I ran to Target last week with a shopping list of birthday party supplies and a reminder from Brett to pick out a “cool present” for Dash–a task that is not difficult because Dash thinks a lot of things are cool. I started in produce and strategically mapped out my aisle course, saving the toy aisles for the end–even if the milk warmed–because toy aisles are the best aisles, and I save the best for last. As I rounded my cart into the first aisle of the toy section and pushed it slowly past shelves of Hot Wheels and packages of bright orange tracks that promise roller coaster thrills, I felt a hint of the nostalgic ache I know I will soon feel when the delight of Hot Wheels has faded and is replaced with–what, new computer speakers? How lovely. This “future nostalgic ache” isn’t so much a sinking feeling as it is a subtle awareness. I know the dangers of mourning the loss of something while it’s still wonderfully present, yet I cannot help but be very aware–especially after experiencing the speed in which one child has already graduated through all the toy thrill stages and is now holding steady at Clothes-are-Everything–that we are past Intermission in the great production of Our Life in the Toy Aisles that has played in our family for years.
There’s a Hotline for Future Nostalgic Ache, and it’s called Heidi’s phone. So I call her, from two toy aisles over where I park my cart between pets that “come to life” at any sign of motion. When she answers, I practically yell to be heard over the uproar of animatronic dog barking. Let’s just state for the record that there are some toys that do not delight.
Heidi answers.
“I’m in the toy aisles at Target picking out a present for Dash and it just hit me–I don’t get much longer of this, do I?”
“I know. It’s horrible,” she says, attempting to console and failing miserably. In fact, when it comes to mourning our kids getting older, I don’t even know why we call each other. We provide nothing but an invitation to a deeper level of festering sentimentality. We are pigs in our own wistful filth.
“I’m going to miss toys so much,” I say. “I’m going to miss seeing my kids bolt from the cart, breathless with anticipation to get to these aisles.”
“Isn’t it awful?” Heidi says. “One day they’re brushing their doll’s hair. The next day they’re slamming doors in your face. It sucks.” Ladies and Gentlemen, Heidi and I are taking our “POSITIVITY IN PARENTING: How to Healthily Embrace Your Children Growing Up” Show on the road, book tickets now!
And yes–I know every stage is wonderful, Brenda. I feel that. Sharing love with Lainey for checkered Vans and finding the perfect pink lip gloss at Sephora is a new joy in parenting that is wonderful in its own way. Having conversations together about big life things and watching her discover passions and interests beyond the world of childhood? It’s all so good. But it’s still paired with the recognition that these new interests are replacing the loss of something else–something magical that has lived in our home for a long time, and I just want to take a moment to declare my love for it while it’s still here–an ode to toys, if you will.
The happiness these toys bring to our bedrooms with their colors lined up on our shelves–bright green garbage trucks, red fire engines, a Tonka truck as yellow as the sun. Bins of Barbies, Legos, blocks, little animals with names and faces known by all three. The constant invitation to step out of character, use a different voice, try new sounds–a police car siren “woo-oo,” a high-pitched Barbie conversation–“Hey Kiki, do you want to go to Target?”, a growl from a fierce dinosaur who runs into the block tower and knocks it down with a crash…the uninhibited laughter that follows.
The baskets of little toys, collections, tiny treasures that fit in tins. A few always escape and end up in far corners of the house where I find them in a frantic cleaning blitz, frustrated for a moment with their existence but not really. I’ve loved the Shopkins and puzzle erasers and popsicle plastic necklace charms. I hope to be finding them at the bottom of backpacks for years to come.
There’s freedom and innocence and a world of imagination without limits and rules or embarrassment behind these toys, This is what I want to last forever. There’s joy in that freedom of expression.
And then there are the favorites–the most cherished toys that have won the prize of longest lasting thrill and truest companions. They’re personified to us–as real as Christopher Robin’s friends or Andy and Jessie in Toy Story 2 where surely the intent was announced among the Pixar script writers: “Moms–let’s get in ’em in the jugular.” This scene had me in a full-on stomach jerk cry in the middle of the theater, and I have never looked at Lainey’s beloved Gagoo the same since.
These favorites are members of our family. They’ve earned their place, sitting at the dinner table with us, being tucked in sleepover bags and brought on road trips and plane trips and travels to our most favorite places. They show up in pictures of our life’s most memorable moments. Their names are known by friends and family members. Love has breathed life into them, and yet I know…it won’t last forever.
As childhood fades, so will they. And I just want to say that I will miss them when they are tucked in boxes or tossed in baskets, their lively presence slowly fading, perhaps without us even noticing until it’s been too long.
While they’re still here with life breathed in them, I want them to know…I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for your service and companionship.
Clothes and nail polish and computer speakers might gradually take over where you were once displayed, but just know, we loved you first and best, Toys.
Beth S says
Oh, thank you for this. Thankfully “Adult Fans of Legos” is a Thing. And yes, that Toy Story clip is priceless.
