Not Everyone Lives In A Castle

Brynn's Christmas morning was laden with Baby Dolls. And Disney Princesses. And Barbie Mariposa. And Tinkerbell. And pink. And my dreams of creating the “Best Christmas Ever” in spite of the whole economy thing.

Everything was all “Oh, just what I wanted…a new baby doll…and Tinkerbell, she’s so cute…and My Little Pony panties…oooh.” And then, within seconds of the last present being unwrapped, and I bet faster than ol’ Santa Claus could lay his finger aside of his nose, the inevitable interrogation begins.

“But what about the My Little Pony house? And the Barbie Diamond Castle Doll & Carriage? Why didn’t Santa bring me those? I really, really wanted them.”

Huh? What? Were those on the list?

Of course they were. With about 63 other random toys. How do you even begin to decide between the My Little Pony Ponyville Pinkie Pie’s Balloon House and the Littlest Pet Shop Get Better Center playset with its kinda creepy little dogs and cats that have enormous heads. And unreasonably large eyes. And disproportionately small bodies.

And then there’s Barbie and the Diamond Castle. Did you know that Barbie is the star of her own hour long movies? Barbie as Rapunzel. Barbie in the Nutcracker. Barbie of Swan Lake. Barbie Fairytopia. Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses. Barbie as the Island Princess. Barbie Mariposa. Barbie and the Diamond Castle. Ummm…at what point in my life did I let Barbie make it to my list of “Movies I’ve Seen”? And why can I recite the movies that she stars in from memory? Oh, Barbie, why do you haunt me so?

Anyhow, on the never ending list of desired presents were the "Barbie and the Diamond Castle Doll with Horse & Carriage" marketing castoffs from the movie. Because, hey, if you’re Barbie, you can’t be the star of your own Drama-toon without having some hard, plastic toys with lots of sparkle and dazzle to back you up.

I knew in advance that disappointment was sure to prevail if Santa made a visit without leaving Barbie and the Diamond Castle Doll & Carriage. But Target was sold out. As was Toys R’ Us. And even (dare I say I even looked), the Walmart. This is ironic, considering the fact that for the entire 6 months preceding Christmas, Princess B has spied this toy sitting graciously on the shelves, begging for it with each visit to Target. And we do a lot of Target visiting. A lot. So this toy must have been requested at least 403 times over the past 6 months.

But, I didn’t buy it 6 months ago. Or 3 months ago. Or even 5 weeks ago. Because it cost $47.99. Really? $50 for a Barbie? My Peaches n' Cream Barbie from 1985 only cost $8.05...and she was pretty fancy-schmancy for her time. Excessive price tag aside, the real reason I didn't buy Barbie and her Diamond Castle Carriage is that I didn’t know where in the world I would hide it, because, guess what, Barbie, not everyone lives in a castle.

So, I waited. Oh, I now see the error of my ways. For 3 days now I have been badgered about Barbie and the Diamond Castle and the My Little Pony house. Persistency reigns at my house. And employing the You-Should-Be-Thankful-For-The-Toys-You-Did-Get or the How-About-We-Just-Give-All-Of-Your-Pretty-New-Toys-To-Some-Little-Girl-Who-Didn’t-Get-Anything-For-Christmas techniques fall unheard upon material girl’s little princess ears.

It's times like this when I envy those single, 20-something girls out there who don’t have to spend all of their hard-earned money on things like My Little Ponies and a $50 Barbie. They can buy useful things. Like clothes. And shoes. Things that won’t be forgotten about and shoved under the bed by week’s end, never to be played with again…

575 Pieces Later

It's an obsession, really. The Y-ego Master has spent the last 9 hours 16 minutes and 39 seconds working diligently on the Star Wars Jedi Starfighter with Hyperdrive Booster Ring. He has only stopped for the basics. Food. Water. A trek to Aunt Shannie's house in which he was itching to get back home to return to his project. Watching Indiana Jones & Raiders of the Lost Ark. Mama insisting he go to bed. (However, I did catch him sneaking a peek at his work-in-progress long after he was supposed to have been asleep). He has hardly even glanced at his other toys although he got some really cool stuff. Mini Remote Control Helicopters. Nerf Dart Guns. Light Sabers. And really cool stuff like clothes. And shoes. And toothbrushes. And underwear.

I think his love for Legos is only outweighed by a compulsive need to consume mass quantities of sugar. Cookies. Candy canes. Jelly beans. It gives him that nice burst of energy to see it through to the end.

If only I could afford a $54.95 box of Legos every week - it would offer a little bit of quiet time for Mama, but more than anything, it would bring me such joy to feed my little boy's passion for building things. Albeit just a little bit obsessive-compulsive. My little Y-ego Master...gotta love him.

Confused I Am

Have you ever wondered what language Master Yoda speaks? I think it's the same one as my husband. Strange he is. Strange is he indeed. And he has passed the gene on to my son. Strange, too, the boy is. Fascinated with Star Wars legos my son is. Yessss.

The bulk of his Christmas Wish List consists of pretty much every single Star Wars Lego set out there: the MagnaGuard Starfighter, the Hailfire Droid, the Hoth Rebel Base, and last, but not least, the coveted Starfighter with Hyperdrive Booster Ring (I snagged the last one off the shelf at ToysRUs today just as I heard the elderly couple behind me saying "...and Aidan wants a Starfighter Lego Ring..." - oh, that poor lady, she doesn't know Starwars-ese, either).

All I know is that trying to remember the names of all that Star Wars stuff is confusing. Why can't they just call it the "White Airplane with the Big Circle Thingy on the Back"? Or the "Bad Guy Plane"? Or the "Really Mean Robot"?

Why does it have to be so complicated? Why is it like learning a foreign language?

Wise, Master Yoda is. With Mama the force is not. Lo siento, mijo, no comprendo el Star Wars.

Conversations with a Preschooler

Me: "Why are you taking your shoes off? We'll be to Trader Joe's in like 30 seconds."

Her: "Because there's sand in my feet."

Me: "Well, don't take your shoes off and dump sand in our new car, just wait until we get there."

Her: "Noooo! Anyways, there's no sand in my shoes. Or in my socks."

Me: "Well, I don't really want any sand in my car, so please leave your shoes on."

Her: "There isn't any sand in my shoes or socks, Mama."

Me: "Okay, then why are you taking them off?"

Her: "Because there's something between my toes."

Me: "Really...like what?"

Her: "Sand."