Spoiling Our Kids

By Amy Dickinson

My desires are pretty basic. They run along the lines of world peace, good health and an Easy Bake Oven--an item I have coveted since childhood. Don't get me wrong: I had plenty as a child, but I never possessed the light-bulb-powered "amazing toy oven that really bakes!" I ought to be over it. (We did, after all, own a pony.) But the fact is, I can't forget the toy I never got.

Childish feelings of mini-deprivation like this are, I suspect, helping fuel a run on luxury products for kids by parents who feel that their darlings should never go without. The robust economy and stock market have created a lot of new prosperity, and parents are increasingly swaddling their children in cashmere crib bedding, bespoke baby ball gowns and tuxedos for toddlers. At the same time, they are worried that their kids take wealth for granted, and struggle to prepare their teens for a less lavish life once they get out on their own. Inevitably, some Wall Street investment advisers are now recommending shrinks to help children of the super-rich work through their money issues.

In most cases, though, it seems that the ones who need help are the parents. Some think that buying little Jake the new Dreamcast game console will assure that classmates are eager to come over for play dates, or that outfitting teenaged Tammy in the fashions favored by her wealthiest classmates will win her acceptance into their clique. Others, especially among busy two-career couples, try to substitute newfound money for their still scarce time. Some executive dads think they can more easily afford to hire junior a private pitching coach than make time for an early evening game of catch.

That calculation might make business sense, but it grossly undervalues what kids want and need most: our time and attention. One of the favorite play dates in my circle is at a home where there are few fancy toys but where things are noisy and fun and the mom is always ready to take everyone to the skating rink or the zoo. When a child begs for something--whether a $500 electric-powered baby Jaguar or a $7 bottle of lime-green nail polish--she's often just begging for a conversation with you. "Spoiling" is overindulgence combined with neglect, and kids can be spoiled at WalMart just as at FAO Schwartz.

I think parents shouldn't discuss with children the precise cost of expensive items. But by teaching your child about value, you can also demonstrate your family's values. One of my friends used a recent shoe-shopping trip with his kids to show why you might spend more for something well made that will last, but should not spend more just for a trendy name or style.

Kids, of course, are less impressed by words than by the example of parents who don't spoil themselves: who admire a pearl necklace or bamboo fly rod--and could easily afford them--but decide instead to give more to the church, or add to the childrens' college fund, or send grandma on that trip she's always wanted to take.

We can also teach our kids the quiet pleasure of waiting. This year my daughter got an Easy Bake Oven for Christmas. She opened it. She watched my face light up. And she gave it to me. "You finally got your oven!" she said. What a kid! Next year I think I'll get her a Barbie Dream House--I've wanted one since I was eight.

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