I recently received a call from a family member asking what toys my kids are currently into. I hesitated before responding. “Honestly, my kids aren’t really playing with toys,” I finally said.
Internally, I was panicking (please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t buy my kids any more toys). My house resembles a scene from an episode of Hoarders: Toy Edition, and if I have to find a spot for one more stuffed animal or action figure, I might just lose it—starting with those decapitated dolls and fast food trinkets I keep tripping over in the dark!
Toys that hardly get touched, of course.
The family member seemed surprised and a bit frustrated when I didn’t give them any suggestions for gifts. Do my kids like toys? Sure, for a couple of days. Do they actually play with them? Not really.
We have a few beloved items, like Legos, light sabers, Matchbox cars, and overflowing bins of dress-up clothes. But my kids—ages 10, 8, and 5—would much rather have screen time, bounce on the trampoline, or enjoy playdates with friends. Rarely do they sit in their rooms tinkering with the mountain of toys we already have.
So, please, don’t buy my kids more toys. I’m begging you.
I spend hours sorting through toy boxes and donating what we don’t need. My kids don’t even notice their absence. They might grumble for a moment, but I’ve yet to hear them say, “I really miss that glittery squishy ball I got from Grandma back in 2010.”
It seems like the older generation can’t grasp that kids don’t need as many toys as they think they do. It’s like how I need a trip to the grocery store with my three kids on a Saturday—spoiler alert: I really don’t need that chaos in my life.
I think back to the years my mom saved our Barbie dolls, hoping to pass them down. Do I feel nostalgic about my childhood toys? Sometimes, especially when I see those Buzzfeed articles about retro toys from the late ’80s. But do I wish I still owned them? Not at all.
I do worry my kids might be upset one day about me donating things like the enormous toy truck they insisted I buy while I was trying to shop for undergarments at T.J. Maxx. My 4-year-old raved about that truck for a week, like it was going to revolutionize his life. So, I caved and bought it, stashing it away for Christmas. He opened it, showed just the right amount of excitement for a kid his age, and now I find myself cursing that giant truck as I try to fit it into our already overflowing toy box.
It just sits there collecting dust.
When I hear, “I’m bored,” I often suggest some of those toys they thought they couldn’t live without and remind them they’re still there, waiting to be played with. “Hey, go play with your tow truck!” I say cheerfully, only to be met with blank stares as they struggle to remember which toy I’m even referring to. “You know, the one Santa brought last year?” Nothing. “The cool one with the crane that moves?” Finally, a flicker of recognition, followed by, “No. I don’t like that truck anymore.” And just like that, I’m reminded why kids can be so frustrating!
But honestly, they’re just reflecting what the adults around them have taught them: that accumulating toys (or material possessions) is the ultimate goal. Frankly, I’m tired of perpetuating that myth. I’m also tired of my house resembling a dumping ground for forgotten toys.
When the kids go to sleep, it’s not like our home turns into a Toy Story-esque adventure. Nope, it’s more like a horror flick featuring broken toys, baby dolls with their faces scribbled out, and action figures missing their heads.
So please, don’t give my kids any more toys. No matter how amazing you think it’ll be, they won’t think of Aunt Lucy every time they see it. They’re kids, and they have enough stuff as it is to think about which relative spoiled them with that particular truck they’ve already forgotten about.
Instead, let me suggest a better approach: spend quality time with them. Take them out for ice cream, a trip to the zoo, or a stroll in the park. Those moments will mean more to them than any toy, I promise. They’ll remember those experiences far longer.
If you’re really set on giving a physical gift, consider a book that you cherished as a kid. Jot down a favorite memory in the front cover, and then read it to them after they unwrap it. You can never have too many books!
Opt for experiences instead. My kids adore the zoo and museums. They love participating in community classes and music lessons. Help them explore their interests and adventure through life instead of adding to their toy collection. Bonus points if you join in on the fun! But if you can’t make it, I’ll remind them who kindly gifted them that cooking class, and they’ll appreciate your thoughtful gesture.
When you think about it, none of us need more “stuff,” right? Sure, there are people in need, but my kids aren’t among them. I’m trying to teach them about gratitude and how fortunate they are, but it’s a challenge when they’re being spoiled with more toys from relatives.
So please, stop showering my kids with the latest gadget or trinket, hoping to create a bond. It won’t work.
I assure you, if you spend time with my kids, you’ll forge a genuine connection. Watch them as they dash outside to play or take them to an art class—because I refuse to buy a bigger house just to accommodate one more enormous truck that will be forgotten in a week.
In Summary
Rather than adding to the mountain of toys, consider creating lasting memories with experiences. Your time and attention will resonate more with kids than any material gift ever could.