Friday August 22nd, 2008
I’ve been inducted into the sisterhood of Polly Pockets and Little Ponies by two little girls who would rather play with me than with anyone else.
At least for now.
Teensy.
Tiny.
Bitty worlds created in bedrooms out of scraps of cloth, handmade quilts and pillows from the beds. Miniature horses and dolls (some without heads or arms) play rodeo or princess castle in the bottoms of closets or behind short “fences” made of storybooks.
Mama, come play with us. Come see what we’ve made.
I kneel down, lay down, remembering I need to vacuum the carpet and witness up close a day’s worth of dirt on sticky toes and watercolor-stained fingers. I come down to live with them in their little world.
Their tiny universe that is as big as the afternoon is, as big as the sky outside the upstairs window is, as big as the patch of grass in the backyard. To them. They don’t even have the 
context to compare their world to
context to compare their world to
a year
a sunrise,
or a meadow…
And who am I to expand that? They’ve invited me into their world, their afternoon where they can make the rules. “That little horse is the baby. She needs a mommy. That doll is the teacher. She can live behind this gate.” I make no rules or demands in this galaxy contained completely on the floor of a little girl’s bedroom.
And most days I make them live in mine: my errands, my living room, my kitchen, my plans…
So when they invite me to learn the names of their dolls, when they invite me into their tiny sisterhood, I accept. Because I love them but also because I know something they don’t know: that their tiny world will disappear soon enough and will be forgotten for
years,
new sunsets
and the expanse of the unexplored world.
We too have a world of ponies living in our house!
My girls and I just finished reading “The House at Pooh Corner”, and I was a wreck. Hormonal I’m sure, but it was just so sad to me to see Christopher Robin leaving his world behind, knowing he would never come back to it, and knowing the same thing will happen with my girls. I started crying and they both looked at me like I was insane.:)
I think it’s hard because we know how much more peaceful their world is, and don’t want them to lose that.
lovely Sarah!
Love this line, “Their tiny universe that is as big as the afternoon is, as big as the sky outside the upstairs window is, as big as the patch of grass in the backyard. To them.” Very poetic, very depictive.
I think this post is one of my fav’s.
I like this post. Mine are 3 and 2 and aren’t pretending too much yet, but I remember those days from my own childhood. I can remember when I was in sixth grade sitting in front on my dollhouse and realizing that I no longer knew how to pretend the way I used to. It was a sad moment…it was like I realized I was growing up and I was sad my childhood was passing me by. I can’t wait to share in those kind of pretend moments with my kids. Thanks for sharing!
You are so inspiring, my beautiful cousin. Thank you for writing. I always look forward to it.
Just lovely. Makes me excited to join my kids on their next pretend play.
I love these kind of moments. I wish I could bottle them up and save for those days when they would rather play with someone else. Love this!!
Wow, that’s really deep.
Know what? I think that maybe adults need to hold onto the ability to “go small” like we did when we were kids. I think that’d be refreshing.
And maybe one of the ways God gives us that gift is when we’re willing to let go of the big and get down on the floor and enter back into tiny universes with our children. It’s sad when all we see is little toys there. What a gift it would be to see what they see again!
When are you going to publish? Your words are an art form. I loved reading this as I am playing Cinderella with my daughter.
oh so sweet, you make me excited for my little avery to be a little girl soon.
They may forget for awhile. But then they’ll be reminded, when they have little girls or boys of their own.
I did.
Isn’t that incredible?
Great post.
This just about brought me to tears!! I have 2 little girls myself and I often, selfishly, struggle to want to get down on the floor and play their polly pockets with them. Your words are beautiful and now I see it very differently! Thank you for that gift you just gave me!
BTW, I found you thru Kuckie’s blog…saw your comment and love your blog! :0)
Sarah, you made me tear up. That was beautiful. I’ve been gone for 3 days and have a million things I need to get done, but you just changed the course of my day. Thanks.
I have read your blog off and on. I found it through Lisa’s blog…I think she put a link up when you helped write the words for one of her necklaces. Anyways, Lisa and I go to the same church in SLO. Usually I just read and enjoy your writing. I wanted to comment on this post though becuase I just loved it!!! It’s my fav without a doubt!!!
I can’t exactly relate becuase I have no children…just a young “fresh out of college” girl who’s gettin’ hitched here in Feb. I remember those days where my bedroom and the scenes I created were my world. Good times! I’m sure they LoVe the fact that you join in and will probably always remember it!