However, when a person's dream day involves a trip to the dentist followed by bloodwork (See Obsession Safety Checklist)....well, it can get tricky.
I previously wrote about this atypical parenting challenge here: What Does Little Suzie Want for Christmas?
I previously wrote about this atypical parenting challenge here: What Does Little Suzie Want for Christmas?
So, here we go again. Of course we want to make the day special for her, but if we push our ideas of what she SHOULD want on her 9th birthday - even inadvertently - she'll only be frustrated and disappointed.
Do you remember your 9th birthday? Any of your childhood birthdays? The best ones were those where we felt special and celebrated. Sometimes that coincided with receiving a Barbie Dreamhouse. Or a Matchbox cars set. I posit that the warm memories remain not because we received an ephemeral gift, but because people listened to us, understood us, and cared enough to validate us with a gift that - at that age - meant the world to us.
Do you remember your 9th birthday? Any of your childhood birthdays? The best ones were those where we felt special and celebrated. Sometimes that coincided with receiving a Barbie Dreamhouse. Or a Matchbox cars set. I posit that the warm memories remain not because we received an ephemeral gift, but because people listened to us, understood us, and cared enough to validate us with a gift that - at that age - meant the world to us.
So I dug around and was able to come up with a few toy-store sanctioned gifts that allowed us to advise doting grandparents and relatives, insistent on traditional gift items.
Mom and Dad thought we'd try something fun. We took her to Target (she loves it there - like the rest of us), and told her to pick something out for herself. Anything (well, almost anything.) She held my hand and led me around the store. The only somewhat typical choice - the red bouncy ball - came from the middle aisle as we brisked right past the toy section.
Mom and Dad thought we'd try something fun. We took her to Target (she loves it there - like the rest of us), and told her to pick something out for herself. Anything (well, almost anything.) She held my hand and led me around the store. The only somewhat typical choice - the red bouncy ball - came from the middle aisle as we brisked right past the toy section.
