Waldorf Real Talk: Parenting Lessons I Learned from Buzz Lightyear

The holidays can be a difficult time for Waldorf parents.

You try to keep your children sweet and avoid materialism, but the grandparents are asking for Christmas lists.

Usually your family sticks to a consistent rhythm with plenty of time for sleep, regular meals and lots of outside time, but visiting relatives, family gatherings and cold winter days turn everything upside-down.

You want to instill in your children a sense of reverence and wonder for this time of year when the spiritual world feels so close, but the images they experience are silly characters like Rudolf, Frosty and the Grinch.

Holding true to a vision of what the holidays can mean for your children is a challenging task, indeed. What is a thoughtful, conscious parent to do?

After years of parenting my own children through this season, and watching my class parents struggle to maintain a conscientious and values-driven approach to the holidays, I’ve learned a few things.

Rhythm is important.

We all know what can happen to our children when everything goes off the rails. Even visiting relatives and devoted grandparents don’t want to spend the evening with a tired and hungry toddler. Do your best to keep the big three — bedtimes, mealtimes and outside time — consistent. Your child (and the rest of the family) will be happier with the usual healthy dose of each. Even when everything else is topsy-turvy, good sleep, nourishing food and fresh air are battles worth fighting. Step up and insist on the afternoon nap. Get up early and feed your child breakfast before the kitchen gets busy. Children just don’t get brunch. Grab the coats, open the front door and get your child outside. Don’t be surprised if all of the cousins join in the fun.

Looking for a good parenting book to help with establishing rhythm and other simple parenting strategies? My favorite is Simplicity Parenting by Kim John Payne.

Choose your battles.

Consider carefully the aspects of your child’s day that contribute most to general health and well-being and choose your battles accordingly. For most, it’s the top three mentioned above. Everything else is extra. Case in point. . . 

Does this scenario sound familiar? You and your family arrive at Grandma’s house and all of the adults are in the kitchen chatting and cooking. You peek into the living room and find all of the cousins sitting in front of the TV watching Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer claymation. What do you do?

Now, I’m in full support of pulling the playdough or beeswax out of your purse and tempting the kids away from the screen with a fun craft project. But YOU might want to actually visit with your out-of-state sister. And the kids might actually want to snuggle up next to the cousins. Do you find yourself resentfully attempting to switch things up?

Settle in. Tolerate the inconvenience. Enjoy your family. Choose a different battle. Or at least a different moment.

You can’t make or break a childhood with one claymation video. 

Creating a joyful, nourishing childhood is what we all strive for. My ebook A Waldorf Home is full of inspiring ideas for crafting the Waldorf childhood of our dreams.

Keep your eye on the big lessons.

Don’t let your strict Waldorf values get in the way of truly recognizing the meaning behind the season. Let me tell you what I mean.

When my oldest son was six-years-old, I was just starting my career as a Waldorf teacher. I was full of idealism and I had a fierce a determination to hold true to the new set of values I had learned about in my training.

I recognized the value of rhythm. I thought carefully about my children’s daily experiences. I prioritized outside play and plenty of sleep. I eliminated screen-time from my children’s daily experiences. And because I was on my way to becoming a teacher, I plagued myself with a question that is asked far-too often in Waldorf circles — “Am I Waldorf enough?” The pressure was real!

Want to know more about creating a Waldorf home? Put your email here.

You can imagine my horror, then, when my son came home from a holiday celebration with his father and grandparents with a collection of toys from the film Toy Story. He received not only Buzz Lightyear himself, but also Buzz Lightyear’s arch-enemy, the robot-alien Zurg, delightfully designed as a motion-activated, moving, talking piggy bank. Calvin ran into the house with pure delight on his face. “Look what Grandma and Grandpa gave me!”

I confess that for a moment I shuddered at the idea that this robotic voice would greet me anytime I walked into my son’s room. Though I had not taken Calvin to see Toy Story myself, Disney blockbusters were a regular part of his experience on Dad-weekends. I had already reconciled myself with the fact that this media exposure allowed him to connect with his dad, and I couldn’t begrudge the fact that he had a loving, actively-involved non-custodial father.

But still, ZURG!? Even if I tried, I could not come up with a toy MORE out of line with my Waldorf ideals than this mechanized, robotic, noisy, motion-activated device designed to encourage my son to save his pennies and become even MORE materialistic! I swear, it was Ahriman incarnate!

Thankfully, hard as it was in the moment, I had the presence of mind to set aside my “Waldorf-enough” concerns and consider the situation through my son’s joyful eyes. Those eyes were filled with love for the givers of this gift, his grandparents. He had a genuine expression of gratitude and I am so GLAD this is what guided my response.

What kind of message would it have sent if I had quietly tucked Zurg into the closet and dodged my son’s questions about where it had gone? He was young enough that it could have easily disappeared, forgotten after a few days.

What good would have been accomplished if I had quietly fumed that the grandparents completely ignored the Christmas list of silks, wooden figures and dress-up clothes that I had carefully curated for my beloved 6-year-old?

Though either of these responses could have been acceptable, and would certainly have been “more Waldorf”, as you might guess, that’s not how the situation unfolded.

No, Zurg took the front-and-center position on my son’s dresser and for weeks (months?) he somewhat-violently greeted me whenever I entered the room. And though I definitely bristled, I’m quite confident that my son gratefully thought of his grandparents every time he put a penny in the bank. 

Don’t let your Waldorf ideals get in the way of recognizing and appreciating the true gifts of the season. Let aunts, uncles and grandparents give from their hearts. Share favorite holiday traditions with your children, even if they include sugar cookies, late night Christmas light tours and A Charlie Brown Christmas.

Don’t forget that CONNECTION is what we’re all here for. 

p.s. You don’t have to replace the batteries.