Let’s talk about sex…”green” sex. More specifically, let’s talk about the birds of an artificial feather and the bees with a battery-operated buzz. That’s right – sex toys, lubes, goos and whatever else we use to enhance our adventures in the bedroom, with or without a playmate. These toys, however, don’t come with the warning labels and regulations that children’s toys normally come with. So, unless you’ve done you research, we women don’t really know what we’re putting in our…well, you know.

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I have never really been into cars, unless you count the 5-year love-affair I enjoyed with a ’69 VW Bug.  I have certainly never been into toy cars, or remote-controlled cars, so it was with some trepidation I approached last week’s test-drive of the new H-Racer, even if it was supposed to be for my kids.

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OK, I have to admit it. For all of the things that the holidays have come to mean to me as a supposed adult, for all of my ambitions to live a greener, less consumptive life, when it comes down to it, I still love toys. And not just wooden, cloth, or otherwise more or less eco-friendly ones. All of those are super cool, but let’s face it, so are Nerf contraptions that shoot foam arrows. (If there’s a locally made, eco-friendly version of this out there, please let me know. Maybe one with arrows made of corn starch, like ecofoam peanuts?) More...

Last night I was listening to the Last Temptation of Christ soundtrack, soaking in a hot candlelit bubble bath, gorgeously alone, my children soundly asleep A FULL 90 MINUTES AFTER I HAD PLANNED THEM TO BE (but that’s over now, and I can move on), exfoliating my feet.  This completely deserved bliss went down in flames when, gazing languidly at the foot scrub in the candlelight, I learned that the damn stuff was made in China.  And this on the same day that we finally got our new trains to replace James the Lead-Soaked Red Engine and his toxic coal Tender.  This after my own personal Army of One declared war on all cheap crap made in China and threw away bags of the junk familiar to all parents.  Yes, all.  I don’t care how well intentioned or green you are.  We all have some of it.  The kind of stuff children hoard but never play with.  The kind of stuff that makes you wonder who your real friends are after the birthday party goodie bags are opened.  The kind of stuff my friend Roger calls LPS (little plastic sh*t).

After the Thomas recall, and the Mattel recalls, and the art kit recalls, and the lead in baby bibs, I was ready to say: “OK kids--we’re going to Aunt Mary Ann’s farm in Silverton, wait for the first sheep’s bladder we can get our hands on, blow it up, and you can throw that around.  If Laura Ingalls Wilder could produce some of the most beautifully detailed and engaging stories for children ever written after playing with nothing but entrails and handkerchief-wrapped corncobs, then it’s time the two of you had similarly enriching experiences.”  Right.  What to do?

Start at Saturday Market, the most local of local.  Talk with the toymaker!

LilyToad carries beautiful wooden play kitchens made right there in St. Johns (!!).

Steiner Storehouse in Mt. Tabor carries Corvallis-made American Toys, and carefully researches their U.S. and German manufacturers.  All art supplies and candle-making kits are non-toxic.

Even if the toy isn’t made locally, a local retailer will at least be able have an intelligent conversation with you about it.  Sonja at Spielwerk in Sellwood has done lead tests on her own inventory, meticulously researched toy sources, and hosts “werkshops” where children can make their own toys.

Kids at Heart on Hawthorne has posted safety information from many of their suppliers on a bulletin board right by the front door. Their website also features manufacturer information.

Grasshopper on Alberta focuses on toys from manufacturers with the highest European safety standards.

There are many, many more.  Please tell me about them.  Meanwhile, in your copious free time, keep abreast of all recalls at www.recalls.gov.  Fun for you!

Of course, pick your battles.  I didn’t throw everything out.  Many safe and wonderful toys are made in China (though I’m still waiting for Open Season on those Ecstasy-eyed My Plastic Ponies whose long rainbow hairs stick to my legs and clog the drain).  And I value domestic stability too much to return to my early Waldorf ideals that had naught but wood and silk in my children’s world.  Meanwhile, can’t I please just scrub my stinkin’ feet without wondering if it really will curl my toes? Now excuse me while I go rummage through the worm bin and find some new dolls for my kids . . .       More...