In my previous, more minimalist existence, my belongings consisted of a few pairs of jeans, a guitar, some novels, and a set of lovely dishes from Chinatown. Cleaning was simple; everything stayed in its place. However, once children entered the picture, I found myself facing an overwhelming influx of plastic items, worn swings, squeaky playpens, and a multitude of wipes. My once serene living space transformed into a chaotic playground cluttered with Thomas trains that somehow ended up in my prized Martin guitar case.
When I became pregnant, the advice poured in: “You only need onesies and diapers!” was often followed by, “But you should definitely have this bouncy seat that plays ‘Life is a Highway’—it’s the only thing that calms our baby!” The suggestions multiplied, and I realized that the financial burden of all these must-have gadgets was not feasible. Thus, I began to seek hand-me-downs, which often come with a silver lining—great finds! But with them also arrived a mountain of junk—items that people wanted to clear from their own closets without consideration.
I encountered bags filled with stained clothing, mismatched pajamas, a single shoe, and broken toys. It felt as if the mindset was, “She has so much clutter already; why not add this deflated ball to her collection?” This dynamic turns the recipient into a trash collector. Yes, some items are useful, but much of what I received was clearly unusable—clothes that wouldn’t fit for ages, toys missing important parts, or items that still bore the scent of peanut butter. Receiving a bag where three-quarters of the contents are trash felt more like a chore than a gift.
I recognize that I might have biases—my childhood included times when my single mother relied on donations from organizations like the Red Cross. We often found ourselves sifting through boxes filled with unsuitable donations, shaking our heads at the quality and wondering what it said about the giver’s generosity. Now, while I’m merely thrifty and not needy, the overwhelming amount of junk that comes with having a baby still strikes a familiar chord. You feel less like an individual with preferences and more like someone who must accept whatever is thrown their way, whether it’s a bent Swiffer or a half-eaten snack.
Sure, sorting through a bag isn’t the hardest task. But with the countless responsibilities that come with motherhood—doctor appointments, remembering shoe sizes, and picking up snacks for class—this small job can feel like just another item on an endless to-do list. Over time, I learned to politely decline most offers of castoffs, except from a select few friends who I trust to provide clean, appropriate items, preferring to shop at thrift stores instead.
Another layer of this issue arises when family members clean out their garages and decide to pass along items they can’t bear to throw away, such as an old chicken mask from 1985. While the child may find it amusing and terrifying, the mother may not share the same enthusiasm.
Examples of these “gifts” include:
- A giant t-shirt from a family reunion in 1994.
- A mountain of band-aids that don’t stick.
- Trucker hats from a community event.
- A plastic ID badge from the same event.
- An Ikea bench meant for an entryway that doesn’t exist in my home.
- Baby clothes retrieved from storage, now covered in black mold.
- An empty picture frame.
- Vinyl baseboards for “building stuff.”
- Free items from a cosmetics counter.
I understand that a significant portion of this gift-giving impulse stems from a desire to be generous. However, it often also reflects a reluctance to deal with the hassle of discarding unwanted items. Many people don’t want to add more to landfills, so they look at their worn-out baby clothes and think, “Who could use this?” It’s a fair question, as long as the recipient has the option to decline.
When someone shows up unannounced with a random chicken mask, it’s not a thoughtful gift; it’s a hot potato of trash. The giver feels relieved to remove it from their home, but now the recipient must shoulder the emotional burden of deciding what to do with it. Children tend to hoard these oddities, which complicates things further when trying to declutter.
With the holidays approaching, the labor of planning and celebrating often falls disproportionately on women and mothers, who juggle cooking, decorating, and ensuring everything runs smoothly. A good gift communicates, “I see you. I understand your interests and needs.” Conversely, a poorly thought-out gift conveys disregard, making the recipient feel invisible.
While it’s true that no one has to give a gift, it’s crucial that the act of giving reflects consideration for the recipient. When gifts miss the mark, whether they’re bizarre items like a chicken mask or something inappropriate for the recipient’s age or style, it can sting. It’s about being seen as an individual with distinct preferences, something that often gets lost in the whirlwind of motherhood.
To learn more about the emotional aspects of gift-giving and motherhood, check out our other blog posts about navigating fertility and family dynamics at this link. For practical advice on family essentials, visit this trusted resource. Additionally, if you’re interested in the background of artificial insemination, this Wikipedia article is an excellent resource.
In summary, while hand-me-downs can be a fantastic way to save money, they can also come with unwanted clutter. When giving or receiving gifts, it’s essential to consider the recipient’s needs and preferences to ensure that the gesture is genuinely thoughtful rather than a means of offloading unwanted items.