I am Not Jealous of a Doll

My children have never really been attached to their toys. Sure, there was a period when my son took a train engine with him everywhere, but it was never important which engine went with him.

For the past few days, though, my daughter has been very affectionate with a baby doll my brother gave her last Christmas.

Since I am used to getting almost all the affection my children give out, I must confess to being a little jealous. I am not jealous of the doll.

I am jealous of my daughter’s parenting skills.

The doll seems to be how my daughter points out my failings as a mother to her. This morning as we drove into the city toward day care and work, my daughter was unhappily sitting her car seat as I navigated the traffic jams. We’re having a rail strike so people who normally take the train in were on the roads.

“Mama!” my daughter called. I turned around to be greeted by a dirty look. She then turned toward her doll and hugged it closer and kissed its head. She then looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

The message? Clearly, good mothers don’t leave their babies in the back seat all alone.

This topped the “bye bye mummy!” that preceded her opening the apartment door by herself a few days ago to take her dolly for a walk in the doll stroller. She certainly didn’t expect her own baby to wait for me to finish blogging.

All in all, I am sure this is a positive example of upward management, so to speak. This parenting thing is bound to get easier if the kids just tell me how to do it.