Updated: Feb. 28, 2018
Originally Published: April 30, 2017
This Easter, my children barely had baskets filled with goodies. They received a chocolate bunny, some jelly beans, and stickers along with a few eggs to hunt in our yard. It might sound sparse to many, especially when I saw elaborate spreads on social media featuring soccer balls, entire candy factories, video games, and multiple stuffed animals. You could almost expect Hamilton tickets to round it out!
Yet, my kids were content, even if one did inquire about the absence of Lego sets. They no longer believe in the Easter bunny, and they know that our holiday budget went toward an unforgettable spring break trip to the mountains. We’ve decided to move away from material possessions—stuff just doesn’t bring the joy it used to. We’re all about experiences now.
We departed the Saturday before Easter and spent six incredible days in the North Carolina mountains at our usual spot (which is more like a luxurious lodge than a cabin since it has a hot tub). We embarked on hikes to majestic waterfalls, discovered our beloved hidden beach along the Chattooga River where the boys fished for brown trout and enjoyed the sand. We even climbed a mountain. Instead of buying trinkets from local shops, we collected sparkling mica chips, which now adorn a bowl in our entryway. Though the trees were bare, the evergreen mountain laurel flourished, and my sons delighted in catching salamanders by a roaring waterfall. When it was time to leave, my middle child cried because the biggest fish had slipped away.
These moments are etched in my memory. I can vividly recall the brown trout with their sun-kissed red spots, the rushing rivers from the recent rain, and the sight of my boys playing in the hot tub, moving gracefully like otters surrounded by mountain laurel. This is far more rewarding than any extravagant Easter basket could be, and I know my boys would agree.
This isn’t to imply we don’t spend money; we do, but differently. Last year, at the end of the season, stores slashed prices on children’s kayaks to just $50, complete with paddles. We reallocated funds from our Christmas budget and bought two small kayaks. My partner, Tom, and I already owned our own kayak and a canoe from our college days. We invested a bit more holiday money into upgrading our gear.
As a result, my then-6-year-old learned to kayak in his own boat, floating down Cedar Creek in Congaree National Park, navigating over cypress knees and beneath water oak branches. We spotted a brown water snake coiled on a branch during our adventure. I capsized once and scrambled back into my kayak, nervous about the fish lurking beneath. Meanwhile, he and his friend chatted about their future wedding while we adults couldn’t help but eavesdrop, chuckling and melting at their innocent plans. A stick bug even fell into our canoe, prompting my then-4-year-old to scream for what felt like an eternity.
We continue to invest in kayaking rather than toys or clothing. The sporting goods store has everything we need, from tow ropes to paddles and sun-protective shirts. On Easter Saturday, we floated down the Saluda River, with my 3-year-old nestled in my lap. We observed ospreys and kingfishers, and while Tom didn’t catch anything, we explored a side creek where we spotted muskrats. Blaise, my eldest, took joy in startling turtles off logs. When we encountered class 2 rapids, he turned to me and said, “Mama, can we do that again?”
We also explore historical battlefields. Thanks to Blaise’s obsession with the American Revolution, fueled by his homeschooling and a love for the musical Hamilton, we visit local sites of significance. We listen to audiobooks about famous generals on our way and walk the paths where soldiers fought for our freedom. My 7-year-old has learned about redoubts by actually seeing one. He even pretended to storm a reconstructed redoubt at Camden and has climbed over historic ships and explored palisades. Although gas prices can be steep, especially for long drives across the state, we adjust our spending elsewhere to make it work.
On a local level, we often ask family to gift us not with physical presents, but with annual memberships to the zoo, state museum, and children’s museum. We visit our local zoo weekly, and during the summer, we frequent the botanical garden’s splash pad even more. Blaise met his “girlfriend” there during a homeschool event, and just the other week, he had his brothers bury him up to his neck in the sand—a moment that made for a fantastic photo opportunity.
We consciously avoid accumulating more stuff. Our home already feels burdened by the excess we possess. I often feel the weight of all our belongings as I walk through the door. My goal is to declutter, not add to our collection. Sure, I may occasionally need a new kayaking shirt or a tow rope for August, our 5-year-old who’s still getting the hang of his kayak. However, we prioritize spending our money on creating lasting memories and experiences. Watching my sons glide down the river and catch brown trout are moments I will cherish forever. I hold them deeply in my heart, and I’ve learned that while material things may fill a basket, they can never truly fill the heart.
In summary, we have chosen to prioritize experiences over material possessions, finding greater joy in adventures and memories created together as a family. The moments we share while exploring the outdoors, learning about history, and engaging with nature far outweigh any temporary satisfaction that comes from buying things.