The Mommy Syndrome

The other day the toddlers pulled all the stuffed toys out of the big tub in the playroom. I don’t know what the purpose was but they really made a mess (that was probably the purpose).

But down at the bottom was a Plex doll (of Yo Gabba Gabba fame) and they fought over that for a couple of minutes.

Kaleb got it first and he’s big enough to keep it away from Kenzie.

Also in the bottom of the tub of stuffed toys they pulled out a little doll that we kept in Kenzie’s crib when she was still a baby. The little doll played music and its face would light up when you pressed on its tummy .

After the Plex fight, Kenzie picked up the music doll and played with it for a moment, somehow knowing to press on its tummy so that its face would light up and the music would play.

She seemed concerned when only the face lit up but the music didn’t play.

Then she laid it down and moved on to other toys, but the music doll interested me. It seemed to spark some memories and sentimental feelings within me.

So I also was concerned when only the face lit up but the music didn’t play. I’ve got to fix this!

I picked up the music doll and pulled open the velcro fastener on its back where the control box was placed and moved the switch to a different setting. Sure enough, the music began to play and the doll’s face lit up simultaneously when you pressed the doll’s tummy.

And again I noticed some feelings stirred in me that I didn’t really recognize. It was somehow sad, like sadness from losing something valuable.

Yes, that’s it! A wistfulness over a lost time in her life. A longing for a time when she was a baby.

I remembered when she was a baby and I would put her in her crib and go downstairs. I could hear the music doll start playing each time she pressed its tummy. I would smile to myself knowing she was content.

I would know when she was asleep because the doll music would stop playing.

Sometimes when the music stopped playing I would go back upstairs to check on her and discover she had opened the velcro fastener on the back of the doll and exposed the control box. She usually moved the switch to a different position so that only the face lit up but the music didn’t play. And if she wasn’t asleep she would want me to switch it back.

I don’t think she opened the doll up and changed the switch setting because she wanted the music to stop. I think it was because she wanted to take it apart! She just wanted to move the switch settings on the control box. I always thought that was pretty amazing for a baby.

So after play time was finished and it was time to go to bed, I took the music doll in her room and laid it down on the bed with her. I explained about how she used to sleep with the doll when she was a baby. I asked her if she remembered it.

She said yes but I don’t think that she actually remembered it.

She may have remembered about it. But I wanted her to remember it. So I asked her again.

I wanted her to remember when she was a baby. I wanted her to remember how I took care of her and watched over her then as I do now.

I wanted her to remember how content and happy and safe she was laying in her crib with her pacifier and with the music doll playing and its face lighting up.

What ARE these feelings that are welling up inside of me? It’s like Mommy feelings!

I don’t know if that doll will ever help her remember when she was a baby. Sadly, those days are gone forever.

But it helps me remember!

So I’m going to keep the music doll. I’m going to save it from going the way of the other toys when the toddlers outgrow them.

And every once in a while I’m going to get the music doll out.

I’m going to press its tummy and make the music play and its face light up.

And I will recollect the days when she was a precious, innocent, vulnerable little baby and Nanna and I took care of her.

And I’ll smile. And I’ll probably cry a little too.

But isn’t that what mommies do?

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