American Girl

Naomi has joined a Summer Reading Program book-club. It's a Tuesday night occasion at one of the public library branches we don't generally frequent. The reading list of American Girl books piqued Naomi's interest, though, and I was quick to agree to chauffeur her back and fourth.

While these Tuesday occasions are located in my least favorite corner of Lincoln I have to say the book club itself is actually a fine time. Glue-sticks, glittery craft activities and a group of clever girls discussing the latest text. It's also lead by two teen-aged sisters and their mom with a whole lot of enthusiasm.

The hard moment comes at the close of each Tuesday. When the group leader has encouraged each reader to bring her American Girl doll and stand up to talk about the dolls. Have you seen these dolls? They're lovely, actually, and apparently rather well made. They also lighten your wallet by $95 for just the doll. Accessories and outfits run anywhere between $30 and $200.

Years ago, when Naomi first became infatuated with the American Girl series, she got the message loud and clear that the books were great but the product-line wasn't going to be something we could afford. All kids have something and no kids have everything. She was remarkably OK with that.

But it irritated me to have a book club, at the public library, wind up every session with a 20 minute product plug. That irritation took a sharp turn to out-and-out pain this past weekend when my kid took a magic marker to the forehead of her favorite doll to draw bangs. Washed the doll's synthetic hair in an attempt to style it. And purple-crayon-colored a make-shift duct-tape dress all in an attempt to have her doll resemble the other dolls the girls brought.

Seriously? I was sick to my stomach as we walked into the book club. Naomi toting this doll under her arm. I had the foreboding sense that the other girls would laugh at her, or sneer with condescension. The gait to my walk was daring someone, anyone, in the room to look down on my kid or curl their lip at her creation because, believe me, I had prepared a few choice words to say about that.

We walked in, sat the doll on the table next to our name tents, and Naomi put her hand on my arm. Are you OK, mommy? her worried eyes asked. And, for a moment, I saw it. She wasn't particularly worried about this doll. She was too busy being concerned about why I was so upset.

Rather than spending the hour like a taut rubber band waiting to snap, which I was fully prepared to do, I looked at those worried eyes and decided to instead focus on my amazing kid. A person who is imaginative, resourceful, and has an enormous heart. She took her turn at that table, talked about this scraggly doll who looked suddenly beautiful to both of us and, at the end of the day, sort of fluffed up feeling both unique and inventive.

There was another little girl, by the way, who didn't have an American Girl doll. She and Naomi huddled up after-wards. The other girl (Bridget) and her mother were duct-tape connoisseurs, I guess. They mentioned that Target carries a plaid duct-tape, and sometimes, sometimes you can find polka-dot patterned duct-tape at Hobby Lobby. Helpful information for Naomi's future fashions.