The Toy Keeper

About a year ago I read a article in a Parents magazine about a dictionary of words that only parents would understand. A word that stuck with me and I use it quite frequently now, is Toyphoon.
Toy-ph-oon- a monsoon of toys that takes over a room, floor or entire house.
Now as a parent when I take photos of my kid, I find myself strategically moving the camera or shifting that toy to another home on the floor, so that in the background the toyphoon is hidden. Lets face it every time I think about putting away the toys in their assigned spot, Autumn comes up from behind like a ninja that was hidden in my shadow, grabs the toy, and acts like it is the coolest thing ever. But this toy is never cool until I pick it up. It can lay there for days untouched as just another victim in the toyphoon.

 

This is one of those unrealistic photos I am talking about. Now I have accepted the toy takeover by introducing a large pink cottage into my living room because lets face it for the next couple of years these toys are not going anywhere. They have become in their own way those plastic relatives that you just can't throw out.

This is a more realistic view of what my living room looks like on a daily basis.
Now not only am I always in a constant battle of picking up toys. I also can never seem to keep all the little pieces together. Why does everything have to have so many parts? From the pink fisher price elephants colorful balls, that Autumn just likes to carry around everywhere, to the little baby Einstein cardboard books, things just get lost in this toyphoon. I find my self every couple of weeks just doing a pick up of toys just to make sure all the pieces are still somewhere within our house.

 So my new attempt to keep track of these toys. Certain ones stay in certain rooms. This does not always work though because I am not the only one that watches Autumn, therefore when she takes that plastic dog figure to the kitchen it may find a permanent home up there for awhile.

Not one room is left unmarked by the Autumn trail of plastic. I could spend every night and every nap she has picking it up and being the perfect mom but life is way too short to be picking up toys all day. Lets face it, I need my mom alone time for my own personal mental health.

That is not a dog turd by her foot yet a plastic Little People Ape who actually has gotten lost in the dining room. He will probably return to the other zoo creatures next week when I yet again put all the Nib toys back with the rest of their plastic friends.  These toys create more mess, however the smiles they produce are priceless.