When Our Kids Catch the Marketing Bug

I made a rookie parenting mistake. I left a toy catalog open on the kitchen table… right at a 4-year-old’s eye level.

“Ooooo, what’s this? I want that! And this! I want this for my birthday! Can you add it to my list*? I want everything on this paaaage!”

*This is an imaginary list where all his fleeting requests go.

My innocent little boy was bitten by the marketing bug.

I didn’t know what to say. This was a teaching moment, a chance to talk about thankfulness for what we already have and other kids don’t have, and about how you don’t get a truck full of gifts for your birthday or Christmas.

I was tongue-tied, and I stumbled through a speech about all the aforementioned lessons. He moved on to playing while I was left to figure out how to navigate this the next time.

As a kid, I remember studying the Toys-R-Us catalog, circling all the toys and games I wanted, and dog-earing pages to make it “easy” on my parents.

I also remember sitting at my laptop just last week, finger hovering over the “Place Order” button on a pricey set of twin bed construction sheets I thought my son would love. The bedding was marketed to me on Facebook…and Instagram…and email, and it was perfect in every way, except the hefty cost.

On the brink of justifying it, I asked my husband if he thought that was too much for sheets. He choked on a Cheez-It. I had my answer and sheepishly closed the laptop.

The next day, I took my son to Target and let him peruse the kid bedding aisle.

He immediately spotted car sheets, exclaimed about how cool they were, and hugged them to his chest. He didn’t need to see any other options. And they cost a third of the set in my abandoned online cart.

I read recently that we see upwards of 4,000 advertisements in a given day. That seems like an exaggeration, right? But when I started to pay more attention, I realized how prevalent and, frankly, invasive the ads have become.

Catalogs in the mail (Are people still into these? Guilty). Ads between every few Instagram posts and stories. Coupons flooding our email inboxes. Magazines that are ad-heavy and content-light. Commercials, billboards, radio. Even in the news.

It’s overwhelming, distracting and…effective.

I’m frustrated (and questioning my parenting) when my kids ask for the shiniest new toy or tell me they’re bored while standing next to bins full of forgotten toys. How could they ask for more?

I may not exclaim “I want! I want!” when I see the latest tablescape from Pottery Barn or the serene model lounging in cozy-chic sweatshirt tranquility. But I do wish I had it. It gets into my brain and tells me my table isn’t stylish enough or my clothes aren’t trendy enough.

The “what if,” “if only I had,” and “someday” dilute our appreciation of the now.

Just as with my son, I allowed someone else to tell me what I want and need. I let a future “joy” – reliant on something I didn’t or couldn’t have – distract me from my present joy, rooted in a life of answered prayers, thoughtful choices, and more than enough.

As my pastor reminded us this week in teaching Luke 12:15, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of one’s possessions.” Oh, how easy it can be to let our guard down.

I forgot about all I had to be grateful for and saw what I thought was missing when there wasn’t anything important missing at all.

For me, some ways of filtering my influences are deleting social media apps, unsubscribing from email ads, and recycling catalogs before they make it in the house. It might sound silly, but removing even a few of these influences allows me to focus on what gives me joy now versus what “could” bring me joy.

The process isn’t perfect, and the influences get smarter every day. But I’ll keep trying to guard myself and my family so we don’t lose sight of the plenty right in front of us.