This week, my mailbox overflowed with colorful holiday toy catalogs, arriving just in time for the festive season. In years past, my little ones would snuggle beside me, eagerly circling their favorite toys with black markers, cutting out pictures of the things they hoped for, and excitedly sending off their wish list to Santa.
But this year, those days are gone. The shiny catalogs filled with race tracks, remote-controlled cars, and plush superheroes are destined for the recycling bin, never to be seen by the enthusiastic eyes of small children. I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness; my kids have officially outgrown the joy of toy catalogs, and it stings more than I’d like to admit. The era of being Santa Claus is over, and the years of toy shopping have come to an abrupt halt.
To cope with this change, I find myself wishing for a strong eggnog or perhaps a grandchild—either would help ease the transition. Their Christmas lists now feature items that can’t be found in the toy aisles of any store. Instead of hunting for the latest Lego sets or scooters, I’m off to the outdoor sports store, searching for a cooler named something like “Bigfoot,” which, supposedly, keeps ice for months. Who goes camping for that long anyway? I’m also making stops at the local pharmacy for male grooming products, wondering how many types of AXE spray a teen truly needs. I even suggested upgrading their outdated gaming console, only to receive a nonchalant, “Nah, we’re fine. We don’t want to learn new controls.” What?!
While I should feel pleased that my teens are spending less time on video games, it’s a stark reminder that they are growing up—spending countless hours building worlds in Minecraft is no longer their thing. I want to shout, “Stay young and keep playing because real life can be tough! Minecraft forever!”
There’s a small part of me that relishes the absence of Christmas Eve’s frantic toy assembly sessions and the frantic need for AAA batteries. I won’t miss the noisy symphony of bright plastic toys or the relentless searches for missing game pieces. However, I will miss the sheer joy on my children’s faces as they dashed into the living room on Christmas morning to discover what Santa had left. Watching them tear through superhero-themed wrapping to reveal the toys they had wished for, and hearing their delighted exclamations of, “How did Santa know?” will always hold a special place in my heart. I’ll miss the all-day toy playdates where they’d hop from one new gift to another, taking their treasures to Grandma’s house to keep the fun going with cousins.
The reality of having older kids during the holidays does bring some perks. I cherish not being jolted awake at the crack of dawn by overly excited children, and I appreciate having teens who can drive and run errands for me. They’re responsible enough to take my debit card with a simple instruction to shop for their dad and brothers—what a relief!
This new phase seems calmer and more peaceful, lacking the daily countdown of “How many days until Santa comes?” I’m ready to embrace the quieter holiday celebrations with tweens and young adults, filled with cash-only stockings and gifts focused on “family experiences” rather than toys. I won’t feel guilty for enjoying a more relaxed Christmas.
I know it won’t be long before the toy frenzy returns—my future grandchildren won’t know what hit them! For more insights on parenting and family life, check out our other posts, including this one on terms and conditions.
In summary, as our children grow and outgrow the joys of toys, we can find new ways to celebrate the holiday season. We can embrace the quieter moments and cherish the time we spend together as a family.