The Christmas List Test: Why I Want My Kid to Make a Wish List From Memory

It's that wonderful time of year.

You know, the one where we're all caught in the throws of HalloThanksMas. Halloween hasn't even had the courtesy of packing up its decorations before Christmas trees, inflatable Santas, and enough tinsel to choke a reindeer start appearing in stores.

Now, I'm going to get a little controversial here: I fully support putting up a Christmas tree before Thanksgiving.

There. I said it.

Christmas is a season, and if you wait until after Thanksgiving to decorate, you're getting roughly a month to enjoy everything you dragged out of storage, rearranged your living room for, and inevitably had to untangle. That's an awful lot of work for a single month. I want my money's worth out of those decorations.

But I digress.

By this point in the year, most of you have probably received the Walmart and Amazon Christmas toy catalogs. We certainly have.

And if you grew up in the era of the JCPenney Christmas catalog, you know exactly what I mean when I say those things were an EVENT.

I remember flipping through those pages as a kid, circling the things I wanted, and imagining what might magically appear under the tree. It was practically a Christmas tradition all by itself.

Now, as a parent, I get to experience the other side of that tradition.

And apparently, my child believes I work for the mob.

Because the number of toys she would like to receive for Christmas suggests that there is a small fortune available to us that I have somehow failed to disclose.

Every toy is suddenly a must-have. Every new doll, craft kit, game, and sparkly thing deserves serious consideration. And don't even get me started on how quickly a new favorite can appear after approximately twelve seconds of looking at a catalog.

I understand it. The things are right there in front of them! They're colorful, exciting, and specifically designed to make kids believe their lives will be incomplete without them.

But it got me thinking about something my aunt used to do when I was growing up.

The "Tell Me Tomorrow" Method

I remember my aunt telling my cousins that if they wanted something, they should remind her about it tomorrow.

At the time, I'm sure it felt like one of those annoying adult things adults do when they're trying to avoid giving you an answer.

But later, she explained the reasoning behind it.

It's easy to get excited about something when it's directly in front of you. You see it, you want it, and suddenly you can't imagine wanting anything else.

But give it some time. Put a little distance between yourself and that thing. If you're still thinking about it tomorrow, or a few days later, maybe there's something more to that want.

And if you've completely forgotten about it?

Well, maybe it wasn't quite as important as it felt in the moment.

I've always thought there was something really useful about that idea.

Not because kids shouldn't want things. Not because every toy needs to pass some sort of character test before it can be considered worthy of a Christmas list.

But because there's a difference between being excited by something and genuinely wanting it.

And Christmas catalogs are exceptionally good at making those two things difficult to distinguish.

Why I Like the Old-Fashioned Christmas List

This is why I like the idea of having kids make a traditional Christmas wish list from memory.

Not by sitting down with a catalog and circling every single thing that catches their eye. Not by scrolling through an online toy store and adding things to a list as they go.

Just sitting down with a piece of paper and asking themselves:

What do I actually want for Christmas?

What have I been thinking about? What have I been talking about for weeks? What would I be genuinely excited to unwrap on Christmas morning?

The goal isn't to make a child prove they deserve presents or to turn Christmas into a lesson about gratitude every five minutes. Kids are allowed to be excited about toys. They're allowed to change their minds. And they're absolutely allowed to discover a new interest.

The point is simply to give those wants a little room to breathe before turning them into a shopping list.

It also gives parents a little insight into what their kids are interested in when the latest commercial isn't doing all the talking.

Maybe your child keeps asking for art supplies because they've really gotten into drawing. Maybe they've been talking about a particular building set for weeks. Maybe the thing they remember most is a board game they played with the family or a book they want to read.

Those are useful things to know when you're trying to choose gifts that will actually be enjoyed long after the wrapping paper is cleaned up.

And, if we're being practical here, it can also help keep the Christmas budget from spiraling out of control.

Because I love my child dearly, but I cannot purchase every single item that has ever crossed her field of vision. Nor do I think I should have to.

A Little Breathing Room Before the Big Day

One thing I'd like to make clear is that this isn't about expecting children to know exactly what they want weeks or months in advance.

They're kids. Their interests change. Sometimes the toy they were desperate for in October is forgotten by December, and sometimes they discover something new a week before Christmas that becomes their entire personality.

That's normal.

Instead, I like the idea of treating the first Christmas list as a starting point rather than a final contract.

You could even make it a little tradition.

Step one: Put away the catalogs and ask your child to write or draw the things they'd like for Christmas from memory. Younger kids can dictate their ideas or draw pictures.

Step two: Set the list aside for a few days. There's no need to make it a big production. Just let life happen.

Step three: Come back to the list together. Are those still the things they're most excited about? Have their interests changed? Is there anything they forgot to include?

Step four: Use that revised list as a guide, not a guarantee. Parents still have budgets, practical considerations, and their own judgment to factor in.

And that's it.

No complicated system. No elaborate printable that requires seventeen supplies from the craft store. No expectation that your child will suddenly become a tiny financial planner.

Just a little pause between seeing something and deciding they need it.

Christmas Doesn't Have to Be a Competition

I think it's easy to get caught up in the idea that we're supposed to make Christmas magical by buying all the right things.

The perfect gifts. The big surprises. The things our kids will remember forever.

And, sure, presents are exciting. I love finding something I know will make my daughter happy. There's something wonderful about watching a child unwrap a gift they've genuinely been looking forward to receiving.

But I don't want Christmas to become an exercise in trying to fulfill every passing wish, either.

I want to find gifts that make sense for our family, fit within our budget, and bring some actual joy to the person receiving them.

I want my daughter to have fun dreaming about Christmas without feeling like every want needs to become a purchase.

And I want to be able to enjoy the season without feeling as though I've somehow failed if I can't produce every item on a list that was inspired by a 64-page toy catalog.

Sometimes, a little time and distance can help us figure out what's worth holding onto.

That lesson works for adults, too, if I'm being honest. There have been plenty of things I've wanted in the moment that I completely forgot about a week later.

Apparently, my aunt was onto something.

So this year, as the catalogs arrive and the Christmas wish lists start taking shape, I think there's value in bringing back a little of that old-fashioned magic.

Let the kids dream. Let them circle the toys and get excited about what's new.

Then put the catalogs away, grab a piece of paper, and see what they remember.

You might discover that the things they really want are a little different from the things they thought they wanted.

And if nothing else, you might end up with a Christmas list that doesn't require you to rob a bank to fill it.

Which, in this economy, feels like a pretty good Christmas miracle to me.