Toys give way to student loan payments

For the first time in roughly 25 years, I didn't get a department-store Christmas toy catalog in the mail this year. I didn't even get a postcard reminding me to pick up a copy at the store.

This means one of two things: a) my kids really have grown up; or b) I do so little catalog shopping that I've finally been bumped from mailing lists. Actually, both are true.

There was a time when the Sears Wishbook was worn ragged at our house, pages marked and remarked. Favorite toys were circled and initialed, to keep track of which daughter wanted which toy.

This year my oldest daughter - the TV reporter in Oregon - wants two student-loan payments and a blender. Now there's some excitement for Christmas morning.

My youngest daughter - a teacher at the new Early Childhood Center at Flathead Valley Community College - wants practical stuff, too. She has her own home now, so things like pots and pans are valuable commodities.

While these kinds of gifts seem humdrum, I have to admire their practicality and would like to think I had a hand in shaping their frugal ways.

We were reminiscing not long ago about some of the Christmas gifts that flopped bigtime. I always made a point to include some educational toys along with the coveted Barbie dolls and latest My Little Pony plastic horses.

One year a rock-polishing kit was under the Christmas tree. It seemed like it had potential, but the polisher never really worked right and all we got out of it was frustration.

Then there was the telescope. That never worked right, either, and it's still sitting in a corner in the basement.

Toys invoke some pretty powerful memories, so I'll share this advice. Don't ever, ever, sell any of your children's old toys at a yard sale, even if they say it's OK. One day they'll regret the decision and blame you for getting rid of their childhood treasures.

I refer here to one motorized Disney train set that was very cool in its day. The girls played with that train set a lot, but when they'd outgrown it, they agreed to sell it at a yard sale for a couple of bucks.

"How could you have let us sell that?" they've since asked.

And if a plastic music box featuring a movable mother bear and baby bear ever breaks, don't inadvertently throw it out when you're packing boxes to move across the state. You'll never be forgiven. Believe me, I know.

My mother knew the value of saving things and I doubt she ever threw a thing out, even if it was beyond repair.

When I was home to Minnesota recently, I came across a box of old toys I'd long forgotten and was amazed to find my teddy bear. I had no idea the ragged thing still existed, but there it was in all of its frayed beauty.

Here's the difference between my generation and my children's generation. I had one, I repeat, one teddy bear while growing up. My daughters have boxes of discarded stuffed animals, and while two or three of them may be dear to them, most are not.

I came across a nearly complete set of Tinkertoys during that same search in one of my mother's many storage rooms, and found myself playing with the wooden spools and sticks, making a spinning top I used to make as a girl. There was a bag of Lincoln Logs, too, and remnants of my youngest brother's magic set. A bag of small olive-green plastic soldiers conjured up memories of my oldest brother staging full-scale wars on the linoleum living-room floor.

I'm guessing it will be a few years before I'll be buying toys for grandchildren, and since all my nephews are grown-up now, too, I'll have to be content for now with putting student-loan payments in fancy envelopes for Christmas morning.

Of course gift-giving shouldn't overshadow the real meaning of Christmas, but still, there's something special about opening a present and finding the one thing you've been longing for. It's then that we're children at heart.

Features editor Lynnette Hintze may be reached at 758-4421 or by e-mail at lhintze@dailyinterlake.com