Momnesia

A Stich in Time Saves Not a Damn Thing When Emerson Encounters it

We went over to Amber's house last night (and by "we" I mean Emmie and me, because I certainly couldn't include Amy and Nola in that collective, now could I? I mean, plans were made and food was purchased and people were informed, but actually showing up, well, that could never be assumed from a verbal agreement to partake of the fun with us just me and Emmie; certainly no one else was supposed to go with us) and Emmie was a little weird.

Sometimes she gets solitary and goes off to play by herself. Once at our house she went into her room and when I went in to invite her to come back and play, she said, "Um, no dankoo. But I jus' wan' be by mysef' righ' now. Dank yoo berry mush, mama."

So last night she toddled off to play with the dolls that Anne and Madelaine said she could use, quietly enjoying herself while we talked around the kitchen island. About a half-hour into the conversation, Madelaine exclaimed, "Mom! She took the dolls' clothes off!"

Amber looked at her 10-year-old, bemused. "Well, that's what kids do with dolls."

"Yeah, they were kind of attached," Madelaine retorted, with a sarcastic hint of the teenage years to come.

We burst into laughter.

"Emmie, will you please bring the dolls in here?" I called.

Yes, the clothes had been stitched onto the dolls. But even that couldn't stop Emerson. When she was just learning to crawl, she often encountered obstacles in her path - a chair, a table leg, a dog. Instead of veering around them, she put her head down like a Bighorn sheep and tried to power through whatever was stopping her. She had taken that same attitude when faced with immovable doll garments. In fact, she still puts her head down and pushes when someone stands in her way. Pushes with her head. Like, what are your arms even for, child?

"I thought you were just being possessive of your toys," Amber laughed, as Madelaine gave her a look that clearly spoke volumes as to how little her own mother knew her. Neither of Amber's children are selfish - not in the least - but each of us has material possessions that hold special significance to us.

The clothes could be stitched back on - by some adult who possesses the ability to do such things, which I do not. Madelaine was still clearly not amused by the whole scenario - but her younger sister Anne laughed freely.

"Should I replace the dolls?" I asked Madelaine. She shook her head and grinned a little. She was beginning to see the humor.

"Are you sure?" I asked. She's a generous girl, and I didn't want her to resent the situation later by being self-effacing at the moment.

"No," she said, with a shrug and a grin. "Mom can fix it."

If only someone could fix my child. I fully expect - 12 years from now - for her to encounter her SATs and brace her head against the paper on her desk.

I'd better get her into soccer soon.