Toys and Cardboard Boxes

Every child needs a toy.  Or does he or she, and at what age?

Let’s see, when I had our first child, Lisa, I felt I wanted her to have anything and everything we could to make her happy. 

The problem was that she was born a week before Christmas.  That first year doesn’t count as she was only days old.  But I don’t know why, but for some reason, the next year I felt that we had to get her everything that she could play with until, say, her fifteenth birthday.  Seriously!!  I can’t believe this today, but I purchased a child’s size table and four chairs; a doll high chair, dishes, dolls, and clothes for the dolls, and the list goes on.  Looking back I think I must have had a screw loose as who at the age of one would even know what to do with those items.  I do remember her standing, looking sort of dazed and confused, and eventually starting to sift through all of the toys.  But I was proud and happy that she was now set—famous last words until the next purchase.  

I have no idea why I thought this was necessary at her age, and actually at any age.  I think because it was Christmas, I wanted her to enjoy and have everything she could possibly want, because I loved her so much.  I always had wonderful Christmases, and wanted the same for her.  

Then I had grandchildren and was amazed how those little cherubs were delighted with a sensible amount of toys and items and not a whole truckload.  Imagine that.  They didn’t need or probably even knew they wanted any more.  

Toys are great, but as we all know, boxes rock.  I had a nephew who built trains, trucks, you name it, out of boxes.  I mean, good-sized items, and they were great and kept play time fun and exciting for a very long time.

I don’t know why I felt this was necessary to overindulge my children, and feel sorry for my poor husband, who would get one little present, like a compass, and a couple of pieces of clothing.  He must have felt that I went off the deep end, yes, once again.  So put your money back in your pocket and start slow.  Imagine your child getting used to the overindulgence and expecting all of that for the rest of their life.  

Fortunately, for me, this child of mine is the frugal one.  

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