I have a confession to make: I adore baby dolls.
Never heretofore have I uttered a single word of my fascination and obsession. I'm almost eighteen years old and I still sit in my room at night and play house with the one set of perfectly intact baby dolls I have. They're identical twins. A boy and a girl. Small and very well crafted with sandy blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. They're gorgeous.
I have no gear for them. No little strollers or carseats or outfits or baby bottles or blankets like I used to have when I was little. That's all gone by now, and my little sisters have grown up with toys they consider more mature. Playing Teenagers and going out on dates and lusting after boys. They grew up quicker than I did.
So I make do without lots of fancy accessories. But I still stand for hours at the toy store admiring the line of Graco child's strollers, playpens, and carseats; the little darling baby doll outfits; and the well crafted, delicate little baby dolls. The things I need for my babies but could never ask for anymore.
I suppose it seems a little hypocritical of me to play mother for my little baby dolls (sometimes regular brats of course...I am an animated and creative Let's Pretend-er) when I spew out how much I dislike small children and the thought of ever having them. But I think it's far more fear than it is actual dislike. Growing up and being able to mother children is of course a scary thought. And furthermore, the ever lingering fright of being a poor, incapable parent, is always close. I fear becoming a mother after my own or her own. Neither of which I would ever want to be. The history of bad mother-child relationships in my family is alarming. I come from a long basis of weak family structures on both sides, and I am just afraid I am too terribly selfish to be able to remedy that. I will be just as bad as my mother and hers before me. And I do not want to produce another family structure like that. I could not handle it. But I am not sure that I could prevent it...
It's silly for me to be thinking of all this though. I know that perfectly well. Obviously I have a long time before I'll be ready for children. When it's time I'll be much better fit than I am now. Hopefully.
For now, I'm just the silly selfish little girl child fondling pretty dollies on her knee.
When I'm supposed to be growing up.
Maybe I just miss having little tiny siblings. They're all growing up so fast...
Apparently, my looming eighteenth birthday and too many trips to toys 'r' us lately have been wreaking havoc upon my weary little psyche. Here's a screenshot of my newly updated desktop to take the edge off my ridiculous confessions/pinings/ponderings. And maybe I'll come back with photos of my babies later.