Minimalist parenting toys: doing so much more with less

Minimalist parenting toys can go a long way towards keeping clutter at bay.

TLDR A few thoughts on toys, simplicity, and the toys we don't buy, why I care more about what my kids own than what they open.

9 minute read

December edges closer, and the house hums with quiet anticipation. The boys huddle over dog eared toy catalogues, circling pictures, making lists, whispering to each other like co conspirators. I listen on paying attention to specific names and lego codes, half smiling, half calculating the incoming tide. The season of giving is also, inevitably, the season of managing. I love their excitement, but I'm also equally wondering, how do we make space not just for new things, but for the right things?

I want my kids to be thrilled by what they already own, not only by what they unwrap. The older I get, the more that idea feels like a kind of touchstone for thinking about 'enoughness'. I once read a short poem about the writer Joseph Heller, author of Catch 22. When asked how it felt knowing a hedge fund manager made more money in a single day than Heller had earned from his famous book, he replied, “I have something he will never have... enough.” That line stuck with me. You can read the full poem here.

After nearly eight years of parenting and my work designing products for Studio Huske, I have started to see the same lesson everywhere. My social feeds are crowded with best toy lists, shopping guides, affiliate links, and promises of endless Christmas joy and entertainment wrapped in brown cardboard. The noise is constant. But it doesn't ring true. I'm not convinced and ultimately I know I just want the kind of home that resets easily, where things are tools for play, not burdens to manage.

In short, I'm encouraging a counterbalance to widespread overconsumption. Anecdotally it feels like older generations have an underlying fear of not seeming generous enough, and on both sides communication is tough. Lots of gift givers seem to give on the basis of enjoying a child's reaction, even if the aftermath isn't ideal for parents. And meanwhile it's the most expensive time of parents life. Knowing our own personal values and approach and being able to communicate it respectfully it the best we can do. Even if it only works some of the time that's already a start.

Simplicity shapes the way we live

I have a creative mind that rarely stops moving. It is good for design, less so for executive function. I'm distracted, jumping from one idea and thought to another. All the more so since becoming a parent and business owner. My kids share the same restless streak. Because of that, I need structure that steadies, not stifles. A home that limits choices instead of multiplying them.

Plus I'm so sensitive to space, to light, to noise. It is part of why I became an architect. That same sensitivity means I feel the pull of overstimulation everywhere. Simple, open ended play is an antidote. It slows us down, invites calm back into the room, and helps us reset and regulate together.

Eight types of toys I do not buy anymore

1. Overly specific toys: The narrower the use, the shorter the joy. I look for toys that stretch and evolve, pieces that grow with the child. The same principle guides my design work at Studio Huske, make things forgiving, adaptable, and able to live many lives. Tell me about your most tried and tested old school faves and you can skip on the viral sensations.
2. Bath toys that trap water: Anyone who has ever sniffed a bath toy knows. Mould, mystery smells, impossible corners. We skip them and bring Duplo, Schleich animals, or Playmobil boats without sails. No paper, no batteries. Everything drains, dries, and lasts.
3. Impulse buys: We still visit toy shops, but for exploration, not to purchase. We take photos to upload to an album, talk about what we see, then leave empty handed and content. Sometimes we plan a visit and buy one thing, discussed in advance. That boundary makes the experience feel intentional. The same goes for fairs and markets and kids theatre shows. We eat, we enjoy, we move on.
4. Battery operated show me toys: If a toy needs a demonstration, it is already doing the thinking for them. Last Christmas my eldest son longed for a remote control car. I researched, compared, did my deep dives. It lasted a week before the battery died for good. His brother chose a small Playmobil SWAT truck. No sounds, no lights. It is still rolling.
5. Always new instead of secondhand: Secondhand is our default. One year the boys opened second hand Duplo. Pretty rare, out of production. I reframed them as collectors items and they told everyone with pride. Wrapped up nicely, no one missed the official packaging.
6. Cheap sensory clutter: Sensory play matters, but not glittery slime tubs that multiply in drawers and dollar store themed clutter. Ours comes from time in the bath, baking, cooking, the sandpit, balcony water play, or homemade dough. We keep a 'box of inventions' filled with corks, clips, and small tools for playdough days on a Huske mat. I'm all for mixing playdough with the toys and figures we have.
7. Giant plastic furniture disguised as toys: There are toys, and then there is play furniture. A play kitchen counts as furniture. So does a Nugget style couch. There are nice options from Present Stories, Stapelstein, and Modu, to name but a few. The oversized plastic rollercoaster belongs at the Gemeinschaftszentrum or Hort, not in my living room. The boys play with it there, or on playdates and that scratches the itch. For larger Playmobil sets, we use our local Ludothek, the local toy library. Returning items can be a little stressful, so we carefully take a inventory and do a small triage and take photo records on the day we borrow them. Don't mess with the Ludothek ladies.
8. Academic learning toys too early: Curiosity is great, but I do not rush ABCs or numbers. Reading together does more good than any smart toy or kids flashing laptop. Early play is about rhythm, imagination, and time outdoors. Most of our puzzles, books, and games come from the local library and the English library at the WAC in Uster.

