Happily Ever After | Tara Edelschick

Well, I finished. I’ve gone through every toy, book, piece of kid’s clothing, art supply and homeschool doohickey in the house.

As I looked over the bags now staged for a garage sale (and pictured to the right), I prayed that this week would be more than a symbolic gesture. That by starting with the “doable work of simplifying our children’s environment,” as Kim John Payne suggests in Simplicity Parenting, we would build momentum and simplify further in ways that make room for sacred rhythms, deep relationships, and reverence for all that God has done.

I’ll end this set of posts with a reflection from Payne on the power of simplifying your child’s environment:

We’ve all met a child, or many, who believe that world spins to please them. They have everything imaginable, yet feel beleaguered, cheated. Life’s many gifts and pleasures have made them somewhat passive, world-weary at a young age. Yet that passivity has an aggressive “chaser.” If they feel they’re being denied, they can exhibit outrage and razor-sharp negotiating skills.

How does this happen? Too many choices.

…Children need time to become themselves — through play and social interaction. If you overwhelm a child with stuff – with choices and pseudochoices – before they are ready, they will only know one emotional gesture: “More!”

…We can expand and protect their childhoods by no overloading them with the pseudochoices and the false power of so much stuff. And as companies spend billions trying to influence our children, we can say no. We can say no to entitlement and overwhelm, by saying yes to simplifying.

Amen.

Amen, even though I can’t say I notice any difference yet. It was the right thing to do, and looking at their new and improved room, I feel an all too rare sense of peace.

When I showed Zach and Ezra how everything in their room was now organized, I asked them, “Do you think it feels more peaceful in here? Do you like all of the uncluttered space?”

“I don’t really notice a difference,” Zach answered.

“Oh, it looks G-REAT, mom! Now we can play happily ever after.”

I didn’t care if Ezra’s exaggerated enthusiasm was solely to make me feel better. I went with it, and gave that a hearty Amen too.