playing with dolls. Then and Now(and week of being positive day 3..blablabla)
I am beginning to wonder if there is a correlation between how little girls play with their dolls and how those same girls then grow up to parent their children.(though if some of us maintain that we actually never grow up, I truly hope that no one who works for dyfs (division of youth and family services, ie, people who have the ability to remove my children from my home..) is reading this.
My relationship with my dolls was always an interesting one. I was the second daughter for my parents and daughter number 1, my sister (who is stuck in much much snow in Maryland)loved her dolls. She cherished them..took meticulous care of them-brushed their hair, made sure their clothes were always perfect, put them back in their boxes so nothing would happen to them. My mother, I am sure, was ecstatic. For those of you who know my mom, you know that she has quite the fondness for dolls. They have taken over my childhood home. I am actually surprised that my dad hasn't been asked to move off premises so my mom could have more room for her collection... ok, back to the point...so my sister took really really great care of her dolls. In fact, I think she still has them and they are all in perfect condition.
So here, my mom was probably thrilled to have a second little girl. (I actually do know she was thrilled when I was first born...the years following my birth, not so sure how thrilled she was..) Another little girl to buy dolls for. And not just your average-run-of-the-mill dolls...Madame Alexander dolls-the rolls royce of dolls.
If daughter number one took such good care of her dolls, she would teach her sister the same. Life was perfect in the Latkin household. But then, daughter number 2 was old enough to play with those said dolls....and here, ladies and gentlemen, is where the problems started.
Dolls, for me, did not have the same meaning that they had for my sister. I did not want to brush their hair or change their clothes and keep them neat and clean. Did you know that when you cut a doll's hair it doesn't grow back? Poor ballerina barbie was bald except for the non-detachable crown that you would use to spin her around...I actually still have that one because my grandmother gave it to me.
Did you know that when you hold a doll under water, the water starts to bubble as the doll slowly drowns-i thought that was a really neat noise. The dolls actually survived those drownings..(and I did keep trying.)
Did you know that a doll's limbs can come off and then pop right back on!! So cool.
Needless to say, my behavior did not win over the affection of my mother and my sister didn't let me into her room, well, ever, for fear that I might do to her precious babies what I did to mine....At least that is why I think she never let me into her room... So dolls just weren't my thing. What kind of mother was I going to be if I couldn't even take care of my dolls. The doll that used to make a crying noise when you would shake it-I would toss it around to see how many different noises I could get out of it...hours and hours of fun...(wait, am I a psychopath? psychotic, maybe, but this is getting disturbing..)
I am happy to report, that I have been a much better mother to my "real" babies, than I was to my dolls. I never cut their hair, tried to drown them or pulled their limbs out of their sockets.(please don't ask if I have ever tried to do those things to Ari....honestly, when I cut his hair, I really thought it would grow back-totally not my fault....) I loved playing with my kids for hours when they were little, making projects, going to the zoo and now I just love being their referee.
So, no, there is no relationship between how one plays with their dolls and what kind of mother they become, at least not for me. I love my kids, even when they are being, well..kids...
enjoy the snow, stay safe and Happy Wednesday!