Apologies for the Hand-Me-Down Life
As the youngest of three children, I was destined to be the hand-me-down kid. The outfits I wore were simply whatever my older siblings had outgrown—be it stylish, tattered, or borderline unwearable. I was perpetually stuck in the past with clothing, shoes, and accessories that my parents refused to buy new. I rode on well-worn bicycles, danced in secondhand tap shoes, skated with ice skates that had seen better days, and carried a lunchbox that was a relic long after its character had faded from popularity.
It was frustrating. I constantly roamed toy stores and clothing racks wishing for something, anything fresh—be it new socks or a cute hair clip.
I vowed that when it was my turn to be a parent, my youngest would not endure the same fate. No more tattered pants that I had hemmed multiple times, no more faded shirts that were once white, no more mismatched pajamas, and certainly no holey superhero underwear. My youngest would enjoy the same perks as my oldest, including an abundance of shiny new items, dammit!
And then, I had four boys. Yes, four of the same gender. How could I not save and reuse?
So here we are, with my youngest rocking shorts that date back to 1999. Just last week, while sorting laundry, I stumbled upon a shirt that had been passed down through four different families before reaching us. That’s right, it had four surnames scratched out on the tag, meaning it could have been worn by up to eight kids! I chalk that up as a huge #ParentingWin.
I have zero shame in the fact that my fourth child slept in a crib that had been previously used, wore cloth diapers that had been through the wringer with his brothers, and played with toys that were already a decade old. Those fancy $65 Stride Rite shoes I splurged on for my first child? They ended up on my youngest’s feet. He’s rolled old toy cars across the floor, sipped from a sippy cup with a cracked lid, and played tee-ball in pants that have seen better days. He’s donned Halloween costumes that have lived through multiple Halloweens and even carried backpacks with his brother’s name stitched right on.
Do I feel guilty about my hand-me-down child? Not at all. It’s infinitely easier to dig through a box of clothes and toys than to take a kid shopping. And let’s not even mention the money we’ve saved—it’s a substantial amount! Translation: more lattes for me!
As for my youngest, he handles it like a champ. The best part is that when I do treat him to something new, he is genuinely grateful. He gets the value of things and understands that not everything needs to be brand new. He knows what it means to repurpose, sees the benefits of saving, and has developed a level of gratitude that his more fortunate older brothers could learn from. That may be the best outcome of having a hand-me-down kid.
And all those dollars I’ve saved? I now know exactly where that money will go—toward bows, tutus, tea sets, baby dolls, and those adorable little black patent leather Mary Janes for my first granddaughter. That’s the real joy of being a grandparent: ensuring that one child will never experience the agony of hand-me-downs.
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In summary, while my youngest may wear the remnants of his brothers’ past, he’s learning valuable lessons about gratitude and resourcefulness. Plus, all those savings will go toward ensuring a bright future for my granddaughter.