I think I may start making wooden toys.
I’ve had young children for almost twenty years. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to find toys that I think they would like. I’m sure most people reading this have had the experience of walking the toy aisles of department stores and seeing absolutely nothing worth getting. You wander back and forth, you hem and haw over the piles of grinning or grimacing plastic faces, you stare at the glare from all the recognizable characters and items from movies, tv shows, and video games. And then, as an end to your frustration, and as a sure way of giving up, you grab something you think the child will possibly like for at least one minute and that you hope won’t break by the end of the day.
I’ve had toys break as I tried to extract them from their practically indestructible packaging. Also, watch your fingers on the clear plastic, it’s deadly.

Invariably, the toys my kids have received have lasted less than a year. They spent most of their time on the floor, ignored and usually broken in some way. And they’ve all gone off to populate a landfill, somewhere.
That’s the real Island of Misfit Toys. It’s found in a sea of garbage.
Then I get to thinking about the toys I had when I was a kid. I seem to remember a lot of building blocks and tiny cars. I remember such splendid pastimes and melting crayons in a pot on the stove and putting pennies on the train tracks. I don’t recall any toys made from wood, though, unless you count all the various lengths of board that could be found around the house. Some of those even still had nails in them, which was very handy.

My father was a carpenter and ran commercial construction projects. His woodworking was practical, at best. He never made any toys.
So, I’m not convinced I had many toys when I was a child. Maybe that’s where the perception of lost value comes from. I see all the fragile toys in the store now, and I compare them with how long my own toys lasted. Well, my toys lasted a long time because they had to or I wouldn’t have any.
You can whip up a toy car pretty easily. If you make it out of a smooth hardwood like maple, it will last forever. You can exercise your artistry by painting some flames on the side. Or you can keep it very simple and apply no finish whatsoever. And the child may play with it for a few minutes. But you can’t expect any more than that.

A more adventurous and ambitious toymaker might try a pull-toy, one that has parts operated by the pulling action. You will likely need to use some metal in that, though, since the easiest way to make things move is to drive them from rods connected to an offset in the axle. But you could always use a cam connected to the axle that will bump up one part that would then drop on its own. Now that’s dynamic.
The truly insane toymaker might engage in making very detailed, handcarved relief figures on the wood, employ clockwork to drive moving parts, have tiny strings to make little puppets dance, install music box works to have a soundtrack, paint with stenciled overlays to create stylized images on the sides, perhaps even make the toy transform itself in some way through some very elaborate design.
Expect that toy to join its plastic friends in the landfill within a few days. And take a deep breath if you ever make something like that when you bravely give it to a child. You may as well hand them a hammer along with it, to quicken the agony.

The simplest things last the longest amount of time. So, if you decide to make some toys for your kids, make them simple and robust. Your kids won’t appreciate anything like that until they’re older and, if the toy doesn’t last very long, chances are neither will the memory.