When I was an elementary school-aged kid I always felt very aggrieved when it came to toys. My brother got cool toys from Santa, like footballs and Hot Wheels cars. I got dresses to wear to church, collectible dolls I couldn't play with, and books. My father kept us on a tight budget and there wasn't a lot extra for trendy clothes or toys or snacks.
The Dancing Doll
In 1968 the hottest toy out there for little girls was a dancing ballerina doll. I wanted that doll! I started a nagging campaign well before Christmas, begging my mother to get me that doll. I was taking ballet lessons at the time. I just knew that doll would provide hours of entertainment. She twirled! I could fix her hair! She had a real tutu!
The main reason I loved ballet was the hope that one day I would get to wear a tutu.
Christmas morning came and I was thrilled to see the ballerina doll! Santa had brought her! I felt like a normal kid who had triumphed.
For about 15 minutes.
Then I checked out my brother's gifts. I am pretty sure we ended up playing with the Hot Wheels cars for hours while the ballerina doll lay in a heap on the floor.
The doll was very limited as far as play value. She couldn't become a different kind of doll. I actually enjoyed paper dolls more, because they changed according to the clothes they wore.
I also liked Barbies, because my Barbie dolls had houses and yards and they went on adventures, sliding down the bannister, riding the cat, etc.
Mom said years later she hated to spend the money on the ballerina doll but she wanted me to learn a lesson -- that my judgment of what I would really love to have wasn't necessarily accurate. Mom had taken a lot of child psychology courses in college and she knew a lot about "play value."
My brother and I LOVED to play with empty cardboard boxes. Best play value ever! A box could be a castle, a fort, a car -- anything. We would play until the boxes literally fell apart.
The Easy Bake Oven
Around age 5 I decided I had to have an Easy Bake Oven. Life would be complete and filled with indescribable joy if I could just make a cupcake over a light bulb, or so I thought.
I showed my mother the commercials.
She was not impressed.
She and Dad eventually found me some cheap knockoff toy that let me cook a tiny hamburger over a light bulb but it wasn't the same.
We had a lot of arguments, but of course I never won. Mom and Dad tolerated very little "backtalk."
One day Mom just said in response to my incessant nagging. "You're not getting the Easy Bake Oven, Dee. Just get over it. I WILL teach you how to cook! You can cook real food in a real oven.
Shortly afterwards I was making real Jello salad and real tuna salad and real cakes - well, helping with the cakes.
I didn't get what I wanted, but as the song goes, I got what I needed.
I still love to make cakes and cookies and pies.
Too much...
As I've gotten older, I've learned that so often in life I do not get exactly what I want but I learn to love what I get. When Mom and I were looking at houses in 2005 we had a hard time finding one in our price range. Mom was moving over from Augusta. I was planning to sell my condo. We looked at a ton of houses.
Finally, we saw a house that was older, but it had a big ground-floor bedroom and private bath for Mom, and three bedrooms upstairs for me and Alesia. I didn't like the tile floor in the family room, or the terra cotta colored tile in the kitchen, but the house grew on me. Now I love my house. I love the neighborhood, and my wonderful neighbors. I wouldn't trade this house for anything, even though a lot of houses in the area are going up for sale.
I never thought I'd want any child but a baby that came out of body, for most of my life. Then suddenly I was 40 years old and I saw a little blonde girl in an orphanage and I knew she was my daughter. God knew what I needed, much better than I did. I don't think I would have done well with an infant -- the stamina and patience required would have done me in, I'm pretty sure.
That's okay.
One of the few compensations of getting older is learning that getting exactly what one wants isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's often much more important to be content with what you can realistically have instead of longing for what is out of reach, or costs too dearly.
I would trade every single thing of value in my house for one hour with my parents.
Life has taught me well.