Jules says
I have 4 adult children who each get a new LEGO every year for Christmas. I have huge Rubbermaid bins in my garage labeled: Dolls, Kitchen Toys, Legos with instructions, Legos without instructions, Barbies, Kids Books, Beanie Babies. Get rid of them? NEVER!
Susan says
I don’t miss the toys but I definitely miss the picture books. My sons are long-grown but I have trouble passing the picture book aisle of any store. They loved books and I still have a sense of which ones each would like. I now (occasionally) buy a book to put away for the grandchildren I don’t have yet!
Laura says
I never ever ever thought I’d miss the “plastic junk”. However, it hits me now every year, usually around Black Friday, that I really really want to buy the giant Imaginext castle/fort/whatever and I NEED to purchase a ton of little “guys” that can be carried around in tiny hands. The only cure I’ve found for this came in the form of a beautiful little granddaughter who now toddles with Little People clutched in both hands and before much longer will delight in the smell and sights of American Girl.
Molly says
Oh man, now I’m crying but fittingly, I’m surrounded by matchbox cars at the moment! ???
jennifer Reil says
I have always loved toys! The memories of my childhood toys (Strawberry Shortcake, Shannon Rory- my first Cabbage Patch Kid) will always hold a place in my heart.
When Toy Story 3 came out, my oldest kids were 8, now they’ll be 17 next week. I bawled my eyes out during that movie, and I’m sitting here crying because I wish time could slow down for a bit instead of flashing by. I want my kids to grow up and live wonderful lives. However, I also kind of wish that we could be stuck in “Groudhog Day” where we live forever as the current ages we are. Does anyone else ever wish that?
On the other hand, I have already picked out a few toys that will be saved for the grandkids to play with some day :).
Jill says
My 14 year old still secretly plays with Barbies. She’d die if any of her friends found out but i LOVE it! Last toy standing in our house and it makes me SO sad that this time of life is almost over. Enter my very first grandbaby Rooney, and all my kids old toys are back out. My heart! ☺️
Kelle says
This is where little siblings come in handy. You get to play with toys longer under the disguise of doing it “for them.” 🙂
Denise Reed-Greiner says
I don’t have children of my own but have taught first grade for 30 years. I loved this post, it got me in the gut. I love toys and have watched countless boys and girls grow out of the beloved toy stage and into the speaker/computer/lip gloss stage. It pulls at your heart strings but I think you said it best,”Clothes and nail polish and computer speakers might gradually take over where you were once displayed, but just know, we loved you first and best, Toys.” By the way, I have a full collection of American Girl Dolls and my husband has Legos!
Crystal says
Our oldest had a stuffed lizard he practically worshipped for years. On a cross-continent move, it got lost, and he’s never been the same since. 🙁
Kelle says
That’s so sad! We had a back-up puppy for Lainey for a while but ended up giving away to someone who reached out to us who lost their puppy JUST like Lainey’s. I know how devastating it can be for kids!
Dani says
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Kelsey says
I feel a famous Kelle list in the works… “Toys That Stand the Test of Time”. As a mama in the thick of toddler-dom I would love to know the toys you loved the best!
Julie Sunderlin says
I sooooo feel every word you wrote in this post! As a new grandma my heart melted when my daughter in law lovingly displayed my son’s BooBoo Bear and her equally loved childhood bunny on a shelf in their daughter’s nursery. Tears were cried and we can’t wait to share this journey as GRANDparents!
Karen says
I have a 31 yr old daughter and I still have a box in the attic with Barney, Littlest Pet Shop, Polly Pocket. As much as they meant to her, they meant so much to all of us. I have a 20 yr old son who also has a box in the attic filled with his favorite Teletubbie (the green one), Legos, Thomas the Tank. I just can’t let them go. I’m a nearly 56 year old sentimental fool when it comes to what my brothers refer to as “mommy toes” – instead of mementos. LOL One day when I am dead and gone I hope they find those boxes filled with toys and school papers and remember – like I do – when they were not so little.
Renee Southern Gal says
Never, ever take your 8-year-old son along with your 18 year-old son to the movies to see Toy Story 3 after having taken the 18-year-old to see the other Toy Story movies when he was the youngest son’s age. Did I confuse you? Anyway, my husband and I sat with the two boys between us and kept glancing at each other and wiping the tears from our faces. And now there will be a Toy Story 4??? I don’t think I can take it because now that 8-year-old just turned 17. At least I have grandchildren now who are 8, 6, 4, and 1. Give me all the toys!!
Jesseybell says
I hear you! My youngest is turning double-digits in a couple of weeks. This is the first yeast there will be no Legos at the birthday table. The kids (the other is 7th grade going on 21) are talking about redoing their rooms next year in preparation for high school and middle school – not ready! And the American Gitl store in MA is closing – while the 12 year old has been over American Girl for a few years it breaks my heart 🙁
Judy says
Two Buzz, one Woody and one googly-eyed Jesse (who nobody really loved that much, but me, because of those crazy eyes) with a cockeyed red cowgirl hat stare down at me from the upper shelf of my husband’s closet. Each time I see them, I quietly whisper, “Don’t worry guys, you’re not going anywhere.”
