Like most people my age, I had quite a few toys when I was growing up. Nothing like the kids today, but I still had quite a few. And my parents taught me from a very early age that “things” don’t matter. It is about the people around you and the experiences that you share. My memories of my childhood are filled with people, fun times, and times when my sister got me in trouble, which was always. J
My mom and I didn’t keep a lot of my toys after I outgrew them. We lived in a small house and there wasn’t room for two teenage girls and a whole lot of toys. So we donated what we could and threw away the rest. I have a teddy bear that has a special meaning to me, but that’s about it. I am okay with that.
However, I do miss one toy, one baby doll, one red-headed cabbage patch doll. I can remember everything about her. What her hair looked like, what she wore, and I also know that there would be a stain on her chest, where I mimicked my mom changing my sister’s bandage on her chest. I wish I had had the foresight at 13 to know that even though I had outgrown her at the time, that I might still want her in the future.
Whenever I am in a toy store, I take a quick look at the cabbage patch dolls, hoping to find her or one like her. Now they have corn silk hair, preemie cabbage patch dolls, newborn cabbage patch dolls, and so forth.
So when this came in the mail yesterday as a belated Christmas present, I was pretty excited. Justin had done a lot of searching for a vintage style, red headed, green eyed cabbage patch doll. No, this is not exactly like the one I had. The clothes are different. The hair color is right, but the style is not. It is still pretty dang close. Close enough that when I texted a picture to my mom, she recognized that it looked like the original. I can assure that I am going to take better care and track of this one.