than enough already. He doesn't need clothes. He is outgrowing his 2T's and I have two bureaus full of 3 and 4T's. It's sick. He has three pairs of shoes that fit him now, and a few pairs waiting in the wings that are size 9s and 10s. Everyone is going broke, so I will advise you to put the money you would spend on Jake in your own savings account. Don't have one? Start one. If you feel the need to give, donate to your favorite charity. They are going broke too. They can use your dollars, and they can most likely use your time if you have some to spare.

If you want to do something specifically for Jake, spend some time with him. Take an afternoon and hang out on the couch watching movies and reading books and go ahead and play with his cars and eat pb&j's and apples on a blanket on the floor. Color together. He will appreciate this so much more than he will appreciate a toy. He wants your time more than he wants anything else.

Be a superhero.

It can cost next to nothing, which is a whole hell of a bunch cheaper than what we usually do this time of year.

***

P.S.- at the risk of sounding like I think I'm better than everyone else because of my do-goodiness job and annoying habit of giving things away, I have to say I'm not. I'm mostly rotten on the inside and doing this kind of stuff makes me feel better about myself. That's all. As you were.

oh wait. P.P.S.- I asked Jake what he wanted for Christmas this year, and he pointed up to the Christmas decorations (yes, I caved. But just a little. Don't judge) and said "what? whattaya mean? I already have Christmas. Well, and I want a Christmas tree too".

Thanks for making me realize that I already have Christmas too, Jake.