Lifestyle
Every parent knows that welcoming kids into your life means inviting an avalanche of toys and clutter. The sheer volume of plastic knick-knacks, books, and games can feel like an episode of a reality show about hoarding, and I often find myself wondering where all this stuff comes from. Between the tiny pieces wedged into every corner of our home and the mountain of items that cover our tables and closets, I sometimes feel overwhelmed.
As a person who thrives in a tidy space, the chaos can trigger my anxiety. I often have to tiptoe around the house to avoid stepping on a rogue Lego or tripping over misplaced toys. That’s when I know it’s time for a serious toy decluttering session, which I do at least twice a year, if not more.
On designated purge days, I send the kids out while I dive into their toys. After a few hours of sorting, I separate items into three categories: toss, donate, or keep. Let me tell you, I’m ruthless. If a toy hasn’t seen action in the last few months, it’s usually out the door. I’ve never second-guessed a single item I’ve discarded. Surprisingly, many toys have barely been touched—sometimes only once.
Of course, there are a few treasured toys that hold special memories, and those are safe from my purge. However, most of the toys? They’re often just clutter that adds to our stress. For those that are still in decent condition but not used, I donate them to children who could benefit from them more than mine. As my kids have matured, they’ve begun to join in the donation process. There’s something impactful about directly contributing to libraries, donation centers, or toy drives—it teaches them that not everyone has the same abundance we do.
Once the toys are culled, it’s like a magic switch has flipped. Although my kids often claim they’re bored, they suddenly find new life in their play. With fewer distractions, they can actually see the toys worth engaging with. The house feels brighter, and they are calmer, less overwhelmed. The space fosters creativity and imagination, allowing them to explore their interests.
Of course, it also makes me happier in my clean, organized home. But the benefits extend to the whole family; we all experience reduced stress and a clearer mindset. By shedding excess possessions, we discover a new kind of abundance that truly enhances our joy.
I wish I could maintain this decluttered state year-round. Despite my best efforts to prevent new toys from entering our home, it’s a challenge when kids socialize and receive gifts. However, regular decluttering helps us remember which toys genuinely bring joy. It turns out that only a handful of toy categories are worth keeping: those linked to specific activities, open-ended imaginative toys (like our beloved dress-up box), good books, and games that everyone can enjoy without fierce competition.
Over time, I’ve improved at guiding gift-givers toward choosing toys that fit these criteria. I’ve also instilled in my kids the idea that experiences often hold more value than material possessions. As they’ve gotten older, they’ve embraced this perspective. I remain mindful when purchasing items for them between holidays, aiming for purposeful gifts that will genuinely engage them. It’s not a perfect system, but I strive for it.
Teaching children that “less is more” is one of the most valuable lessons we can impart. They need to understand that they don’t always need the latest, trendiest toy—often the biggest, clunkiest, and most expensive. What truly matters are the relationships they build and the intentions they set for their lives, not the stuff they accumulate.
Ultimately, the toys that remain should resonate with their interests and passions—what excites them, inspires them, and makes them happy. Anything else is simply excess, and clearing it out allows the entire family to breathe, relax, and focus on what truly matters.