junk.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008 at 10:03AM [i feel that i ought to warn you, at the outset, that this is a long winded post devoted to my dislike for little plastic toys. i'm not referring to legos and playmobil and the like; we've got plenty of those and we love them. and i'm not condemning plastic altogether. today's post is specific to a certain kind of plastic toy that i just don't care for. and, as always - and i truly, truly mean this - these are my feelings about what works for our family; i fully respect and appreciate everyone's choices about what works for them. really.]
my children have recently come into some, um, junk. junk. those little colored plastic whosamajigits that you get when you go to the dentist and they let you pick a prize (or three) when you're done. a whole bunch of those. and some squishy foam cubes, a blue bear-guy, a shiny stuffed orca whale, and a blow up airplane.
it's carnival time around here. next week we'll be celebrating the jewish holiday of purim, when we'll read the book of esther and rejoice at the bravery of queen esther and how she saved the jewish people from death at the hands of the persian king. it's a very festive holiday, with all sorts of dressing-up-in-costume and merriment and the like. and there are carnivals for kids. the kind in the synagogue basement where you pay five dollars and your kids can play unlimited games and win lots of junk prizes.
that, and we went to the dentist.
so we've come into a goodly amount of colored plastic whosamajigits in the last few days. which has caused me to reflect on how it is that i handle this junk - how i used to handle it (not at all, allowing it to take over and proliferate into every far-flung corner of our home), and how i handle it today.
i'm not very nice, on the great mama scale, about the junk. i don't like it. i don't like how it's made who-knows-where out of who-knows-what. i don't like how it creates all sorts of conflict and desperate last-minute-before-bed searches for its little plastic-ness. or worse, last-minute-before-school hysteria. i don't like how its little pieces wind up, invariably, under my bare feet while i'm walking to the kitchen for a late night glass of water. i don't like how it breaks in ten minutes and causes otherwise perfectly reasonable and angellic little beings to break into uncontrollable sobs.
i used to "disappear" the junk, along with a variety of other items like scribbled-on papers and tattered baby books that my children could not bear to part with. i would send d. and the kids to the playground on a sunday afternoon, and hunt through the house for all of the offending items and dispose of them (double-bagged and placed in the outdoor cans to avoid any chance of discovery) before the kids returned.
and though most of the time nobody noticed anything missing, all of that "disappear-ing" did lead, invariably, to some questioning. "have you seen my bright-pink-whosa-ma-jiggy? i'm sure it was on the dining room table." or "where is that paper-mache volcano i made in pre-school when i was four?" and that questioning ultimately led to me saying all sorts of things like, "hmmm. haven't seen that for a while. wonder what happened to it!"
but one day, a few years back, i got tired of the game. tired of the chase, the secrets. tired of the lying and the hysteria. i got clear about my problems with the junk. and i decided to trust myself and my kids.
so i sat them down and explained it to them: these toys are junk. they don't last. they're going to break. they take up space in our house. they take up space in our heads. we have so many wonderful, creative, lasting things to play with and enjoy. and i want to limit how much of this we keep in our home.
and do you know what? they got it. they absolutely got it.
we purged the junk. together. and they were happier, lighter. it was better, for all of us, being able to find and focus on toys with real potential for play. not having the constant hunting for the green alien with the parachute and hysteria about the orange plastic bookmark with the googly eyes. less mess. less stuff. so much better.
of course, they still love their junk. (and, i'm happy to say, we've devised a marvelous system for managing the junk that we do keep.) last year, at the purim carnival, when l. opened her bag of prizes at the end of the afternoon, her eyes got wide and she looked up at me with delight, and said, "it's junk!!!" but we sorted the junk on that march day last year, and each child kept their few favorite bits. the rest went out that afternoon. we kept just enough to enjoy, keep track of, and appreciate. and that was that.
this past sunday, when i told the kids we were going to the purim carnival (the first of several), b. said, "we'd better plan some time this afternoon to sort the junk." (can you se me, there, beaming with pride and joy at my boy?)
we haven't sorted yet. and we've been to the dentist, in the meantime. so we've got some work to do. but for now, the kids are enjoying their little plastic bits and bobs. and i haven't stepped on anything. yet.




Reader Comments (23)
It's a constant battle against the tat though.
please?
pretty please?
And I've decided that I'd rather be Jewish than Quaker because I think you have way more fun than us!
Michelle
By the way, I love your blog (first time visitor).
we are always fighting the junk and commericial/consumerism battle over here too. sometimes we win, sometimes we lose but at least we are fighting.