I used to grab whatever he asked for or promised to be "educational." Toys that lit up, played songs, made animal noises. Most of them ended up under the couch or in a toy bin graveyard after a few days.

What I didn’t realize until recently is that most toys don’t ask anything back. They entertain, sure, but they don’t invite kids to explore, think, or create. That’s what I look for now.

I used to grab whatever he asked for or promised to be "educational." Toys that lit up, played songs, made animal noises. Most of them ended up under the couch or in a toy bin graveyard after a few days.

What I didn’t realize until recently is that most toys don’t ask anything back. They entertain, sure, but they don’t invite kids to explore, think, or create. That’s what I look for now.

No offense to anyone — but so many gifts are cute, but useless. It hit me when my mother-in-law showed up with a gift that didn’t even come in a fancy box. But it worked better than anything I’d bought in the last year.

That’s when I realized: most of us (grandparents included) are choosing gifts based on how they look, not what they do. But how would anyone know that from just browsing toy shelves or scrolling Amazon?

No offense to anyone — but so many gifts are cute, but useless. It hit me when my mother-in-law showed up with a gift that didn’t even come in a fancy box. But it worked better than anything I’d bought in the last year.

That’s when I realized: most of us (grandparents included) are choosing gifts based on how they look, not what they do. But how would anyone know that from just browsing toy shelves or scrolling Amazon?

We all do it. "Just one episode while I clean up." "A few minutes on the tablet while we wait." I told myself 10 minutes here and there wouldn’t hurt.

But I started noticing the irritability, the short attention span, the glazed-over eyes. I didn’t like it. I missed him. Finding something offline that could hold his focus felt impossible — until it wasn’t.

We all do it. "Just one episode while I clean up." "A few minutes on the tablet while we wait." I told myself 10 minutes here and there wouldn’t hurt.

But I started noticing the irritability, the short attention span, the glazed-over eyes. I didn’t like it. I missed him. Finding something offline that could hold his focus felt impossible — until it wasn’t.

We started reading the book together. At first, I just watched him play. But soon I realized — he wanted me there. We turned pages together, solved little “puzzles,” and made up stories. I wasn’t just supervising, I was in it with him. And that changed everything.

We started reading the book together. At first, I just watched him play. But soon I realized — he wanted me there. We turned pages together, solved little “puzzles,” and made up stories. I wasn’t just supervising, I was in it with him. And that changed everything.

I used to think learning meant counting or memorizing colors. But I watched him sort shapes, dress characters, and retell little stories using nothing but his imagination.

That’s when I understood: learning isn’t just about what you teach. It’s about what they discover. This book didn’t just keep him engaged—it opened up a new way of seeing him.

I used to think learning meant counting or memorizing colors. But I watched him sort shapes, dress characters, and retell little stories using nothing but his imagination.

That’s when I understood: learning isn’t just about what you teach. It’s about what they discover. This book didn’t just keep him engaged—it opened up a new way of seeing him.