Oh Babydoll

I don't think Babydoll knew what she was getting herself into, when she wandered into our shopping cart and came home with us from Kmart, on a random day sometime last year. Eleanore was still young at the time, not as frightening, and probably seen as inviting to the untrained eye. An easy mistake that I too, probably would have made upon first glance.

Eleanore's love for Babydoll is ever changing. She went through a phase where she hated Babydoll, didn't want anything to do with her, didn't understand why there was a tiny plastic person laying on the floor next to her wanting to be her playmate. And then, she was afraid of Babydoll. Maybe it was her expressionless face or her strange pillow body. And then one day, Babydoll was her best friend. Overnight, literally, while Babydoll slept next to Eleanore, they had bonded.

Cute, very cute. At first.

Me, being the best, and most attentive Mom ever, obviously, I started finding Babydoll in the strangest of predicaments. Chocolate, all over Babydoll's face. Where was this chocolate from, and how old was it? Marker, or maybe finger paints (?), all over Babydoll's fingers. I know she didn't get up and get into the craft supplies by herself. Babydoll, on the potty. Eleanore must have been in over her head on the cost of diapers, I'm sure she'd much rather spend that money on stickers and storybooks. Babydoll, covered in potty, but I'll spare you the details of that one. Yesterday I heard Eleanore yell something "blah blah blah Babydoll blah blah bathtub blah blah", from upstairs. "OK!" I yelled back, not bothering to get up and see what she was doing, how bad could it be anyways? An hour or so later, while walking past the upstairs bathroom, I threw myself into reverse, and cranked my head to the left to observe Babydoll floating happily in an icy Eurobath full of stale banana water. Crap.

And I can't even tell you how many times I've come down the stairs to find Babydoll laying upside down in the midst of a pile of blankets, with just an arm or a leg sticking out, sending me into a panic. Or sitting awkwardly in the high chair, staring straight ahead, completely motionless, scaring the pants off of me, because of course, I thought she was real.

But apparently, I'm not the only one...