Upon turning 3 years old, my son has blissfully turned my living room into a fully decked-out, preschooler-boy’s dream pad. The place is spilling over with new birthday toys.
Robots, cars sets, pirate sets, train tracks, Lego sets, Buzz Lightyear action figures, and so much more.
And just to make things worse, we’re having a 5 year old birthday party for my older boy in a few weeks. I’m shuddering at the thought of all the toys at the end of the day.
So a few days ago, I told my boys that we were going to have a TOY CLEAN UP DAY. We would sort through the toys, clean them up, and donate some to charity – to kids who can’t afford to have ANY toys.
They seemed to be quite happy with that idea.
So we cracked open the old toy box.
One by one, we pulled out the forgotten, dusty, old toys. All the old favourites! There were pop up toys. Chunky trains. Wire bead things. A xylophone. Wooden cups. Coloured cups. Squeaky toys. Shakers. Rattles.
They were actually in great condition! A bit of polish and they’d be as good as new!
But it struck me that these toys were baby toys.
And aren’t we trying to have another baby? What’s Baby 3 going to play with?
I part of me desperately wants to get rid of all these baby toys. Cleanse the house of unwanted junk. Move on. Free up some space.
But part of me wants to be fair. If my first two boys had age appropriate toys, then why can’t Baby 3 have them too?
So the boxes of baby toys stay.
Waiting to be opened. Hopefully soon.
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