My 11-year-old went to WalMart tonight with me, and she asked to see the toys. I've now been introduced to the latest craze in 5th grade... Monster High Dolls (mostly very skinny girl monsters, but a few boy monsters too.) She did NOT ask, but she has been hanging onto birthday money for awhile, so I let her pick one out... I actually asked her if she wanted to. We looked them all over carefully and found one sufficiently clothed. It's a mummy Cleopatra.
Now I'm wondering what came over me? This is not like me at all to suggest my children buy something they are a little bit wistful about. I help and encourage book buying from time to time, but not toys, especially not emaciated, over-tall, sassy looking, vaguely sexy, monster dolls! (Then again I never thought I'd do lots of things as a mother and have.) We certainly never had a Bratz doll in this house! But this situation has sort of really surprised me.
I'm wonder if I'm starting to grieve my children's growing up? (Surely not me! I'm the stalwart, no-tears-mom type, who expects a lot from my kids and gets it most of the time. I'm not a mushy, push-over mom.) But, my oldest is about to become an adult in 22 days. (That's a reality shock if I ever had one before.) I have two in high school now. (How did that happen?) And hardly anyone asks to go to the toy department any more.
Maybe I got caught in her sweet conversations somewhere, (NOT asking for one herself, mind you) of her friends playing with their Monster High Dolls at recess at school. Maybe I feel guilty because we say no to SO much the children would enjoy and even benefit from; like a Labor Day idea of swimming rained out because of the weather; two parents, three jobs, not enough money and tired all the time; seldom time to cook a family supper and sit down together; events we can't squeeze in because of work demands; weekends we can't do what other families do because we "have to work"; not home most evenings to put them to bed; having moved with the ministry so often that one child has actually attended 7 different schools in 9 years; etc., etc., etc...and they are all growing up SO fast!
I don't know what it boils down to, but twiggy little "Cleo" with sparkly hair, pouty mouth and 10-inch-heel equivalent bedtime slippers represents a whole lot more than the $9.97 that was paid for her. She made my youngest very, very happy, and I guess maybe I'm just not wanting to lose that magic yet... the simple magic of a small gift lighting up my child's eyes with such happiness. It will all be gone so soon.
