Added July 22, 1999
Added May 30, 1999
The Premier Online
Magazine for Women
When my girls were small, I had a few, very strict, rules about what types of toys I would let them receive as gifts. I issued a list of these rules to every relative, friend, and grandparent who might possibly EVER send my child a gift.
"No small parts," read the first rule, written shortly after I stepped on my daughter's set of jacks in a dark hallway at 2 a.m. "But they were supposed to be land mines!" I later learned, as my oldest wailed her explanation. "Now, the Japanese Beetles are going to invade Pearl Jam Harbor!" Aha! I thought, re-enacting fictional historical naval battles - that breaks another rule. (See Rule 6 below.)
"No noisy toys," warned the second rule, written hastily as I rushed to confiscate my oldest daughter's toy xylophone, drum, and one-monkey band only milliseconds before her musical debut beneath the crib belonging to her sleeping baby sister, and about half a second after she discovered the principles and potency of feedback on her Mister Microphone.
Fortunately, the baby suffered no permanent hearing damage.
"No batteries," the third rule firmly stated. I added this one the year that I spent our entire future tax return and both Christmas bonuses on a Walgreen's "Buy-two-get-one-free" Energizer Bunny battery sale simply to animate the "living" Christmas stockings, the Super Mario Santa Hand-Held Interactive Game and Car Alarm, and the walking, talking, drinking, wetting, crying Twelve-Step Alf (alcohol not included) that one grandmother graciously provided for my children's yuletide amusement.
But I've matured over the years, and looking at these narrow-minded, self-serving rules now, I realize that these limitations exist solely for the convenience of the parent, and severely curtail the opportunity for the child to enjoy his or her childhood gifts. During the twelve years it took my daughter to complete junior college, I had a lot of time to think about this, and I am certain I will be more understanding, tolerant, and relaxed with my grandchildren.
As the birth of my first grandchild draws closer, my storage shed boasts more and more toys which are representative of my growing awareness that children must be free to explore and experience the world.
In response and to atone for Rule #12: "No chemistry sets or other exploding toys" I have gotten little Tipper the Arizona Militia's Fun with Fireworks Kit and Recreational Explosives Beginner's Set (ages 8 and up).
Just before my last bout of hypoglycemia, I purchased at auction a cargo container of Twinkies and Scooter Pies, candy canes, Bubblepops (breaking Rule #5 - No sticky food), Extra-Cinnamin Life Saver Gumdrops, and an entire case of Fluffernutter Extra-Smooth Peanut Butter and Extra Clumpy Marshmallow Sandwich Creme and Spackling Compound. (Ta-ta to Rule #7 - "No sugar" and Rule #8 - "No food by DuPont".)
To promote an early tolerance to sweet flavors, and boost the child's natural resistance to dried fruit and carob beans, I invested in a Kenner Kiddie Kotton Kandy machine. (Fulfilling a personal childhood fantasy; I really MUST buy one for Tipper!)
One corner of my garage/rumpus room boasts a carefully sorted and labeled miniature arsenal depicting the "Entire History of Armaments in the Western World: Volume 1, Alexander the Great to Attila the Hun." My grandchildren, at least, will not be deprived of the opportunity to express their natural aggression while learning history. (Making up for Rule #6 - no war toys.)
I'm attempting to encourage my daughter, too, to loosen up her views on child-rearing and toy control. To demonstrate my support in this matter, I had delivered to her house the finest, scrubbable, high-gloss, latex paint and wallpaper with built-in Binney & Smith color enhancers to promote the earliest possible expression of natural artistic talent. And, because I ordered before midnight tonight, I received at no extra charge the "Little Artists' Interior Design Fingerpaint Collection", a 3,000 color crayon set and sharpener, and a wonderful set of Ginsu knives (which I kept for the arsenal - and to make julienne fries.)
After all, the tender sensitivities of a budding artist cannot flourish in the kind of restrictive environment represented by Rule #11, "No paints, and no more crayons."
To assuage my guilt for being so restrictive with my oldest child while she was growing up, I also sent her my copy of "Washing With Crayons: How to Batik Fine Clothing in Your Washer & Dryer" to help her get in touch with her inner, creative, child.
I'm also considering getting little Tipper the Crayola In-Line Skates and the Fisher-Price Pop 'N' Paint Indoor Lawn and Rug Mower. I wonder if they make scrubbable vinyl indoor carpet?
And, if all else fails to prove my commitment to being a better grandparent
than I was a parent, I'll get Tipper a solar-powered go cart with backup
gasoline engine and ten 55-gallon drums of gas. That ought to keep him
busy until he, too, goes to junior college.
