What Toy Story 5 Reminded Me

I got to see Toy Story 5 yesterday, and my heart was full.  The moment the excitement started building around the movie, I knew I wanted to see it. Then you throw in the Taylor Swift connection, and, of course, it made the experience even better.

I'm in kind of a unique middle generation when it comes to the Toy Story franchise. The first movie came out the year I graduated from high school, so I didn't have young kids when it was released. But once Kole was old enough, you can bet we made sure he watched it.

Maybe it's because I grew up before technology became the center of childhood, but there is something incredibly nostalgic about toys. They represent so much more than something to play with—they hold memories, imagination, and moments that stay with us long after we've grown up.  As often happens when I sit down to write, I found myself reminiscing.  As parents, do you ever wonder if you got it right? Do you ever ask yourself, What will my kids remember?

Mom, this one is for you.

For all practical purposes, I was an only child. My parents gave me a childhood filled with love, experiences, and memories I still treasure today.  My mom will probably tell you about the year I desperately wanted a burger stand. It was my big Santa gift, and somehow I wandered in while my parents were putting it together in the middle of the night before Christmas. It was wonderful, complete with hamburgers, hot dogs, and buns.  But when I really think back on the toys that shaped my childhood, one stands out above all the others.  It wasn't the life-sized brown-haired doll that my mom lovingly sewed clothes for—although she was pretty special.

It was my Barbie house.

When someone says "Barbie house," most people picture a giant pink mansion. Mine wasn't anything like that.  My Barbie house was built from cardboard boxes.  As best as I can remember, I even helped build it. It had multiple levels. My parents lined the walls with contact paper to create wallpaper and used leftover carpet samples for flooring—each room a different color. If I'm being honest, there was probably even some genuine shag carpet in there.  I absolutely loved that Barbie house.  Even now, I can close my eyes and picture every level. I can still see myself sitting on the floor, moving my dolls from room to room, creating stories for hours.  It was simple. It was probably inexpensive.  But it was mine.  No one else had one like it. It was original, creative, and built with love. Looking back now, I realize it wasn't really about the Barbie house at all. It was about parents who invested their time and imagination into creating something just for me.  That is the part I remember.

It reminds me that childhood happiness isn't about having the newest toy or the latest gaming system. It's about homemade teepees in the living room. It's about sitting around the table playing Skip-Bo as a family. It's about Legos scattered across the floor and endless games of "Batter, Batter, Baseball" with Kole (we'll save that story for another blog).  Those are the moments that become lifelong memories.

I hope we never reach a point where toys disappear from childhood. Even as an adult, I still find myself wandering down the toy aisle with a smile. And thankfully, as a therapist, I still get to experience the magic of play every day.  One of the things I appreciated most about Toy Story 5 is that it acknowledges technology has a place in our lives. Technology isn't the enemy.  But it should never replace imagination.  Children still need opportunities to create, pretend, build, explore, and simply play. They need limits with technology and space for creativity to flourish.  Because long after the newest device is forgotten, they may just remember the cardboard Barbie house someone built with love.