Alternatives to Buying My Kids Toys: Fostering Connection Through Experiences

happy babyself insemination kit

Recently, I received another inquiry from a family member curious about what toys my children are currently enjoying. For a moment, I was taken aback, unable to respond. “They don’t really play with toys,” I finally admitted.

Inside, I was in a frenzy (Please, for the love of everything, don’t buy any more toys for my kids). My living space resembles a cluttered toy warehouse, and if I have to find room for one more item, I might just lose my mind. Especially when I keep tripping over discarded action figures and forgotten trinkets.

Of course, there are a few toys that get attention occasionally, like Legos, lightsabers, and a mountain of dress-up costumes. However, my kids, aged 10, 8, and 5, mostly prefer screen time, bouncing on the trampoline, or playing outside with their friends rather than engaging with the overflowing collection of toys they already possess.

So, please, no more toys. I’m pleading with you.

I often find myself sorting through toy boxes, donating items that my children don’t even notice are gone. They may grumble at first, but I’ve yet to hear them lament the loss of that purple squishy ball from Grandma’s house years ago. It seems that the older generation clings to the belief that children need toys more than they actually do, much like I dread a Saturday trip to Walmart with my three children—it’s an experience no one truly needs.

I reflect on the toys my mother held onto, hoping we would pass them down. Do I feel nostalgic about my childhood toys? Occasionally, when I see nostalgic lists online, but I don’t miss having them. I worry that my children may one day resent me for donating the giant toy truck they insisted on having during a shopping trip. After much anticipation, it was unwrapped with the appropriate enthusiasm, only to end up collecting dust in the corner.

When I hear, “I’m bored,” I suggest those toys they once deemed essential, only to be met with blank stares as they struggle to recall them. “Remember the tow truck?” I might ask, but the excitement is long gone. “No, I don’t like that truck anymore,” they reply, and I’m reminded why kids can be so frustrating.

But it’s not their fault. They’re merely absorbing the message from adults that accumulating toys is the ultimate goal. I’m tired of perpetuating this cycle and equally tired of my home resembling a landfill of forgotten toys.

Instead of adding to their toy collection, I offer a different perspective on gift-giving. Spend quality time with them. Take them for ice cream, a trip to the zoo, or a local park. They will treasure those moments far more than any toy.

If you feel compelled to give a physical gift, consider a book that was significant to you as a child. Write a personal memory inside the cover and read it to them after they unwrap it. Books are a timeless gift that can never be too many.

Invest in experiences. My children love visiting the zoo, exploring museums, and participating in community classes. Supporting their interests and encouraging exploration is far more meaningful than simply adding to their belongings. And if you join them in these activities, that will create lasting memories.

Ultimately, we all have enough “stuff,” don’t we? While there are those in need, my kids aren’t among them. I’m striving to instill gratitude in them for what they already have, but it’s challenging when relatives keep showering them with toys.

So, please refrain from bestowing my children with the latest gadget or toy, thinking it will create a bond. It won’t. I assure you that spending time with them will nurture that connection far more effectively. Join them as they run outside or take them to an art class, because I refuse to expand my living space just to accommodate one more oversized toy that will soon be forgotten.

Summary

Instead of buying my children more toys, consider spending quality time with them or gifting experiences. Toys often end up forgotten, while shared moments create lasting memories. Whether it’s a trip to the zoo or a cherished book, these alternatives foster deeper connections and gratitude.