On 2nd Hand Clothes, Car Seats, And Living A Simpler Life

Thanks to my beautiful friend Kaylee, I picked up this book (Almost Amish) and have really enjoyed reading it so far. I'm finding that it really speaks to things that I've been pondering lately, as well as some things that have really bothered me. It has encouraged me to slow down and really evaluate my life.

So what in the world does being Almost Amish have to do with car seats? Well, technically I guess they don't even have car seats, but let me try to connect the dots. Back around the time when we were starting our foster journey I realized there were some basic baby items I needed, that for whatever reason I had not held onto after Eden was born. I found myself trying to decide if I should go buy things again brand new, or try to go a different route and see what friends might be getting rid of or selling.

That might seem like an obviously simple answer to you resourceful people out there, but what I realized about myself is that I had a hard time asking people for help! It was easier in a sense to just go take care of it myself (although I tend to be an almost painfully frugal person, so that wasn't really a great option). I think we live in a day and age when admitting to need is just not very common - it's as if we're afraid of it. Also, there's this unspoken pressure to keep up with the latest and greatest - what cute outfit can I buy for my kid, what's the latest and greatest baby gear out there? Get around most anyone talking about pregnancy and babies and you'll hear this stuff come up. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, that's probably a really good thing. Most of you are tracking though I think. Don't get me wrong, Chris and I bought a new stroller a few months back to accommodate more kids...I'm not judging. What I'm after here is the pressure to keep up, like there is some unspoken expectation people have on each other, and then feeling bad asking anyone for help.

Well, I decided that the best way to get out of the pressure was just to do it - ask for help. I posted on two different mom's groups that I am a part of and BAM! I was instantly amazed at the response and generosity of so many, a lot of them I'd never even met before. One friend of mine gave me her infant car seat, another friend gave me TWO car seats for bigger kids, another woman I'd never met gave me a crib mattress. When we finally got our foster kiddos I had bottles, clothes, toys, etc. literally showing up on my doorstep from our awesome neighbors. I was seriously so blessed! In like manner, I posted to the same mom's group that I had some maternity clothes I was getting rid of, and through that I ended up meeting a dear friend who I still regularly stay in contact with. I think I realized that sometimes the apprehension about asking for help is really just a mental thing. I think all of us would be willing to help our friends in any way we possibly can, so let's all just ask, ok? Awesome.

Anyways, back to the Amish. The author describes how she and her husband have been on a quest to eliminate things from their lives that simply don't matter very much, and replace them with the things that actually DO. We can clutter our lives so quickly, both with physical things as well as our schedule. It really made me think - what would happen if we bought less, borrowed more, and were just simply more generous with one another? Does having a baby automatically mean we need 137 brand new items? How can we simplify our lives and combat the materialistic culture that affronts us at every turn? Are we training our kids to live simply, or are we buying them 5 bazillion Christmas presents, putting them in a dozen extra curricular activities, and then putting then in front of the TV for their free time, so that we can get things accomplished in our own cluttered schedule?

I think we'd all agree that at the end of our life, what we want to remember is time spent with family and loved ones, helping both friends and strangers in need, raising our children to be generous people...knowing that our life has truly mattered.