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Now that my daughters are getting older, it's fun to see how their play has progressed. For awhile I wondered if they would ever engage in creative play without being prompted. Now they make up the most interesting games.
Right now Tortilla is having her Barbie ride a horse. She's making the horse noises, too. She's so absorbed in her game that she doesn't even know I'm watching her.
Roo and Sue Sue like to play "robot." We have a magnet that has a small button on it. One of them will be in charge of pushing the button and the other walks around pretending to be a robot. They use monotone robot voices. Right now, though, they're playing a game called "Toodle Wuzzie." I can't figure out the concept, but they're enjoying it.
Cakes loves to dress up. Most days she'll walk around in a princess dress and high heel shoes. She's four and already better at walking in heels than I am. It's a nice feeling that most of the time when I turn the TV on, they ignore the tube and end up playing a make believe game.
When my daughters had their birthday party last weekend, one guest gave each of them a Barbie. The mom, who only has sons, asked me if it was OK for my girls to play with Barbies. Ummmm... yeah. You see, the liberal, "girl power" side of me cannot come to terms with the notion that Barbie is supposed to be evil.
I grew up with Barbie. My Barbies were my favorite toys... ever. I have a box in my basement full of Barbies and another box full of clothes. I spent hours playing with my Barbies through sixth grade when it was no longer cool to play with dolls. Sure, I brushed their hair and dressed them in fancy clothes, but playing with Barbie was more than just playing dolls.
Each doll in my "Barbieverse" had a name and a specific role. I made up elaborate stories and acted them out with my Barbies. Barbie sparked tons of creative play for me.
I know, I know, if a real woman had those proportions she would fall over. Let me break this to you gently... Barbie is a doll. Shortly after my daughters were born they each received a doll that was the same length my girls were at birth. I like to point this out to them every now and then when they're playing baby dolls so they have some concept of how small they were. But here's the kicker: Sue Sue's doll is a chubby little thing. Sue Sue may have been the biggest at birth at a whopping two pounds four ounces, but she didn't have the chubby cheeks or meaty legs this doll has. Where is the outcry over baby dolls whose proportions don't add up?
Barbie is a bad role model? I seem to remember her motto during my childhood being "We girls can do anything." And my Barbie did. She wasn't limited to her wedding dresses and ball gowns. She had adventures and kicked butt along the way.
If my daughters want to play with Barbie, I'm all for it. It's more about playing with a doll and making up stories, than which doll their playing with. But if they ever decided they like Bratz dolls it will be whole different story.
This past weekend was my semi-annual moms of multiples club sale. One of the items someone was selling was a Step 2 kitchen. You know... the really nice, really expensive one? Anyway, one mom wondered aloud if it was an appropriate toy for her son. All of us immediately responded with a "YES!" How in the world can a play kitchen be only for girls?
The majority of our imaginary play happens at our play kitchen. Yesterday, for example, I was served strawberry juice (the play strawberry was in the cup), doughnut soup and an egg. Yummy, right? Oh, and I can't forget the tea I was served in a princess cup. I was stuffed after my pretend meal.
Not only do we have the play kitchen, but we have the obligatory gigantic bag of play food to go with it. The food cracks me up. There are the standards: spaghetti, peas, bread. But some of the food has me scratching my head: soy sauce, sushi, asparagus. (Side note: many of you own this exact same bag of food. Toss the sushi unless you want to constantly be telling your children not to put it in their mouths. It's small, it's dangerous). There is one item in this bag that I have no idea what it is. It's three brown cubes stacked together. I'm at a loss. Anyone? Yesterday one of the girls served it to me on a plate. Then she asked me "what's that?" I couldn't even make something up.
The day my daughters stop using the play kitchen will be a sad day. Who else would think to serve me a raspberry tart in the middle of the afternoon? I eat well... even if it's all pretend.
