Parental Fail

We put quite an emphasis on love in our family - and on compassion and empathy - which is why I felt like a Class A schmuck as I tried to go to sleep last night.  Any who know our daughter know her love for all things American Girl and as we approach birthday season her affection for the brand is more pronounced. I totally own that the brand is over priced and can worm its way into every facet of your life quicker than infectious diseases, but it embodies good lessons - I get the inherent double edges.  Nonetheless, Lydia opted for a family excursion to eat dinner at the American Girl café in Seattle and the purchase of Isabelle (2014 Girl of the Year) in lieu of a birthday party (she had to choose between the two).  On September 5, the very day she turns 7 we'll do just that.  She explains to most anyone who will listen that she's just like Isabelle because she can sew (thanks, Mimi!) and she's a ballerina too!  In a world that gives young girls so many bizarre messages, I can get behind identifying with a sewing and dancing skill set...especially when it morphs into fashion design and sparkles my daughter's creativity.

We're relatively new to the American Girl scene as Santa brought Lydia a "Girl Like Me" doll for Christmas a couple of years ago.  There are quite strict guidelines in terms of how to care for your doll - especially when it comes to their hair: you must use a specific hair brush (available at your local AG store) and you must spray the hair with water before brushing.  Failure to follow these instructions will lead to a rat nest appearance to your doll's hair and, potentially, bald spots (we know of the latter because we've seen it first hand).  Lately - as in the past 4 months or so, Lydia has been saving money to pay for her doll's hair transplant...yep, a doll hair transplant.  Any Christmas money or quarters she finds in the couch cushions goes into the 'hair fund' and she's been diligent about squirreling away every penny to achieve her goal. 

American Girl (heavens, I wish I had thought of this - the marketing is brilliant!) also has a website and your doll comes with a code to enter the "Innerstar University" where good lessons are taught about self-confidence, empathy and compassion.  The whole corporate brouhaha actually reinforces many of the values we hold dear as a family - despite it's ludicrous price points.  That said - we had a trial code for Innerstar U and naturally couldn't remember the username/password combo when we sat to play together earlier this week.  The website instructed a parent to call to retrieve the information...so I did.  During the course of the conversation I learned of a *jewel* of a program in which we could actually take our balding doll to the store (where we're heading on Sept 5) and trade her in for a brand new doll and only pay the difference between the two purchase prices (about $10)!  I was THRILLED - it was a done deal in my head because it was supremely practical and infinitely cheaper than the $45 hair transplant + an additional $34 for repairs to holes in her torso.  I excitedly shared the plan with Lydia just knowing she'd be thrilled to have a brand-spanking new doll that was better than restored - she'd be gleaming new and in perfect condition and all would be right with the world.

Alas - my tenderhearted almost 7 year old's face fell.  She nodded her head quietly as if she understood the practicality of the plan but it was clear her heart was broken.  The tears followed along with, "I don't want a new doll.  I just want her to go to the hospital because Santa brought me this doll and I love her so much.  I'm really sad because I don't want to give her away."  I'd like to say I was moved by her display of affection, alas, I was almost irritated.  Here we had a virtual get out of jail FREE card with the $10 new doll option and she was committed the almost $80 fix for the old one?!?!  I launched into a PR campaign to rival any other - we made lists of pros and cons of the hospital vs. trade in options, I explained that the money she'd save not having to pay for new hair could be used to buy MORE STUFF and she'd have a virtually new doll to boot.  After all, the reality is that they'll likely just trade out the dolls at the hospital anyway effectively proving my practical plan perfect.  We agreed to table the conversation as we have a few weeks before we head to Seattle and that we'd approach it again in a few days (and I'd have time to polish my argument).

Bedtime came and went but between the Diet Coke I'd had at 3PM (mistake) and the internal wrestling match I was waging, sleep eluded me.  Then it occurred to me - I'd become a bonehead, insensitive grown up with no regard for the loyalty of a girl to her doll.  I'd lost the very traits that I pray I'm instilling in my children - compassion and empathy.  My almost 7 year old had asked me for extra chores so she could earn the extra money to send her doll to the hospital to be restored and I was trying to tell her to toss her aside!  Worse yet, I was encouraging this very behavior by dangling the prospect of accumulating more stuff in front of her.  I was wrong!  It was midnight by the time I came to this revelation and I wanted nothing more than to go shake Lydia out of sleep and tell her I was wrong and that we'd make sure she had opportunities to earn the money she needed to send her doll to the hospital.  Instead I wrestled myself to sleep by about 1:30AM telling myself that first thing in the morning I'd fill her in on my epiphany.  And that I did - as soon as her sleepy eyes entered the living room, I sat her down and hit her like a ton of bricks with the news - she wasn't as elated as I'd imagined (probably because she was still asleep), but there was relief that washed over her, knowing her doll would be with her forever family like we'd promised.

We ended the conversation like this: Lydia - I'm sorry.  I messed up.  I know now that you love your doll deeply and don't want to let her go and it wasn't right for me to try to talk you out of that.  You reminded me that stuff isn't what makes you happy - it's love.  I'm proud of you for loving so deeply and I'm proud of you for telling me how important your doll is to you and I'm proud that you're willing to work to earn what you need to make your doll better.  You reminded me that love will always be more important than stuff and that sometimes it requires work and comes at a cost.  Thank you.