A couple of months ago as I walked past Sarah's bedroom, I was startled to see a tiny baby laying on her bed. After a second, I realized it was her old baby doll, all dressed up in real infant clothes.*
Of course I had to tease her a little, about my 19-year-old daughter still playing with dolls.
On the other hand, it's far better to have her playing with dolls rather than boys at this time in her life, while she's focusing on college. The real babies will come soon enough!
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Maybe I'm just being fanciful, but I feel that the many years I spent playing with baby dolls (not Barbies) helped me develop the nurturing instincts that prepared me for motherhood in some small but important way.
Was I still playing with dolls in my adult years?
Well... Maybe "playing" isn't the right word, but perhaps "visualizing" is a better fit. I dreamed of being a mother for many years before Sarah finally came along and fulfilled those dreams.*
This was my bedroom in 1986, when I was 32. The doll was handmade by my former sister-in-law, Lynda. I dressed him in a real baby outfit and imagined cuddling my own infant someday.
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Sarah was born three years later, and then 20 months after that Jacob joined us. Dylan completed our family six years after Jacob's birth.
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Those maternal yearnings did not go to waste, and neither did the baby doll wardrobe.
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And maybe I'm biased, but I think Jacob looked far more cuddlesome in this outfit than the doll ever did!
1 comment:
Fun post to me. All those dreams and yearnings of the past. I was the same way, if not worse. I played with dolls more than anything else growing up. I couldn't wait for the day when I would have a little girl to share dolls with. Of course that never happened. But I do have a room for my granddaughters to play house in, complete with several dolls.
Love the picture of baby Jacob!
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