The Princess received a My Littlest Pet Shop set for Christmas. She already has that particular set, and we finally got around to taking it back to the toy store yesterday.
Lay off me. It's been snowin' something awful around these parts. And the toy store is a 30 minute drive away. Or the distance of being asked, "Are we there yet?" 8 times.
So the Princess had $25 and change loaded on a gift card after returning the toy. A vast, huge toy store awaited her decision. We looked at Barbies, My Littlest Pet Shop, babies, games, and Polly Pocket. I shuddered through perusing the High School Musical dolls, the Camp Rock crap and an unbelievable amount of junk with Hannah Montana's mug magically changing a 50 cent piece of plastic into a $10 coveted item.
And what did the Princess choose?
A stuffie. A $7.99 stuffed tortoise shell kitty that meows when you choke it. I mean when you push the button in its upper abdominal cavity.
It was torture for me. She had the whole toy store to choose from. "Are you sure you don't want to look at the Barbies again? Check out the Pet Shops?"
Then I had to stop myself. I'll be honest. I hate stuffies. Hate them. The Princess and Baby's room is coated in stuffies. I try every several months or so to weed through them and try and get the Princess to get rid of a few.....they are everywhere.
But the Princess is not me. She loves stuffies. And I had to stand in that toy store and bite my tongue and stop myself from suggesting a different toy. She didn't even want to go look at getting another item since the cat was only 8 bucks. In her mind, the stuffie was of equal value to the $25 Pet Shop set.
And she loves that new kitten. It has been hooked under her arm since she bought it.
Another parenting moment survived. Allowing my child to have her own preferences is more difficult for me than being puked on or sitting in a moving car with the Eldest at the wheel. Losing 'control' is one of the hardest parts of raising children for me.
I don't want my kids to be exactly like me. One of me is enough in this little family of ours. I want my children to be able to make their own choices, be their own person, have their own dreams. And if choosing a stuffie that meows is my 6 year old's dream, so be it.
So. Another parenting mountain climbed.
And if you were wondering, I would have chosen the sets of Barbie furniture to compliment the 18 Barbies I already had. And they were ON SALE! I would have purchased two and had enough money left over to buy a chocolate bar.
But that's just me.
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5 comments:
I stowed all of my favorite stuffies away in a trunk. And every time I get up the nerve to throw them away and be rid of them, I look at them again and I cannot possibly do it. It's funny what value they've gained for me over the years. This story reminded me of it. I'm sure one day when she's a teenager (dares't I speak of such things?) she'll want to get rid of almost all of them. Except perhaps a (soiled) 8 dollar kitty with spots.
Question: did you keep any toys from when you were a kid? And if yes, what did you keep? (Maybe you could make a b-journal (that's for TentativeEquinox) post about that.)
I have one stuffed animal from my past. My teddy bear that I slept with for years and years and years. I will never get rid of him.
A b-journal about my childhood toys.....hmmmmm......
Okay, first of all, there is no hyphen in bjournal. You don't say b-log why would you say b-journal? Sheesh! To help, you can pronounce it bee-yearn-el to make it flow a bit more easily
Second, Ms. Mahoney, I don't recall us having any Barbies. I remember some Barbie-ish doll with curly red hair and a patent leather zip up bag, but 18!? Real Barbies? Seriously? My memory is more flawed than I thought.
I remember the Teddy Bear though.
Third, sorry, we gave the Baby a stuffie for Christmas. It won't happen again. Nope, next year, percussion and wind instruments.
Fourth, do you all have your tickets to Altar Boyz yet? (Sorry, shameless cross promotion.)
No, we didn't have Barbies. But the Princess has 18. I suppose I was transporting my peabrain into her life temporarily. Or something.
And the Baby LOVES her Christmas stuffie. It was the perfect gift. Please. No loud toys. I beg you.
Altar Boyz? Hmmmm....sounds like a lark. Are they perhaps coming to my neck of the woods?
Holy grammar! Tentative Equinox, it's not in the dictionary... yet. Slight miscalculation on my part, and I do apologize. I will never transgress again. All I have to say further is, "Meh."
(Stuff White People Like:
#99- Grammar)
Bee-tee-double-u: We should maybe plan a ladies night. I think a viewing of "My Fair Lady" is in due order.
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