I am in the middle of a full-blown panic attack. There is just TOO MUCH CRAP IN MY HOUSE! I am currently trying to reorganize the kids' toys after the holidays and I have no place to put anything. This is just ridiculous. My kids have so much stuff and they haven't played with half of it in I don't know how long. Days like this I want to leave all of our junk behind, move to a farm somewhere and have my kids whittle their own toys.
Since when did all this crap become a requirement for a happy childhood? Is the mental well being of a child proportional to how much plastic junk they can contribute to a landfill? Didn't kids in the 50's have, like, a jump rope and a rag doll? And God forbid I put limits on what people give them, or having them donate some of their gifts to charity a la Joan Crawford in Mommy Dearest. I'm beginning to understand her more and more. Remember how Type A and organized she was? I kind of admire her now. Except for the beatings. And my freak out would have me screaming, "NO MORE POLLY POOOCKETS!" rather than wire hangers. Of course, I would also be in a fabulous dressing gown and face full of cold cream.
My new strategy is to sneak stuff out into the garage, cover it with a sheet and if they haven't asked about it in two months throw it away. There's the other tragedy. Because it is nearly impossible to get a charity (women's shelter, day care center) to accept gently used toys I have to dump it. Apparently charities want new stuff too!
And I know there will be some smug idiots out there who either don't have kids or have their first and after reading this will say, "That'll never be me", as they wipe the Chai latte foam off their sneering lips. Sure, we all say that, but the God's honest truth is, I bought maybe 25% of this stuff. The truth of the matter is, people like to give kids toys and you look like a schmuck if you tell their - in my case awesome and amazing - grandparents that they can donate money they would have spent on Junior to save the rain forest. Trust me, I would LOVE to have all the money that has been spent on my kids go to someone more deserving, but my hands are tied. How do you deny your kid the joy of opening presents and the people they love the joy of giving them?
Speaking of, the kids' birthdays are all in the summer so I know six months from now I'll be dealing with another plastic deluge. I am drowning in a sea of consumerism and I don't see a life boat. I have to take a stand somehow. Perhaps a "books only" birthday is a good idea. That way at least they're getting something enriching out of the whole experience rather than another doll or figure whose insipid mug will taunt me from the overcrowded playroom shelves.
Fisher Price you are the devil incarnate.
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