Sally (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shiredancer) wrote2004-05-03 11:29 am
shiredancer) wrote2004-05-03 11:29 am
Musings and such
Gah, my kidlet is growing up too fast. We went to the open house at the junior high school she'll be starting next year *shriek* and all those kids look so... tall, and mature, and everything. The literature reports and art displays were really impressive, and they had an incredibly good singing and musical theater presentation -- I mean, who knew junior high kids could do such a sophisticated and hot rendition of Java Jive? Kidlet is *all* about music and drama, so she really wants to get into that group -- it's an audition thing, so we'll just have to see if she qualifies. I bet she will -- she's got talent, and isn't at all afraid to sing out and smile.
Then yesterday she basically discarded all of her childhood and dumped it into *my* room. There go all the Barbies (and Kens and Skippers and Kellys and who knows what all got into that family) plus the dream house and the motor home (we'll never have these things, but by gum and by gosh, Barbie sure did). Not to mention a bagful of glamorouse outfits and a whole box of mismatched tiny plastic shoes. She blithely dumped it all so that she could tidy up her pre-teen room, and left me to sort out the keepers (for the attic) vs. the to-be-donated. Another hot day, and I spent it in the even-hotter upstairs sifting and touching the remnants of what had been my daughter's fantasy life for a good number of years. Here go Herc and Meg and Pegasus into one bag, what's-his-name and Esmeralda in another, and all the variations of Ariel in a third. The first-ever Barbie stays, wearing the beaded wedding gown I made for her several years ago. A small sampling of the other various-hued dolls also stays (we always preferred the brunettes to the blondes), as well as the pets, who may have gotten more play-time than the ladies. I can hear echoes of the dramas of these dolls' "lives" -- they were always having babies and dying. I know Barbies aren't the most PC of toys, but I sure loved mine, and I figure as long as they're outlets for the imagination, it's all good. Heh, mine were always spies for The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
A couple weeks ago we got rid of all the plastic figurines -- the Simbas and Nalas and dinosaur collections and jungle collections. This is much harder on me than it is on the kidlet -- it's sad, it's too representative of time passing. I'm going to miss the idiotic smiles on all those critters' faces, and listening in on the amazing games they played.
*getting all teary-eyed*
Then yesterday she basically discarded all of her childhood and dumped it into *my* room. There go all the Barbies (and Kens and Skippers and Kellys and who knows what all got into that family) plus the dream house and the motor home (we'll never have these things, but by gum and by gosh, Barbie sure did). Not to mention a bagful of glamorouse outfits and a whole box of mismatched tiny plastic shoes. She blithely dumped it all so that she could tidy up her pre-teen room, and left me to sort out the keepers (for the attic) vs. the to-be-donated. Another hot day, and I spent it in the even-hotter upstairs sifting and touching the remnants of what had been my daughter's fantasy life for a good number of years. Here go Herc and Meg and Pegasus into one bag, what's-his-name and Esmeralda in another, and all the variations of Ariel in a third. The first-ever Barbie stays, wearing the beaded wedding gown I made for her several years ago. A small sampling of the other various-hued dolls also stays (we always preferred the brunettes to the blondes), as well as the pets, who may have gotten more play-time than the ladies. I can hear echoes of the dramas of these dolls' "lives" -- they were always having babies and dying. I know Barbies aren't the most PC of toys, but I sure loved mine, and I figure as long as they're outlets for the imagination, it's all good. Heh, mine were always spies for The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
A couple weeks ago we got rid of all the plastic figurines -- the Simbas and Nalas and dinosaur collections and jungle collections. This is much harder on me than it is on the kidlet -- it's sad, it's too representative of time passing. I'm going to miss the idiotic smiles on all those critters' faces, and listening in on the amazing games they played.
*getting all teary-eyed*
no subject
no subject
Thank you for the hugs and tears -- we'll share them, eh?
no subject
Sharing hugs and tears is good ~ it does help.
no subject
***hugs*** Sounds like I need to take you out for a drink.
no subject
I'm such a wuss and a *terrible* anthropomorphist... I was 13 when my mom came in one night with a big box and *made* me pack away my dolls and stuffed animals and paper dolls and toys. And I had to cover up the fact that I wanted to cry by acting like I didn't care. But really, I was so upset over my precious toys being packed away where they couldn't see or be played with or breathe. Gah. Toy Story 'r Us.
The good news -- I got 'em all back out of the box a few years ago and they're happily cluttering up my bedroom. But dammit, they can see again!