02 June 2006
Anita Loos was righter than she knew
They asked for TV about 27 times this morning. Each. That'd be 27 times 4. Groggy though I was, I held the line and said "no." 27 times. Times 4.
The usual whining, yelling, and howls of protest ensued. 27 times. Times 4.
Now, Four, Five, and Six are companionably huddled around the coffee table playing a board game (Candyland), having fun, being silly, and occasionally flaring up in Rules Disputes that I grit my teeth and refrain from meddling in. They've resolved each without fisticuffs.
So far.
Three has been reading the newly arrived American Girl Doll catalog. Someone told me, when I was panicking about whether I should buy her the very expensive doll she'd asked for (it was the first thing she's actually asked for and it was her birthday and yes I did buy it), that American Girl doll culture is a cult. I don't know if it's a cult, but it is at the very least a long-term commitment. According to the catalog (I ordered Three's doll from the internet so this is our first catalog) they sell not only the expensive dolls and lots (and lots) of accouterments, but also stuff like matching clothes. For the girl who owns the doll that is, so she and her doll can look alike.
But Three, with her beautiful Haitian face and hair, wanted the Elisabeth doll. Whiter than Wonder Bread, she is. I'm not kidding.
But it is an incredibly beautiful doll. Well-made. Satisfying to touch and to hold. Three's been carrying it around at every opportunity from the moment she opened it. And she's giving it a hairdo--braiding its long silky very blonde hair in long intricate beaded braids. These are the braids she longs to find on her own head some morning when she wakes up, and which won't be appearing for some time as her own hair is still too weak to support extensions.
So I'm glad I bought it, though I have my reservations about having agreed to buy her the blonde one, the one whose backstory puts her in Revolutionary Williamsburg. I mean, Three is supposed to want Addy, the courageous girl who escapes slavery during the Civil War.
Supposed to--meaning that I am failing her in helping her feel proud of who she is. Supposed to--meaning that the transracial parent's self-esteem lessons should be able to counteract her first 9 years of racist learning in Haiti (yes, the color lines are very clear in Haiti--the blacker you are, the less valuable you are, even there) and her not very diverse life here now. Supposed to--meaning that choices I make for her are highly fraught and no choice I ever make will ever be completely right. Or maybe even close to right.
All I can do is read everything I can get my hands on, ask for help wherever I can find it, and probably most importantly, not flip out when Three wants the blonde doll. If it's my fault she does, it won't be the first thing nor will it be the last that is. If it's not my fault, well, it'll be my fault anyway, and that's what the therapy industry is for.
And as I write this, the Candyland gang has broken out into fisticuffs at last, and I must go lose my Mother of the Year award again by breaking it up and distributing frontier Mom hangin' judge justice. ("No electronics till you are 30" sounds appealing as a sentence).
The usual whining, yelling, and howls of protest ensued. 27 times. Times 4.
Now, Four, Five, and Six are companionably huddled around the coffee table playing a board game (Candyland), having fun, being silly, and occasionally flaring up in Rules Disputes that I grit my teeth and refrain from meddling in. They've resolved each without fisticuffs.
So far.
Three has been reading the newly arrived American Girl Doll catalog. Someone told me, when I was panicking about whether I should buy her the very expensive doll she'd asked for (it was the first thing she's actually asked for and it was her birthday and yes I did buy it), that American Girl doll culture is a cult. I don't know if it's a cult, but it is at the very least a long-term commitment. According to the catalog (I ordered Three's doll from the internet so this is our first catalog) they sell not only the expensive dolls and lots (and lots) of accouterments, but also stuff like matching clothes. For the girl who owns the doll that is, so she and her doll can look alike.
But Three, with her beautiful Haitian face and hair, wanted the Elisabeth doll. Whiter than Wonder Bread, she is. I'm not kidding.
But it is an incredibly beautiful doll. Well-made. Satisfying to touch and to hold. Three's been carrying it around at every opportunity from the moment she opened it. And she's giving it a hairdo--braiding its long silky very blonde hair in long intricate beaded braids. These are the braids she longs to find on her own head some morning when she wakes up, and which won't be appearing for some time as her own hair is still too weak to support extensions.
So I'm glad I bought it, though I have my reservations about having agreed to buy her the blonde one, the one whose backstory puts her in Revolutionary Williamsburg. I mean, Three is supposed to want Addy, the courageous girl who escapes slavery during the Civil War.
Supposed to--meaning that I am failing her in helping her feel proud of who she is. Supposed to--meaning that the transracial parent's self-esteem lessons should be able to counteract her first 9 years of racist learning in Haiti (yes, the color lines are very clear in Haiti--the blacker you are, the less valuable you are, even there) and her not very diverse life here now. Supposed to--meaning that choices I make for her are highly fraught and no choice I ever make will ever be completely right. Or maybe even close to right.
All I can do is read everything I can get my hands on, ask for help wherever I can find it, and probably most importantly, not flip out when Three wants the blonde doll. If it's my fault she does, it won't be the first thing nor will it be the last that is. If it's not my fault, well, it'll be my fault anyway, and that's what the therapy industry is for.
And as I write this, the Candyland gang has broken out into fisticuffs at last, and I must go lose my Mother of the Year award again by breaking it up and distributing frontier Mom hangin' judge justice. ("No electronics till you are 30" sounds appealing as a sentence).
Comments:
<< Home
first of all, I love your blog!!!
As a young, jewish (meaning curly dark brown hair) girl, not only did I want the blond haired dolls, I wanted to be the blond haired girl - and my mother had nothing to do with it.
my solutio to all the "guilt" $1 in the college fund, $1 in the therapy fund!!
As a young, jewish (meaning curly dark brown hair) girl, not only did I want the blond haired dolls, I wanted to be the blond haired girl - and my mother had nothing to do with it.
my solutio to all the "guilt" $1 in the college fund, $1 in the therapy fund!!
Hmmmm......if I followed through on this, Three could probably go to Yale (and be extremely psychologically healthy while there).
On a more serious note, I do know, intellectually, that it is not my fault that she wants the blonde doll. Still, I also feel like it's my responsibility to somehow innoculate her against the damage the overall culture can do her. And, of course, I can't do that. But I still feel like I should do it. Etc.
So I'll just buy her the doll and put the dollars in the college and therapy funds and bank on the hope that her family can provide a strong enough base for her that she can love herself despite the elements in our culture that tell her she's second best.
You are a wise and practical person! A very good idea, thanks. And thanks for the good words about And Zen What too.
M
Post a Comment
On a more serious note, I do know, intellectually, that it is not my fault that she wants the blonde doll. Still, I also feel like it's my responsibility to somehow innoculate her against the damage the overall culture can do her. And, of course, I can't do that. But I still feel like I should do it. Etc.
So I'll just buy her the doll and put the dollars in the college and therapy funds and bank on the hope that her family can provide a strong enough base for her that she can love herself despite the elements in our culture that tell her she's second best.
You are a wise and practical person! A very good idea, thanks. And thanks for the good words about And Zen What too.
M
<< Home