Yesterday morning I was drinking my coffee and reading the Sunday paper. As always, I separated the paper into the actual paper and the ads. I looked through the big stack of ads to see if there were stocking stuffers for Nick and Ben, and something in the Target ad lured me in: Barbie.
I used to love Barbie as a child. I coveted my Barbie pink Corvette, and I remember the excitement I felt when my mom and I went to a garage sale a few houses down on Stafford Street and the teenaged Plum girls were seeling their giant yellow Barbie camper. My mom got it for me and I was so happy. I remember playing with it for hours at a time.
I had favorite Barbies, and least favorites (the one with the hair "twirling" device that got stuck in her hair comes to mind, as does the doll I decided needed a short bob with school scissors). I loved Barbie fashion--I saved my allowance for new outfits and I spent lots of time deciding which shoes should be worn with certain outfits.
I saved some of my Barbies, and I saved Ken as well. I recently unpacked them from a box of childhood toys I saved. The boys have been letting Ken drive a monster truck :)
When I saw the Barbie in the Target add yesterday, I had that same feeling I did when I got Matilda's Cabbage Patch doll to put away for Christmas--an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.
I was looking at that ad and told Tom how "cool" that would've been when I was younger to add to my collection.
Tom went to Target yesterday to buy more outdoor Christmas lights and hooks for the ornaments. When he returned, he gave me the Barbie.
The boys, especially Nicholas, laughed at the idea of MOMMY having a doll, much less sitting down and having HER OWN doll to play with. We sat yesterday afternoon while Tom and our neighbor friends watched football and the boys and I played--with my new Barbie and her coordinating accessories, my old Barbie and Ken --all riding in the boys' trucks and trains.
Every now and then I think we forget to sit and actually play. Yes, I sit down and do puzzles and race Matchbox cars with the boys, but the idea of sitting with my Barbies as a thirtysomething busy mom really hasn't occurred to me. I had fun--it was a stress reliever--and for a while, it took me back to a much simpler time. It reminded me not to be so serious and that I can take a cue from the boys every now and then.
I do have to say that Barbie is wearing way too much makeup and not enough clothes for a doll for a child...now I feel old to have said it, but given that this lovely doll of mine is supposed to be marketed towards children at least 25 years younger, I think she could use a pair of jeans and a sweater.