This week, my mailbox overflowed with holiday toy catalogs, arriving just in time for my kids to dive into them. In years past, they’d snuggle next to me, tiny hands gripping black markers, circling everything they desired or cutting out pictures of the toys that would fill their letters to Santa. But this year? There are no little ones here anymore, and those glossy catalogs filled with remote control cars, superhero action figures, and plush toys will be heading straight to the recycling bin, never to experience another sugarplum dream. Sigh.
My children have officially outgrown the toy catalogs, and I can’t say I’m thrilled about it. The days of playing Santa Claus are behind me, and the endless toy shopping has come to a screeching halt, faster than Comet and Blitzen on Christmas Eve. To cope with this shift in our holiday reality, I might need a little spiked eggnog or, better yet, a grandchild. Either would do!
Now their Christmas lists are filled with items that can’t be found at your typical toy store. Instead of rushing to snag the latest Lego set or scooter, I’ll be making a trek to the outdoor sports store, searching for a cooler named something like “Bigfoot” that claims to keep ice frozen for months. Who in their right mind goes camping for that long? Then it’s off to the drugstore for male grooming products—the variety of AXE body sprays makes me question how many scents a teenager really needs. I even suggested upgrading their old gaming system, only to receive a nonchalant, “Nah, we’re good. We don’t want to relearn everything.” What?!
While I know I should be relieved they’re not glued to video games anymore, it’s a stark reminder that my little boys are growing up, and their Minecraft adventures just don’t hold the same allure. I want to shout, “Stay young and keep playing because reality is a drag! Minecraft forever!”
Admittedly, a small part of me is relieved to bid farewell to the Christmas Eve toy assembly marathons and the frantic AAA battery runs. I won’t miss the incessant beeping and chaos of colorful plastic toys or the endless search for lost game pieces.
However, I will miss the pure joy on their faces as they burst into the living room on Christmas morning, eager to see what Santa left behind. I’ll miss the thrill of watching them rip through wrapping paper, their eyes gleaming with disbelief, wondering how Santa knew just what they wanted. I’ll miss the festive playtime that lasted all day, including trips to Grandma’s with their new toys in tow, ready to share the joy with cousins.
Yet, there are perks to this new stage of holiday life. No more being jolted awake at 4:30 a.m. by overly excited kids, and having teens who can drive means I can delegate holiday errands while handing over my debit card with a casual, “Just buy something nice for your dad and brothers, okay?” The pace of the season feels a bit slower and more serene without the constant question of “How many days ‘til Santa?”
I’m embracing these quieter years with tweens and teens, filled stockings with cash, and gifting “family experiences” instead of traditional toys. I won’t feel guilty about enjoying a more relaxed Christmas. I know it won’t be long before toy mania returns—my future grandchildren won’t know what hit them.
For more insights on family experiences during the holidays, check out this post on home insemination kits. If you’re interested in the journey of pregnancy, this resource on pregnancy is excellent. And for those looking to explore at-home insemination options, you can find an authority on the topic at Cryobaby’s at-home insemination kit.
Summary
The joy of Christmas changes as children grow up. Instead of toy catalogs and early morning excitement, parents face a new reality of older kids, who have different interests and gift preferences. While there are perks to this shift, such as more peaceful mornings and the ability to delegate holiday tasks, parents will inevitably miss the joy and chaos that comes with younger children during the holidays.