I made a rookie mistake. The other day when I received a toy catalog in the mail, I handed it over to a panting Tallulah. She loves toy catalogs the way I love my Ikea catalog—we can often be found on opposite ends of the couch, studying the pages of our respective catalogs meticulously. Any day now, Tallulah will demand yellow stickies to mark her pages, too.
But this catalog came in September, just before her birthday and while I was trying to do some pre-second baby Christmas shopping. My typical holiday shopping technique is to wait until the week before Christmas and then frantically pull all-nighters with my computer and my credit card. But my baby is due at the end of November and it seemed sensible to attempt this whole “planning ahead” thing I’ve heard so much about. So I casually told Tallulah that if she saw anything she really liked in the catalog, to let me know.
Why didn’t anyone tell me to never say something like that? Or is this a commonsense bit of parenting? Because as soon as I said those magic words to Tallulah, she began her litany of gimmes.
“Mommy, look at this dolly. I like this dolly.”
“Oh, and this playhouse. I like this playhouse.”
“Oh, Mommy. Did you see these barbies? I love these barbies.”
“Mommy, I think these horses should be my presents.”
Twenty minutes later we were still on the first three pages.
“Tallulah, sweetie, how about you narrow it down to the best five toys in the catalog?”
“Ok, mommy. Ooh, here’s one. And this one, this one is two.”
I took a five minute potty break when we got to choice number four and by the time I exited the bathroom, my husband was rolling his eyes.
“She’s up to eleven picks. Great game you started, mommy!”
Finally I sat down with her to really look at the items catching her eyes. After all, I have been known to have the same response to J.Crew and Pottery Barn catalogs. Not to mention the love of my life, Ikea.
“You like this dolly, Tallulah? What do you like about it?”
“Oh, she’s so cute. And look at her hair!”
“Yes, she is cute. She looks like a big baby! What else do you like about her?”
Pretty soon, Tallulah was enthusiastically and poetically describing the positive attributes of all the toys within the pages of the catalog. We got chatting about the merits of toys in general and what she finds particularly exciting about different toys and which toys she could really live without-- namely blocks, trucks, and other ‘boy-ish’ toys. Break a feminist momma’s heart, Tallulah! After a twenty minute conversation, Tallulah seemed to have exhausted her toy enthusiasm. She put down the catalog and started playing with the toys at hand and I left for other, more adult pursuits. (Ok, I went to my room to read the Ikea catalog again. I never said I was immune to commercialism.)
Musings of Motherhood
About Me
- Kellie Bonifield
- Supporting characters: Kent, husband extraordinaire with, thankfully, a wonderful set of genes including strong cheekbones and the ability to eat anything and stay slim and muscle-y which has been inherited by... Tallulah, a blond curled, angelic looking four and a half year old with a huge smile and penchant for action. She often, to my dismay, demands to be called a princess-- but only if princesses run, jump, climb trees, defend friends from bullies, and are always right. Moxie, the baby. Organized and schedule oriented, Moxie will be recieving a drool-impervious day planner for her first birthday. She is bemused by her sister's antics and often hums herself to sleep.
