I love dolls. I don't play with them anymore, but that's probably just because I have real live babies of my own now. Back in the day though, I was quite the little mommy to my beloved dolls.They weren't just dollies that I played with every now and then. They were my family. I remember being very young and bringing one of my first dolls to the dinner table on some Sunday afternoons. I'd haul up the mini high chair from the playroom, set her up with toy dishes, and serve her small portions of our dinner. I guess I must have spoon fed her during the meal. I don't remember any parent or sibling ever poking fun or even snickering at this. She was my baby, after all.
My family of dolls was wide and varied. Among them was a soft yellow doll (probably my earliest - Em had a pink one), a baby doll as big as little toddler me, a doll from Spain with blue clothes, a classic Raggedy Ann, a My Child doll with dark curly hair, a talking doll whose hair I fried while trying to curl with a curling iron (a mistake I only made once on my very well-kept dolls), a Cabbage Patch kid with two dimples just like me, and finally - and most prominently - a Baby Feels So Real and two American Girl dolls, Kirsten and Felicity. (I received Kirsten for my tenth birthday. It was a dream come true. I remember leaving the catalog open to her page on my Mom's bed, among other hints. I saved up and bought Felicity a little later with my own money. Those dolls were not cheap. I think she was about $60.)
Emily played with us once in a while, but Ashley Bowen (now Wood) and I were pretty hard core about the whole thing. (She had two American girl dolls and a Baby Feels so Real as well.) Sometimes we'd get off track while we played. But we always set ourselves right by saying, "Okay, everything happens starting right...now." Then we were little mommies again (whose husbands were always on business trips).
Sometimes we'd even leave our dolls with one another while we went on vacation. I remember being left to care for Ashley's three dolls, with changes of clothes and all. (All the while I had my own three to take care of as usual! Tough job.)
I even have some "family pictures" with my dolls. Siblings, which of you was the photographer for that session? I am impressed that whoever it was took it so seriously because I don't remember thinking it was silly at all. Hey, at least I didn't keep journals for my dolls like my big sister Amber did. Honestly though, I might have if I had thought of it. Like I said, hard core.
Ash and I often took our dolls for walks around the neighborhood in our mini strollers. One time we were strolling past a house of a boy Ashley had a crush on. Afraid he might see, she left me with the both strollers and walked ahead. (Don't get mad that I am sharing that story, Ash! It is hilarious and just shows how we eventually grew out of playing house.) I guess we were almost junior high kids by then. Not long after that is probably about when our dolls began to gather their first specks of dust.
My dolls sat on the top shelf in my bedroom for a few more years, and eventually were replaced with hairsprays, perfumes, and other necessary teenage girl paraphernalia. I carefully packed them up and put them high in a closet with my mini tea set collection and few pieces of doll furniture. A few months ago I brought home a couple of the boxes from that closet to store in my own basement. A few of my earliest dolls were in one box. I couldn't help but smile as I once again held the dolls I had loved so much.
I still love my dolls. Because I was such a good care-taker, most of them are in very good condition. I remember thinking I'd give them to a daughter someday. Crazy to think that day has come.
On Christmas Eve, at the last minute, I wrapped up my Raggedy Ann doll for Julia and put it under the tree. I'm sure I was more excited when she opened it than she was. I told her it was mine when I was her age. She said, "Oh, then here you go," and placed the doll in my lap. "No, it's yours now!" I told her. To that she hugged it and said, "It is just perfect for me." Since then Raggedy Ann has slept with Julia most every night, accompanied us on a few outings, and been included in dance parties and "Ring Around the Rosie" circles.
I was doing a little research and found that some of my old dolls are now actually worth some money. But seeing my own baby playing with the favorite toys of my childhood is more valuable than the money I could make selling them on eBay. Call me sentimental, but there it is. Every few years I plan to wrap up another one for Julia and any other little girls who may join us in the future. Yeah, the dolls will probably take a beating that I certainly never allowed. But they will be loved. Again. I can hardly wait.
