To Keep or To Toss or To Donate

These two boys of ours have a lot of toys. While I am more likely to buy them a book (or multiple books) for any gift giving occasion that isn’t a birthday or Christmas, they just keep accumulating toys. Hand me downs, relatives and the occasional “We-Have-to-Own-That” moment on my part or FireDad’s part have our toy box and playroom stocked rather full.

And their birthdays are this coming Tuesday and the following Tuesday. Followed shortly behind by Christmas, one month and one day after LittleBrother’s birthday.

That means it’s time to clean out some of the toys that they’ve outgrown. Or the ones that they never really played with in the first place. Or the broken ones. Or the ones missing pieces. Or the ones that I would like to chuck against a wall because, really, does it have to be that loud, for the love all things toy?! That’s right. We’ve reached decision time: to keep, to toss or to donate.

BigBrother hates this time period.

Before his first birthday, he had no clue. I simply picked out the toys that he didn’t play with anymore while he was napping, sorted them into bags for tossing or donating and that was the end of the story. He didn’t have the words to verbalize his woe if he noticed that a stuffed animal was missing. (I hate stuffed animals. What a waste of space.) Before his second birthday, I also chose a nap time to sort through things. The problem with this scenario was that he found the bags when he woke up, early, from his nap. He was displeased when I explained that we were giving some of his toys to kids who didn’t have any of their own. He looked at me like I had four heads and then threw an epic two-year-old fit a few days before he was officially allowed to do so. Before his third birthday, he was seemingly okay with what we decided to donate because, to be honest, we didn’t get rid of a lot last year. LittleBrother was turning one and was inheriting most of the things that BigBrother was outgrowing.

This year will be slightly more difficult. A true Toy Purge is required.

It’s also going to be difficult because, well, FireDad and I have had it with the overabundance of toys and the mess that accompanies said toys. They’re great at cleaning their toys upstairs. They put them away in the toybox when asked and sometimes even unprompted. But their playroom? Tornadic activity on a daily basis. It’s awful. On two separate occasions, we have informed BigBrother that if he didn’t clean up the mess, immediately, we were going to put all of his toys in a bag and toss them in the trash. It would be one thing if he was playing with most of them but over half of the toys had simply been removed to get to other toys which were discarded for other toys and so on and so forth. What is it about a playroom that says, “Trash me?!” We’re working on reminding them to keep their playroom clean, like the upstairs living room, and we will continue to work with them.

But some of these toys have to go.

I’m going to have BigBrother and LittleBrother each pick three toys that they want to donate this year. I’m prepared for it to be a grumpy time but there are things that I want my children to understand. First and foremost, the above mentioned necessity of keeping a room clean and taking good care of our toys is paramount. Secondly, learning that we do outgrow toys is just a part of growing up. Next, I want them to understand how fortunate they are to have as many toys as they do. Whether they’re educational or just plain fun, they’re lucky. Plain and simple. Picking toys to give to kids who simply don’t have the blessings we do needs to be a part of their life. And, finally, I really want to involve them in the process and make it a learning experience.

That said, I am giving away more than six toys. Don’t tell them but here’s a list of things we have no use for anymore: roll-a-rounds, the baby guitar, in fact, the whole basket of baby toys in LittleBrother’s bedroom, another six stuffed animals that made their way into our home over the past year, that foresaken chicken that sings the Chicken Dance song, anything my brother has ever purchased for my children as they are ridiculously noisy toys and a few other odds and ends. Gone. Done. Not needed. My educated guess based on previous years’ experience is that, as of Tuesday when BigBrother opens his gifts from us, they won’t notice. If they do, their party on Sunday followed by LittleBrother’s presents from us the following Tuesday will erase any emotional attachment they had to the toys that have been given away.

But I’m keeping BigBrother’s rattle and the little bear he brought to LittleBrother at the hospital. What? I’m not allowed to be attached to toys they don’t play with either? Too bad. I’m the Mom and I said so. Oh? And if anyone, and this means you, Brother-of-mine, gets these children any ridiculously noisy toys, I’m going to beat them over the head with said ridiculously noisy toys, remove the batteries from said ridiculously noisy toys and shove them up the offender’s nostrils. Even if they’re size D batteries.

Think I’m joking? Try me.