I growl at it when I walk past it.
I despise it even more than the washing baskets that sit on my dining room table, clothes yet to be folded and put away (One day, one day!).
I resent my husband for not feeling the need to tackle it. For not even seeing the problem or being agitated by it, like I am.
I’m talking about my kids’ toy box.
The toy box. The bloody toy box – which may also be baskets or whatever ‘genius’ toy storage solution you’ve come up with in your home.
Here are all the reasons I despise mine. Are you feeling me?
1. The toys are taking over
The toy box isn’t just a box. It’s intended as a storage ‘solution’ but mine is at capacity. More than at capacity.
In fact, the toys are taking over. They spill out from it and all over the house. When I try to put them away, there simply isn’t enough space for them.
But extra toy storage isn’t the answer, I know. More storage just means more stuff.
So I need to reduce. But that’s easier said than done.
2. Christmas hasn’t helped
Christmas was lovely. The family showered the kids in love … and gifts. But all those extra toys are now homeless. The toy box is full.
They are squatting all over our house, which is the kids’ house too and toys are part of it, but it’s getting crazy.
Action needs to be taken.
3. But I feel like a lone solider
My family don’t seem to care about the fact that our house is being overpopulated by TOYS. As such, I feel alone in my need to do something about it.
I know this mammoth task falls on my shoulders, or my husband’s as well if I get my cranky-pants on and nag him to help me.
It should fall on our kids too, but let’s be honest. The only time to cull the toy box is when they are not around, lest they see that baby shape toy they haven’t played with in years and suddenly think it is the best thing ever, never to be thrown out.
Which leads me to the next point.
4. It’s near impossible to tackle
If I can’t tackle the task when the kids are around, there are few opportunities to do so.
The last thing I feel like doing when they are finally asleep, is going through the toy box for old once-loved toys to pass on.
Which means toy box culls need to be planned for, and executed with precise military precision, in secret.
For me, this might happen when their dad takes them out for an hour or so on the weekend. But if so, I sure as hell can’t have any donation boxes lying around the house when they get back!
The mission must be carried out in full, without anyone begging me to keep anything.
5. It’s a huge environmental sin
There is SO much plastic sitting in that box. Plastic bits that are missing sets and therefore can’t be donated to the boys’ kindy or a friend with younger kids.
Plastic that may not be able to be recycled, because it isn’t the right kind and so is destined to end up in landfill.
6. It keeps growing
If I do manage to donate a few toys to the Salvos, inevitably they quickly get replaced. I don’t know how this happens when the toy isn’t even birthday-related, but somehow random toys make their home in the box where others have been kicked out.
The toy box is the never-ending story, and one that I despise.
Still, I will wage war on it until my kids decide phones are more interesting than playing with DUPLO and building train tracks.