My daughter gives me great joy. In the days of Bratz dolls and girls growing up way too early, she has remained sweetly innocent. She is only eight, and I rejoice in the fact that the world of make-believe is still one of her favorite places to hang out. When I grounded her from the TV, she just made her own and pretended to "watch" movies. The other night, she decided that we needed to eat in the dining room so all of her ten children (her baby dolls) could eat with us. I am constantly amazed by her imagination and creativity. There is no point in organizing her room, because she just doesn't see thing the way I do. I would put all the alike toys together: Barbies in one box, Polly Pockets is another. But she is constantly mixing toys to fit whatever game she is playing in combinations I would never have thought of myself.
I hope that she is able to hang onto her creativity. She wants to be an artist when she grows up, and while she may be one of those abstract ones where no one really understands her work, I want her to keep her childish hopes and dreams. I want her to always feel the same confidence in her creativity that she feels right now. I love to watch her skip around; a happy bundle of energy. I get joy from hearing her while she plays with her toys.
I know the day will come when she's more interested in boys, clothes, and make-up than barbies, baby dolls, and tea parties. For now, I will savor the moments of sweetness and innocence while I have them. Hopefully, she won't feel the need to move on too quickly.
Monday, January 25, 2010
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