One family had made it a well-known rule to their family and friends that they only would accept wooden, Montessori-type toys for their child.
I loved this. I loved that everything they had was beautiful. (Their floor was also entirely covered in rice grains, but that's a different story.) I loved that they had no reservations about figuring out exactly what they wanted for their kid, and then sticking to it and enjoying the pay-off. Oh, both guts and glory! How wonderful.
I was that way about some things, too. (My husband might say about a lot of things.) When our #2 came along there was a period of internal iron against iron, trying to maintain my self-created utopia while also doing double - no, triple! - the parenting, followed by a dramatic tumbling to the bottom and finalized by finding a new, lower-bar steady-state. [Read: Who cares if it's made out of lead, just keep this kid from eating the baby!]
When #3 came it was similar, though it consisted of less iron (thank goodness) and a lower bar (eh, oh well).
I don't know exactly what I'm trying to tell you here, except that we parents change over the course of our parenting. Whether you have one kid or eight, things will change and you will change. You might be tempted to look back at your old self and say, "Oh what an idealist I was!" or "Oh, what a nervous parent I was!" or whatever it is that you were, and mourn a little bit. Or, you might feel pulled to lament your current lack of perfection as you juggle your increasing kids/responsibilities/ideals.
I'm slowly embracing the fact that I don't have to do either of those things. Where I was at served me well then, and where I'm at now serves me well, also. "Change" and "difference" do not equate to "better than" and "worse than".
So, there you go. Go be the best parent you are able to be, and enjoy the heck out of it.