When we packed for our trip, we tried to be incredibly reasonable with what we thought we’d need, use and be able to get when we were there. Both Barry and I felt very strongly that we didn’t want to be in charge of any toys that we’d be devastated if we lost, so we negotiated with Maggie to leave New Baby at home and agreed that we’d keep our eye out for something new when we settled in New Zealand.
I was fully prepared to scout out some great toys and find trinkets or tokens that’d become our New Zealand things. I had dreams of finding something made 100% in NZ. We packed a few toys from home to distract the girls on the airplane, two tiny dolls given to us by my aunt, and a few books. That was it.
At first everything was new when we arrived and even the suitcases were exciting to lug around and then our daily routine of going to the beach arrived, but we still held off on even buying beach toys because we knew we had to hop on a final plane to get to the South Island and our room was precious.
When we arrived on the farm on the South Island, we settled into another way of living, observing and spending our time. The books that we’d packed, and the few we’d picked up at the second-hand store, were used often, but the ‘toys’ really stayed packed away. Not intentionally, but there wasn’t an interest in them from anybody.
It was strange to watch, mostly in the way that I realized how little we need to be entertained, to dream up a story that can entertain for hours. At one point we’d been reloaded with firewood from our hosts and the large bin provided endless hours of play.
After we’d left the farm, and drove the 9 hours to our final 10 day stay, we found a toy store and bought some beach toys, including a super fancy shovel. Somehow we avoided picking up any other toys. Every time we’d head to the beach, which was daily, we’d haul the bag of plastic toys along with us….it shouldn’t have surprised us that majority of the time those toys got dumped out and left while the girls found sticks, shells, or even our coffee cups to play with instead.
I’m not anti toy, but I think I’m anti over-consumerism and the idea that something has to entertain us, or be the reason for us to enjoy life. When we got home, back to the United States, each of our kids ran to their favorite toys, including New Baby and the most ridiculous huge stuffed Pug that I’ve tried to donate countless times, and they have hardly been away from them since. Most of the other toys have largely been ignored.
We ended up bringing home the fancy shovel and a tiny watering can, both probably made in China, from New Zealand. Not a wool Waldorf doll or knit sweater, nothing that I had thought would be a ‘perfect’ token to remember our time.
I’ve decided that maybe bringing nothing home is better than bringing something home because what that ‘nothing’ is, is actually feeling of being connected and content with what we already have. Peacefulness, mindfulness, happiness.
