Last week the younger two went through a day-long "doll phase", where they were exceedingly pleased by carting around their own little baby dolls and fussing over them.
I realized that Jamie, out of all the boys, has played with dolls the least. He has never cared for his own little "baby" before. Diego tended his Baby Air-Pump and Truen had Baby Lamby. And Eliah has his little Tiny Baby that he is so pleased with.
(Though I should remember, Jamie has snuggled and tended to real babies outside of the family more than any of his brudders.) (And very tenderly I might add.) (Conversely, let us also not forget his "Attack Baby" phase between the ages of 12-24 months when he assailed any baby smaller than him.) (I had to hover to protect any babies within range.)
So there the Littles were, tending their babies. Jamie had to change untold poop diapers and Eliah was so proud to carry his baby around and snuggle it. It was such a novelty that I took pictures and helped make little diapers and outfits for each of their babies.
By afternoon, Jamie started wrestling with his doll (a freaky-looking old one of mine, totally bald, with plastic arms and a big plastic head). Wrestling turned into brawling and brawling turned into a full-out assault on the doll, who was pinned down and pummeled. He was absolutely beating it up. With deluxe sound effects.
Not too long after that, he was holding it by the arm and leg and pretending it was an underwater bazooka, shooting big missiles across the room, spittle flying out of his mouth with the force of the sound effects.
I tell you. Nature vs. Nurture? I just don't see any way around it.
1 comment:
A pleasure to read. (From near London, England).
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