Bringing common sense with a grain of salt back to parenting!
Gifts are nice, but a hug is cheaper and doesn’t require batteries ... and its effects persist much longer than anything that comes wrapped in plastics or in a cardboard box.
Mistake: Substituting gifts for genuine connection.
Consequence: “They may hate me, but at least they have the latest gaming console.”
Reality Check: Memories outlast toys. Usually.
Kids love stuff. Parents love seeing kids love stuff. Enter: the seductive loop where “buying” starts to feel like “parenting.” But when toys, gadgets, and Amazon boxes start piling higher than your actual connection, something gets lost. Let's look at how the “stuff = love” trap happens, why it’s so tempting, how it changes kids’ expectations, and most importantly, how to step off the treadmill and rediscover what lasts longer than two AA batteries.
THE ISSUE
Few parenting highs compare to giving your kid a gift.
Their eyes widen.
They gasp dramatically.
They do that little happy-dance that looks like a cross between breakdancing and electrocution.
For thirty seconds, you are a rock star, a hero, maybe even the parent you always imagined you’d be.
But here’s the catch: joy from stuff is like a sugar rush. It spikes fast… and crashes just as quickly. That toy that felt like the pinnacle of happiness on Saturday morning is abandoned under the couch by Tuesday.
So you buy again. Another quick hit. Another squeal. Another crash. Suddenly, Target runs, Amazon carts, and surprise “just because” toys aren’t occasional delights — they’re the parenting default.
It starts innocently enough:
Missed the soccer game? Bring home LEGO.
Working late all week? Throw in a plushie at checkout.
Felt guilty for yelling at math homework? Add-to-cart therapy.
The problem? The more we equate “stuff” with “love,” the more we accidentally teach our kids the same.
WHY PARENTS DO THIS
We don’t do it because we’re bad parents. We do it because it works — at least in the short term.
The Guilt Band-Aid. We all mess up. We miss recitals, we lose our temper, we stare at phones instead of faces. Guilt burns. Buying something feels like an instant apology: “See? I still love you.”
The Celebration Shortcut. Planning a big outing takes time. Baking a cake takes energy. A trip to the toy aisle takes 10 minutes and guarantees smiles.
Marketing Pressure. The world is loud: YouTube unboxings, Instagram ads, influencers with sparkle filters. Every message screams: “If you love your kid, you’ll get them this.” The subtext? If you don’t, maybe you’re failing.
Avoiding Conflict. The grocery store tantrum is a classic. You can fight for 20 minutes, or you can toss in a $4 toy car and leave in peace. Guess which option your frazzled brain picks?
The Glow of Gratitude. Let’s be honest: it feels good to see your kid happy. Their joy reflects back on us. For a moment, we feel like we’re nailing this impossible job. And who doesn’t want more of that?
THEN VS. NOW
Back Then (Gen X or earlier):
Gifts were rationed. Birthdays, holidays, maybe one “you survived strep throat” toy.
Parents showed love through time — pancakes on Saturday, letting you roam free until the streetlights came on.
Shopping was occasional. The toy aisle was a destination, not a default.
Now:
Two-day shipping makes gratification instant — for us and them.
Kids are targeted nonstop: “limited drops,” “collector’s editions,” “unboxing videos” engineered to trigger dopamine.
Parents are busier, stretched thinner, more guilt-ridden. Stuff becomes a shortcut for time, patience, or creativity.
We’re not weaker than past generations. The system just makes it absurdly easy — and socially reinforced — to swipe the card instead of carve out the hours.
HOW THIS HARMS CHILDREN (AND US)
On the surface, gifts look harmless. But when they become the default expression of love, subtle shifts happen.
Love = Material Goods. If most affection arrives in shopping bags, kids start believing love equals “getting stuff.”
Entitlement Grows. When new things show up constantly, they stop being special. Kids expect them — and sulk when they don’t appear.
Appreciation Dulls. The thrill fades faster. Tuesday’s new toy joins Saturday’s forgotten pile.
Emotional Avoidance. Stuff can stand in for harder work — listening, apologizing, reconnecting. But kids notice the difference.
Short-Term Happiness Only. New things give dopamine spikes, not durable joy. Kids risk growing into adults who shop to feel better, then wonder why the high never lasts.
Connection Gets Crowded Out. Moments that could’ve been filled with conversation or presence are filled with transactions.
And there is also the Subtle Harm: Kids raised this way may struggle later to recognize love in non-material forms — like trust, presence, or quiet support — because those weren’t emphasized at home.
AVOIDING THE TRAP
The thing is, we don’t have to stop giving gifts — but we do need to balance the love portfolio. Luckily, there are multiple ways to break the “stuff = love” loop:
Audit Your Giving. Take inventory. In the past month, how many surprise purchases did you make? What triggered them — guilt, busyness, conflict avoidance?
Swap Stuff for Experiences. Research is clear: experiences create longer-lasting joy than things. (A blanket fort with fairy lights. A messy Saturday baking cookies. A walk where you let kids pick the route. These memories last longer than the plastic toy, and you don’t have to find storage space for it later.)
Make Gifts Story-Carriers. When you do give, tie it to meaning: a soccer ball because you’ll practice together; a book you loved as a child; a craft kit for a weekend project. Stuff that connects back to you or to time together carries double value.
Offer Presence First. Before clicking “buy now,” ask: “What else could I give?” Sometimes what they want most is you — undistracted, listening, silly. Ten minutes of floor play beats ten dollars of plastic.
Teach Gratitude Explicitly. Gratitude doesn’t bloom automatically. Kids need to hear: where things come from; what they cost (in effort as much as money); why caring for them matters. It shifts the focus from “more, more, more” to “I value what I have.”
Keep Gifts Special. Scarcity is what makes something special. Frame gifts as rare treats — not daily conflict bribes. Let them learn patience and anticipation. (Some parents use a “wishlist box.” Kids can write down wanted items but have to wait for birthdays or holidays. Such a box can grow into a fun tradition — and half the items aren't even wanted anymore by the time the holiday rolled around.)
Model Non-Material Love. Kids copy what they see. Show affection through: hugs and humor; notes slipped into lunchboxes; saturday morning pancake rituals... Let them see that love isn’t always wrapped in cardboard with a barcode.
MISTAKES TO AVOID
Using gifts as a replacement for apologies.
Defaulting to “buying” instead of listening.
Normalizing treats so much that they lose meaning.
Measuring your parental worth in shopping bags.
THE PAYOFF
When you step back from buying love, you create space for what actually lasts.
For kids: Love feels secure, not transactional. They learn joy in experiences, gratitude for what they have, and the value of presence.
For parents: Less guilt-fueled spending, less clutter, less pressure to keep out-shopping your mistakes. More confidence that your connection isn’t on layaway.
Years from now, your children won’t recall every random checkout toy. But they will remember the night you built a fort, the time you danced in the rain, the long conversation you had when they were worried. Because love that can’t be bought is the kind that sticks.
© Kristijan Musek Lešnik, 2025