Nancy says
I still carry around a Polly pocket in my purse, named Coal Miner Polly. She gamely entertained my own kids, my nieces and nephews for years and I can’t bear to leave her out when I change purses. My confession, my kids are 20, 20, and 14!!
carole kingq says
My sister has her son’s legos and he’s 36. My son is 17 and there are bins of legos in the garage. And a couple of Little People sets that I just love. I will always treasure our time making the sets and then taking them apart to make whatever we could challenge each other to make. And I still have my “beautiful Chrissy” who’s hair “grows” when you push her belly button and gets shorter again when you move the dial on her back. Toys are so much fun and I’m willing to bet those legos will come back out someday, just for fun.
Melanie Quinn Campbell says
Oh my gosh, Kelle, you got it exactly right! Thank you for this. My daughter is 8, and i am hyper-aware of her shrinking amount of time with toys and the world of pretend. I bought us Hazel Village animals for Christmas, and we’ve been playing with them, having little parties, and taking them to forest school in the backyard. It is fun and it is bittersweet at the same time. My daughter is in the “in-betweens”. She likes toys and make-up and has crushes on boys at school. I really appreciate reading your posts, it makes me feel less alone in my mom angst. Thank you.
jess says
Toy Story 2 came out just as I left for college. My mom confided in me later that when my dad (my buddy- especially in autumn soccer season) missed me, he’d listen to “When She Loved Me” and just cry.
I still can’t even THINK of that song now without bawling. So yea. Crying at work. THANKS.
Kelle says
YOU’RE KILLING ME, SMALLS! Oh. Dads and daughters, man.
Kaydee says
Well now I’m crying and my oldest is only 2! What a great reminder that this tiny littles in diapers stage is fleeting, BUT ALSO APPARENTLY SO IS THE REST OF CHILDHOOD! WHYYYYYYYYYY?!??
Sandy says
My son is now 36 and I still get teary eyed remembering his love of everything to do with Ninja Turtles. I still have his first pair of baby shoes but am upset I never saved Leonardo, Raphael or Shredder. It was such a magical time and it all just passed in the blink of an eye…sniff, sniff.
mommaof5 says
Love this post! So true! I have two sons who were born with Down syndrome, and so I do feel like (As their minds stay young/innocent) we will get the toys stage longer in our household. But that all depends on how well their mind comprehends things or how old of an age their brain matures to…So maybe your Nella will be visiting the American Girl doll store at 16 years old and loving it 😉 I myself am an AG lover, I was as a child to, so I think that would be so fantastic!
PS- My oldest son w/ DS was born not too long after your Nella. I read your book and told my husband our first daughter will be Nella…and she is 😉 Just love the name!
Danielle Mecca says
I couldn’t even read about Toy Story in your post without tearing up. This is all so true.
Becky says
Oh my gosh. Never commented before, but this one got me.
My son had a severe auditory delay and didn’t talk. His speech pathologist used action figures. It was HeMan/SheRa. I became MomRa, the Most Powerful Mother in the Universe. He’s 37 now…still calls me MomRa. Thanks for the sweet cry.
Joy says
As I hold on tightly to my sweet newborn baby, future nostalgic ache is hitting me hard. This is my second (and last) baby. After the first go around, I realize more fully now how quickly this squishy newborn will be 2, then 8, then 16….cue the tears. Hormones. Haha! Love this post, you always say it so well.
Jen says
This is such a sweet post! I haven’t had a nostalgic view of all their toys but as my littles turn into bigs, nostalgia is kicking in! Love your voice and perspective.
Katie Alexander says
My oldest daughter, who is now 14, has a stuffed hammerhead shark she got at our local aquarium when she was 5. She named him Hammy and Hammy has been everywhere with our family. Trips. sleep-away camps, friends’ houses, etc. He used to constantly try to annoy me by pledging is undying love for me even offering his fin in marriage several times. That shark was a thorn in my side for years 🙂 He still resides in his place on my daughter’s bed but has ceased his talking and traveling about. I miss him terribly but mostly I miss that stage of my daughter’s life. Those were the sweet years for sure!
Mindy says
Thank you so much for writing this beautiful post. This exact sentiment is in the blog I keep writing in my head. The voices, the creativity, the imagination…you are right about all of it. My son used to intricately line up every single car and vehicle in our house, every morning. He is now almost 8 years old and a few weeks ago I had him do it for old times sake:) When parents talk about how they are on the “no presents at Christmas” bandwagon, my heart hurts! Of course there is junk, or course there are messes, of course its clutter…but as you said, some of that clutter turns into years and years and years of memories. Cheers to the toys!