American Girl

Today is my daughter's 8th birthday.  Kathy and I are usually pretty low key about birthday parties, or more to the point, we are generally too lazy to make the arrangements to actually make them happen.  So for Becca's 8th, we let her invite a friend over to spend the night last night, and this morning we took a trip to the American Girl Doll store in Denver.

I'm not an expert at all in the ways of the American Girl doll, but from what I can gather, the dolls can be designed to look more or less like the girl who is buying it.  There are all kinds of accessories available for the dolls, and the store even has a little spa in it that will do doll makeovers.  Becca got her doll as a Christmas present last year and plays with it frequently.  The whole thing kind of sounds like an overpriced fad, and it may well be, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I love seeing how my daughter interacts with her doll.  It is probably no different than a million other little girls who have an ingrained mothering instinct that shines through during pretend play with their dolls, but this is MY little girl, so it takes on a little more meaning for me.  It is wild to see her in this light.  We didn't sit down and teach her how to do this stuff.  She just does it, I assume, from what she has observed in her relatively short life.  One day, I'm sure American Girl dolls will seem childish to her just like princesses (which she used to love) seem childish to her now.  In the meantime, more power to her, as I'm sure this is a healthy progression in her life that will one day help her learn to be a good mother to a real child.

As any parent with older kids can tell you, our children grow up so quickly, and I'm by no means the first parent to realize this.  Recently, as Becca was holding my hand as we walked to school, I told her how much I enjoyed holding her hand now because there will probably come a time when she won't be so willing to do that.  She looked at me with a confused look and asked "why?", and I told her that as kids got older, they just tended not to do that kind of thing so much anymore with their parents.  I know this is part of a child's normal progression to becoming an independent teenager and adult, and it is hard sometimes to think about what that transition will bring.  But today, the thought of not wanting to hold my hand doesn't even cross her mind, and I like that.  I've read that daughters who are close to their fathers during childhood tend not to act out as much in those transition years as daughters who were not as close to their fathers.  I really hope that is the case, and I really hope I've established that close relationship with my daughter now.  And every day I walk to school holding her hand, it will remind me that I must be doing something right.  And I like that.