Goodbye old toys. As I pick you off play shelves for the last time, I recall how your arrivals once brought so much joy to my children.
The children in this house are not willing or open to letting you go. Talks of charity or sharing with others have yet to sway their minds. A few concessions were made by my oldest, and I’m proud of that. Your departures must be covert operations, packed away, so your absence is not noticed.
Your time in our house is done. Perhaps you have not been noticed in a while. Too many of you have been accumulated over time.
Days of you being chosen as purposeful playthings are over. The children have grown and moved on since you came into our lives.
It’s hard for me to let go. I’ve organized you in clearly labeled bins, hoping someone would choose you once again. I’ve rotated your presence to make you seem new again.
I have rooted for you to be the favorites and remain in our home to occupy my three children, to fill their days with imaginative play and fun. Some of you have been that toy for a period of time. A few toys have been impulse purchases of mine. The last-minute “guilt” gifts of knowing you don’t have grandparents, aunts, and uncles to spoil you on holidays.
Whether you were a favorite or an extra, I thank you for the part you’ve played in my babies’ childhood.
Our home, our playroom, and our closets cannot accommodate every toy. Writing this seems very materialistic, but the toys in our house have been more than just “things” to me. Toys are part of many of my memories.
They are part of birthdays, Easter, Christmas, and days playing at home. Removing them from our home means that my children are growing up. Daniel Tiger’s trolley won’t be driven in our halls, Minnie Mouse won’t dress up in her bows, Doc McStuffins won’t give any more checkups, and the sound of Elmo’s laugh will not be heard.
This year has proven all too clear that we don’t need more things in this house. Our holiday will be simpler, and our wish lists shorter. Toys that are gifted will be less in number and of an open-ended variety.
I hope you move on to a child who will love you. I hope you become some child’s favorite as some of you have once been to mine. I hope some child chooses to play with you first and many times before they too are ready to let you go.
