|
|
T A B L E++T A L K Why do people get married, quickly have kids, then split up? Discuss disposable families in the Mothers area of Table Talk - - - - - - - - - - R E C E N T L Y The men's room Go with the flow Thanksgiving Turkey fry Faraway, so close BROWSE THE MOTHERS WHO THINK FEATURE ARCHIVES - - - - - - - - - - Mamafesto
- - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
Why do the toys I bought my kids to improve their hand-eye coordination and spatial dexterity just sit in the closet? BY ANNE MORROW SAMPSON | My husband and I try very hard not to spoil our kids. We rarely indulge them in unexpected new toys or goodies. No, sir. Christmas and birthdays, that's it. When they do receive a gift from us, you can be sure it's a well-thought-out, practical toy, with many educational values. No junk for our kids, by golly. Why, then, does my house look as if the Toy Fairy made an emergency crash landing and stayed for a few weeks? My kitchen drawers ooze Fisher Price people. My sofa cushions sprout loose helmets for little soldiers with movable joints. Tiny clothes for tiny dolls with not-so-tiny figures fill my daughter's dresser. (Her own clothes are under the bed where they belong, she assures me.) In short, we have bought tons of toys, most of them, to our credit, educational. We have building blocks for spatial dexterity, ball games for hand-eye coordination and a marble maze to demonstrate cause and effect. We have stuffed animals and puppets for emotional growth. We have dress-up clothes for acting out. And we have lots of books -- books about science to bring their minds alive, and a book bidding goodnight to the moon to put their minds at rest. So, our kids are happily building, learning and sharing their toys, right? Wrong. They are in the backyard, digging a hole. Not in the sandbox we spent countless hours building, mind you, but right out there in the grass. They are not using the cute little shovels I bought for them at the beach last summer. That would be too easy. They must use their bare hands. They are looking for clues, you see, to explain the mystery of How the Branch Fell out of the Tree in the Corner of the Yard Where No One Ever Goes. A shovel might destroy some important evidence, so they are up to their elbows in mud, happily digging holes and collecting clues that look an awful lot like common rocks to me. Watching their game, I thank heaven one more time that I talked my husband out of the very expensive child-size steam shovel he wanted to buy last Christmas. I wish we'd been as strong about the miniature soda shop. I should have known better than to even look twice at a box gaily advertising "more than 50 pieces inside!" Instead, I bought it. N E X T_ P A G E: The oldest Christmas trick in the 3-year-old's book - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |
Arts & Entertainment | Books | Comics | Life | News | People
Politics | Sex | Tech & Business | Audio
The Free Software Project | The Movie Page
Letters | Columnists | Salon Plus
Copyright © 2000 Salon.com All rights reserved.