I see now that keeping my girls away from Barbie is about as possible as keeping them away from a playground on a sunny day.
|Our Barbie Bin|
Seriously, I would have to be THAT mom.
The one who takes away just-opened Barbie dolls on birthdays and explains the negative impact of a physically impossible doll.
It's just a doll, Mom.
So, through no initiation of mine, Barbies were given as gifts or passed down to us by older friends. And here we are, a house full of Barbie. (Barbie movies are particular favorites on Friday Movie Nights.) And my 25-year-old self is rolling her eyes at me, condescendingly. (Come on, Jess!) While the present Jessica is holding up her hands in resignation. They're girls!
And I am learning, at this age at least, the Barbies fuel imaginative play like none of their other toys. The Barbies are students in school, and parts of a large extended families. They travel to the bottom of the ocean and live in luxurious mansions -- which is actually my sofa. They are joined by the neighbor's Barbies (and one Ken doll!), get their hair done and their clothes changed. They sometimes sleep in shoe boxes. They have their own convertible car.
In closing, I likely would not have personally invited the Barbie universe into my home. Atheistically, she's too pink, has too much hair and too many little parts. But the effects of playing with a tiny-waisted, big-busted doll doesn't seem to have any profound effect on how the girls see themselves, yet. However, if the girls start developing body issues, I'll trash them all.