A little rant about toys
We recently achieved a new level of parenthood: We aquired a set of blocks. I LOVE THESE MOTHERFUCKING BLOCKS. My father in law gave us the uppercase set, and we dug them so much we checked to see what else they had, and discovered they have a lowercase set, and the animals on the lowercase set are BABY VERSIONS of the uppercase set, and they did it up RIGHT, so that frog –> tadpole (and not some “baby frog” bullshit) and butterfly –> caterpillar, and…
|If you’re insane, you can buy the periodic table set and start your baby nice and early. Me, I plan to get the Russian ones next.|
The texturey faces are perfect for chewing on, and Bun Bun can play with them forever.
Which is helpful, because Bun Bun’s world is a bit toy-deprived. I mean, she has a whole basket of toys, but a lot of them are wooden, and only a few make noise. Every two weeks or so, I freak out about this, fearful that not surrounding her with blinking, squeaking, talking plastic objects will means she’ll never learn to solve differential equations. And then I watch her play with the grain of the wood floor for an hour and feel better.
Maybe it’s because I grew up playing with rocks and sticks, or because I read the Little House books too many times, or because I’m fearful of what we’re doing to our children with that there modern‘ livin‘, but I keep gravitating towards boring wooden toys and not too many of them, at that.
|Save me from the boring wooden toys, internet people.|
I remind myself that people grew up smart before Fisher Price, and that she’s fine, and then a few weeks later it happens again.
And then it slowly began to dawn on me… There are people making a living by creating and then profiting from this kind of insecurity. There are people trying to convince me that my child needs this or that, and if I don’t buy it for her, she will be stupid or unprepared or somehow at a disadvantage. Don’t get me wrong–I’m not normally a crazy tinfoil hat person who sees conspiracies everywhere, and I am certainly not suggesting that I am somehow GOOD for not buying the latest gadget and anyone else is BAD for buying it. But it seems to me like you should buy a toy because you find it cool and fun and believe it will lead to endless hours of enjoyable interaction (or endless hours of your baby out of your hair so you can bathe), not because the box tells you your baby won’t learn to walk or count or whatever without it.
So here’s my plan. The next time I find myself feeling bad because Bun Bun doesn’t have a Fisher Price TeethingMathCrawlSortTieShoes MegaPlayCastle, I’ll just quietly mutter: FUCK YOU, capitalism.