Creative deprivation

I first read the of the idea of creative deprivation in Amy Dacyczyn's Tightwad Gazette. Back when I had three children under three, and no pennies to rub together at the end of the month, I would read her newsletters for inspiration. Her "thriftier than thou" attitude was a little much for me at times, but her writing helped me get the most out of our limited income.

The idea behind creative deprivation is that if you don't buy a bunch of stuff for your children, they will be grateful for what they have and be more creative with what they find. We didn't decide to follow this philosophy; we simply did not have any money. Rather than feeling like I was ripping off my children, I tried to encourage myself that I was nurturing their creativity. The doubt was still there, though. "What if all this stuff really is necessary to become a whole and healthy adult?"

This August I will finish my sixteenth lap on the track called parenting, and I no longer doubt. Creative deprivation has served us well. I appreciate having a little room to wiggle with our finances, but I am deeply grateful that we were not able to buy "everything" for our children when they were younger. They are grateful for what we give them, they work hard to earn money for scout camp or a new backpack, and they are still thinking up crazy ways to play together.

The latest game? Water ball. The rules? Well, I couldn't begin to describe the game, but it has something to do with the two older boys dunking the basketball while the two younger siblings and Daddy spray or throw water in their faces. They think this is hilariously funny. The boys get points when the ball goes in the hoop, and the water team must get points when they thwart the dunking boys. It makes no sense to me, but it sure makes me smile to see them dunking, spraying and howling with laughter in the backyard. And all they needed was a hose, a bucket, a couple of empty yogurt containers, and a basketball.


Water ball

In the old days, we made sure we had a little money for sunflower and morning glory seeds or a trip to see Gram. Long walks and piles of books from the library were free; dancing to music in the living room or reading those books together for hours didn't cost anything either. Huge murals on the wall, covered with art work or thankful lists or funny quotes, filled out our rather "eclectic" decorating scheme, and little treats like ice cream cones made us feel like kings and queens. Somehow, as we scrimped and saved and worked hard to make it all stretch, five children had the seeds of creativity and gratitude planted in their souls. The unintentional result is something money can't buy, but it is what our hearts desired for our children all along.