Gifting without clutter

Sharing is a given. A toy might officially belong to one child, but it lives in the family system. That habit started when they were small and started to share snacks and drinks.

When friends visit, airport comics always win. The thick Donald Duck Lustige Taschenbücher are classics. Pyjamas with Minions or Ninjago, English books, edible treats from abroad, all welcome. A cafe stop with hot chocolate and cake often beats any of it.

For birthdays I often suggest no gift on the invitation, or a small contribution toward one thoughtful thing. After the party the birthday boy chooses it, involving a trip back to the toy shop - which turns it into an event. Some guests still bring presents, and that's understandable, different traditions and expectations are in the mix. I just want to communicate, not police. And, Lego never fails.

How I find inspiration

Ricardo and Tutti are my favourite secondhand haunts in Switzerland. Sometimes the boys and I scroll Pinterest together, casting lego and magnatile build ideas onto the TV. They store up ideas.

I think about toys the way I think about a gym. When you walk into one filled with four hundred machines, you freeze. Give me a treadmill, a rower, a few weights, and I can focus. Kids are the same. Too many options can feel like noise. Fewer tools invite depth, and depth makes play last longer.

Toy rotation and timing

Even the best toys have seasons. Our Cuboro marble run sat relatively untouched for months before it clicked back into play again. Then I moved it permanently to the coffee table in our tv room and it gets daily use. It's a constant hit with my husband. Duplo temporarily sunk to the cellar, then returned stronger. Timing matters more than quantity. I rotate slowly, and now that the boys are five and seven, they help decide what stays and what rests.

We live in a 3.5 Zi apartment, with just over a hundred square metres. Depending on where you live, that might sound spacious or tight. For us, it feels generous as long as things do not pile up.

Rethinking Christmas

Switzerland does Christmas beautifully. Lights everywhere, snow sometimes, markets on every corner. For us, the season begins in mid November. Christmas is a feeling, not a day. Over time I have built our own small rituals. The boys send their letters to the Swiss Post Santa. We visit the Jelmoli tram, the Illuminarium light show at the Landesmuseum, the Singing Christmas Tree, and the local markets.

I don't do Elf on the Shelf. I don't fill calendars with daily trinkets. It is not nostalgic for me, I didn't grow up with that culture, so I do not feel the pull. My love language is quality time, not gifting. The irony of it all is that I own an e-commerce store, but I at least know that a mat is a gift for life.

I suppose in general being an immigrant means I feel more freedom to cherry pick what feels right for our family. I still end up overstimulated, sentimental, contented, and tired, but at least it's in my own particular way.

Instead of filling the month with things, I build memory. We do stuff. Last year I mad a photo advent calendar with pictures from the past twelve months. The boys love and need a visual countdown, one photo at a time. Last year I wrapped our ornaments in January so that each December morning they could unpack a few as the season unfolded. This year we're adding a reverse advent calendar, they're up for placing one item each day into a clear ziplock bag to donate or rotate out. Motivated by the chance to make room for Santa presents.

I've also done an advent calendar of books in the past, some beloved, some Christmas themed, some from the library. One to unpack each day and read together.

For Santa presents each kid has one wish and there is one shared surprise. Usually something that extends what they already love. On Christmas Eve they open new pyjamas, because somehow that has become tradition. So yes, it loosely follows the pattern, something they want, something they need, something to wear, something to read.

Stockings hold the rest, bath bombs, sweets, and a comic. From autumn onward, anything I buy that feels special for the family goes into a box in the cellar. By December there is enough to sit under the tree. A pull up extender for the Swedish ladder, a weighted blanket for my eldest, a carbon steel pizza stone for the oven. It pads out the gifting vibe and means I'm not scrambling to think of stuff.

Guiding principles

• Depth over breadth, go deeper in one category, not wider across twenty.
• Open ended first, toys that invite creativity, not instruction.
• Secondhand is normal, preloved is prized, not plan B.
• Shared culture, one family, shared play.
• Calm systems, clear homes for things, easy resets.

Less can mean more. Especially for kids who are sensitive, neurodivergent or easily overwhelmed, a calm space is a quiet gift. I see many gadgets online promising better focus or more calm, but simplicity often does the job better than any button or flashing lights.

De-influencing in practice

This mindset did not happen all at once. It came through years of trial and observation, both as a designer and as a parent. Play is always magical, but the magic does not grow with quantity.

The boys are happy. They play unprompted. Teaching them to manage and appreciate what they have feels like giving them life skills for later. And, as always they watch what I do more than what I say.

Like many parents, I think about screens and dopamine, about what comes next. Building a foundation of free play feels like one way of balancing the scale. The boys have plenty, but it does not feel heavy. And every so often I still look forward to the clear out that resets us, when I get a chance.

Parents are wiser than social media gives us credit for. I trust my instincts now. I know that the measure of good parenting is not how much kids have. Kids remember how you made them feel.

This is the framework that works for me. What has worked for you? Which toys have you stopped buying? How do you handle gifting? What helps your family keep play simple? You can write to me, comment, or send a message on Instagram. I would love to hear.

Kate