Several days ago, I was sitting on our couch with my 4 year old son when a commercial came on the television. I was looking through a cook book when something he said caught my attention: "That's what Maw Maw wants for Christmas." Before I could look up to see what was on the TV, the commercial was over. So, I asked him what it was that his grandma wanted for Christmas. "A Dancing Cinderella Barbie." Perplexed, I asked him again what she wanted for Christmas. "Moommmm.....A Dancing Cinderella Barbie."

Now, my 4 year old is well-known for making up some very believable stories and often relaying the not-so-true-truth. He's bright beyond his years and is a very slick little man. Using a little psychology, I figured that it was HIM that wanted the doll, and perhaps his daddy had already told him no before our encounter on that particular day. So, not-so-bright mom asked him if HE wanted the Barbie doll. My son sat perfectly still, and looked at me with his big blue eyes. He then said, "HMM". Thinking that I had him cracked, I was surprised when he said, "Mom, dolls are really for girls, and I'm a boy." Okay...Maw Maw wants a Barbie doll...

I can remember all of the stories that my mom told me when I was a kid, in relation to her childhood. She grew up poor, in Southern Missouri. Her mother died when she was only 10 years old, of cervical cancer that spread throughout her body. She told me the stories of how she would walk down to the pharmacy that was quite far from their house, to get her mother's medication. After her mother's demise at such an early age, my mom didn't have good times at Christmas thereafter. One thing that she told me, and that's stuck with me until this day, is the gift that her father had bought for her at Christmas the same year that her mother passed away. One package of underwear.

I guess at the time she told me the story, I was too young to realize what an impact that her mother's dying at an early age had upon her. Now, having children of my own, I realize how she must have felt. I cannot imagine anything happening to me or my husband, and my children having to suffer, much less at this time of the year. I've never actually told my mother, but I've tried to play that scene through my mind- A 10 year old little girl who not only lost her mother, but didn't receive anything at Christmas other than a package of undergarments.

Well, my mom is getting a Barbie Doll for Christmas. Now that's she's almost 60, she has quite an impressive collection of porcelain dolls of all types. Curio cabinets filled with dolls that she's bought over the years on vacation off of television, etc. Perhaps she doesn't need anymore dolls...but that scene that I tend to replay in my mind confirms that she can probably find some room in one of her curios.

I have confirmed through an unspecified source that she has indeed had her eye on some of the collectible Barbies, and she actually did point out the dancing cinderella one to my 4 year old. However, I've found a couple of porcelain collectible Barbies that I think she'll like even more. I hope that somehow, they will reach that 10 year old that's still inside of her.