I’ve been throwing away my kids’ toys for many, many years. Not right at first, of course. The few toys my daughter had at birth were lovingly gathered by friends and family who found the adorable elephant, the pink bunny, or the shiny little rattle. Only a monster can throw that sort of thing away.
But fast forward two years to when her brother was born, and suddenly we had a 900 square foot house full of dolls, cars, stuffed animals, princess costumes, McDonald’s toys, books, blocks, and also– a toy that lives in the dark corners of my memory– Pooh House.
Someone (I’ll blame my own mother) thoughtfully purchased her a little Winnie the Pooh house that came with a few stuffed animals and that child made us play with it for hours at a time for many, many months. There are only so many ways you can put a three-inch bear in a plastic swing and make him move. Even if I stretched to the limits of my imagination I could come up with two minutes of inventive play with that bear and his wretched stuffed friends. I was doomed to an infinity of minutes, bouncing him up and down and making him climb the stairs.
Oh, the agonizing memory.
Audrey finally outgrew Pooh House and, no matter what little old ladies say, I’ve never missed a minute of playing it. Do you hear me, young mothers? You don’t have to cherish every minute. Sometimes the minutes suck. Let it go and hope tomorrow is better.
As much as I’ve been scarred by the memory, Pooh House really was a good investment. We got my mother’s money out of that hunk of plastic. But really, there are painfully few toys my kids have owned over the years that make that grade. My son has a bucket of Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars, lovingly collected over nine years. That bucket still gets dumped out and played with on a daily basis. Both kids have iPods, and as much as I hate to admit it, they were good investments. The Legos have been wonderful and many are from my husband’s childhood. Arts and crafts supplies are always winners. The dress up clothes collected over the years are being played with right this minute as our little friend Emery is digging them out of the closet and and giving them a new twirl.
I will not bore you with the very long list of toys that got three minutes of play, then a year in a dark toy box, and then were silently moved out under the cover of darkness to the dumpster. We don’t have that many minutes left in our lives to list all the things.
Children do not automatically become happier because they have all the toys. As painful as that pout is in the store, when the lip comes out and the sad blue (insert your own child’s eye color here) eyes bat at you reproachfully, you can overcome, dear parents. It might feel like you’re hurting them and causing them sorrow, but making them eat their carrots causes the same sorrow. So do vaccinations. So do long, boring sermons at church where they have to sit quietly for consecutive minutes.
If we focus only on their comfort and temporary happiness, we’ll have spoiled, nasty children who think every whim needs to be met. Plus, our houses will bulge with toys they don’t really enjoy. Therefore and thus, I implore you to say no to stuff they don’t actually love. And if you already have too much stuff they don’t adore, smuggle that crap out in the middle of night and let Mr. Garbageman take it to Landfill Glory.
I mean, lovingly pack it up and donate it to a thrift store so another family can enjoy it. Whatever.
So, I have two questions for you today: What one toy have you played with and hated every minute of? And, what’s the next toy that’s going to magically disappear from your household?