A pogo stick sits behind the door of my daughter’s bedroom. I purchased it as a gift for the holidays with the optimism that she would spend lots of time bouncing up and down in giddy laughter. Now, months later, my hopes have faded.
Buying toys for kids today is a complex affair. As a dad, I seek out toys that afford fun and keep my child engaged for a length of time at least comparable to what I spent on the toy. I also want to believe that, if toys are recommended for ages 5 and up, that we will get the “and up” part, and my daughter will want to play with the toy for longer than the time it takes to open the packaging. As a result, we store a lot of toys and my daughter cycles through a narrow band of all the toys she has. Of course, when my wife and I attempt to move the toys my daughter has outgrown into the donation box, each neglected toy becomes precious.
I am regularly amazed by what my daughter does play with. Lately, she has been playing with a large computer box someone gave my wife because he thought my daughter would like to color it. Color it, she did. Ornate renderings of figures, rainbows, flowers, hearts, names, and various letters appeared in a variety of media. And then, she wanted to play “package” where we pretend the box gets delivered with her inside and later she bounces out as we open the surprise package. The box also became an enchanted castle protected by magical unicorns from whom we needed to ask permission to cross the living room. The box became a coffee shop that produced an array of odd-flavored teas, coffees, and smoothies that we had to order and later retrieve when she called our names. I mentioned this was a box we got for free, right?
It is also surprising to see which toys become a focus of energy. If your kid is like mine, then you have a “collector” of sorts. “Collector” is a term we use loosely because these are not usual collectibles but rather the assorted rock and shells and giveaway trinkets from community events. Early on, we decided that these rocks and shells needed a good storage place outside the house—so we established a “rock box” for all she collects to reside just by the doorstep. Given her interest, we thought she might like a rock tumbler. In case you are unfamiliar, this is a little machine that sort of looks like a mini-cement mixer in which you throw some rocks, some special sand, and water and leave it on for days and days, 24/7. After a couple of weeks, you empty the grit and add coarser sand to polish the rocks more. In our initial batch, our daughter was thrilled with the results and was excited to glue one of her gems to a metal ring setting that came with the kit. She then spent time hunting for the prettiest rocks to add to the next batch. Her patience and focus with the process are in contrast to her typical pattern. But, it’s a win for us, the parents.
A lot of the times, if you’re like me, you see toys and think, “I’d like to play with that,” which then fuels your purchase. This brings me back to the pogo stick. I never had a pogo stick as a child, which may be why the pogo stick seemed like a good purchase for my daughter. When she first got it, I coached her, but she became disheartened when she did not master it right away. Instead, I should have realized that she is far more social and wants activities that require interaction or opportunities to pretend. Or, even better, I should play with her more using her toys and games that require more than one person to maximize the fun. It will help me tune in more to who she is when she plays. It has taken me a while to learn that it is less about the toy and more about the experience she has with me.
Robert (Rob) S. Weisskirch, MSW, Ph.D., CFLE is a Professor of Human Development at California State University, Monterey Bay and is a Certified Family Life Educator. He and his wife are parents to a chatty 5-year-old daughter and reside in Marina.