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For about two years now, Grandma M has been anxious to continue her time-honored tradition with her youngest granddaughters. One that began years ago when her first granddaughter Jill reached the appropriate age. The tradition lived on with Johanna and Chloe, and Kara and Jenna were to be next.
For about two years now, I've been telling Grandma M that my girls just weren't ready. They weren't old enough to understand, nor appreciate the monetary value behind a toy. I knew of what I spoke. I had witnessed the baby doll carnage in our house for the past several years. Dolls in various stages of nakedness lay strewn about our house, or heaped together in awkward piles inside our doll basket. Unloved. Unfed. Undiapered. Neglected. Dirty and naked.
Despite previous history and experience, I knew that the day would inevitably come, so I had to get my girls prepared. We got on the catalog mailing list, and began looking at each issue as if our very existance depended on it. Catalogs were manhandled, fought over, read and re-read, written all over with circles and initials where each girl had staked their territory and marked their fancies. I cultivated this voracious appetite for the finer things in life, until I was certain that I had pre-conditioned them to the appropriate level of doll lust. I could see it in their eyes, I could feel it in the air. My girls were ready!
So on a beautiful fall Saturday afternoon, we trekked up to Grandma's house, picked her up, and continued our long and arduous journey to Chicago. With mounting anticipation, we arrived on Michigan Avenue and proceeded down the long blocks of the Magnificent Mile ... until we saw it in the distance. The red awning beckoned to us, and we knew we had arrived!
After what seemed like a sweet forever, we finally parked the car and got into Watertower Place. My first priority was looking at the directory to scope out where we were going to eat our lunch (mama has her priorities), so I missed what Grandma M called her favorite memory of the day: the girls' first look at the American Girl store, and the awe and wonder on their faces. Luckily, I did turn around in time to witness the cuteness of them staring into the store with their little faces pressed up against the windows.
Once inside, we met Auntie Mar and cousin Lily, and began our shopping experience. We looked at everything: Bitty Babies, Just Like You Dolls, and the traditional American Girls.
It didn't take Jenna long to zero in on her choice. Her months of careful research and consideration payed off! She headed right over to the shelf, and selected her first American Girl doll ... Julie! The joy on her face says it all ... she couldn't be more in love with her "girl".
Kara wasn't as lucky. After racing from doll to doll and section to section, we pretty quickly determined that she was still too young to make such an important decision. I think I could actually see the relief on her face when I suggested that we wait a bit longer, until she's old enough to make a decision. Perhaps mommy might have layed on the Even she was stressed about the finality of such an important desicion! She was perfectly happy to pick out a stuffed animal doggie and call it a day. I feared that she would change her mind as soon as we left, but she still hasn't!
American Girl store was all I thought it would be, and more. It was ridiculously crowded and hot, and despite the fact that the merchandise was expensive, people were walking around with HUGE carry bags of goodies to purchase. The lines were long and the whole experience was kind of a bit over-stimulating for this easily rattled mama. But do you know what? I'll never forget the day, and I'm almost secretly looking forward to returning there in the spring for a birthday tea party for the girls. Almost.
Ironically, even with the bumpers, I wasn't able to beat Kara in either game. Seriously. What 3 year-old can score a 117? The better question might be, what adult can't manage to break 100 with bumpers?! Even more ironic is the fact that I actually took bowling as a class in college. Hey, don't judge ... I needed the physical education hours. And the GPA boost. Thanks mom and dad!
