I can distinctly remember which of my childhood toys were my favorites. I loved my Fisher-Price record player, my Garfield stuffed animal, my wooden 12-horse stable, my pink Skip-It, and of course, my Cabbage Patch dolls. To this day I still read about the Cabbage Patch doll craze of the ‘80s and how, come the Christmas holidays, retailers couldn’t keep Cabbage Patch dolls in stock. Some poor, neglected child might have had to experience life without one of these precious stuffed dolls with their almost-too-round plastic heads and stringy yarn hair.
After spending this past weekend with my mom for Mother’s Day, and after sifting through some very sweet childhood memories, I was again reminded of how loved I was as a child; spoiled might actually be a better word to describe my situation.
This weekend my mom retold a story known as the “Cabbage Patch doll fiasco.” There was a Christmas when all my sister and I had asked Santa for was a Cabbage Patch doll (I find it hard to believe that that’s all I asked for, but that’s what mom said). Mom said she and my father searched every store, only to find the shelves stripped bare of Cabbage Patch dolls. In desperate times such as those, parents were given the option to purchase a “make your own Cabbage Patch doll” kit. This involved much sewing and stuffing and skilled artistry. My mother, in her unwavering attempts to make us kids happy, purchased the kit and made us a Cabbage Patch doll that year. I remember her still today. The doll had long, brown hair. She was slightly different than the real Cabbage Patch dolls. Her face wasn’t as authentic-looking and her body was slightly larger than other Cabbage Patch dolls. Knowing that I made this distinction as a child makes me feel very sad and guilty. What a Cabbage Patch doll snob I was!
The worst part is that the very next year, we selfish kids wanted another Cabbage Patch doll. Of course we were granted our wishes. My “new and improved” doll had red hair and her name was Ivy. I played with her all the time, ignoring the handmade brown-haired doll that my mother had worked hard to make.
I wonder how that made my mother feel. Are parents so selfless that it doesn’t bother them as long as their children are happy? One can only hope so.
3 comments:
Great post. I too craved a cabbage patch doll and when I received a bald boy one, I was also less then thrilled. It's in children's nature I suppose? I don't know why we're so detail oriented one moment and are happy to just play with a cardboard box and a wrapping paper spool the next. I think what makes parents selfless is that they understand since they were all once children too ;)
I too had a hand-made impostor cabbage-patch doll that my grandmother made. I wish I had been more grateful when I received mine as well. What made matters worse was the girls in my 2nd grade class would bring their cabbage patch dolls to school and place them all together on this table in the classroom....and there mine sat looking quite odd amidst all the hard plastic-faced dolls. Oh grandma, she meant well!!
Isn't that sweet?
Your short-lived interest in the homemade Cabbage Patch doll was simply attributed to children's short attention span. Besides you had so many other toys.
You are correct that parents are happy when their children are happy. You will find out soon enough, darling...
Mom
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