Basking and Babies

Due to popular demand, I am back and feeling much better. Thank you!! I've debated much about what my first new post would be about, but have ultimately decided it's probably not that big of deal! So as I bask in the glow of 13 wonderful comments (some from people whose blogs I visit all the time and never comment on--oops), I will tell you about Tempty.

Tempty arrived Christmas day the year Cabbage Patch Kids were the ultimate wish of all little girls everywhere. I knew I was not getting a Cabbage Patch Kid that year. You know, the budget and stuff. But I couldn't help but hope. I did not look longingly at the JC Penny catalog and pick out the one I wanted most, but I hoped that maybe by some miracle, there would be one wrapped up under the tree. Imagine the joy, the glee, the bliss when my sister and I opened up identical brown boxes to find inside the most beautiful baby Cabbage Patch dolls ever. My parents were tight lipped about where the dolls came from--not from them.

There was a wonderful woman at our church named Edna Mae Harmon. She taught Sunday school and children's church and she was amazing. I couldn't tell you what she looked like, but to this day, I can still feel her hugs. They were huge and soft and warm and smelled so nice. She also collected dolls...

Mr. Xavier Roberts himself had named my baby Florrie Christy. I was not crazy about the name she came to me with, so I meticulously filled out the adoption papers and after much thought named her Amy (such a pretty name) Noel (after me, and because our birthdays were so close) Ewert. I folded the papers and put them in the envelope and continued to call her Florrie until the day her paperwork returned. It was official. She was mine and her name was Amy Noel. It never entered my mind to care that her plastic/fabric skin was dark brown and mine was not. I got a little irritated when her bald preemie head got banged against the wall because it showed every white scuff mark, but otherwise she was perfect.

Over the years I reverted back to calling her Florrie because I got tired of calling her Amy and felt a litte vain about the middle name thing. Eventually, she got put in a box, moved a few times, and taken out occationally. When we were unpacking the house we live in now, I unpacked her along with her cradle and blanket because I had nieces. Then I never got around to putting her away.

Then along came Benton (whose birth certificate I also meticulously filled out). At some point, he adopted the doll. We used it to teach him how to hold a baby while we waited for his brother to arrive. One day, I asked Benton what the baby's name was. He said. "his name is Tempty." And Tempty he remains. Florrie/Amy/Florrie's pretty dresses have been traded in for a blue onsie 6 sizes too big. He has no bed or blanket, but he has been nursed so now he has bottles. Mostly he stays wedged at the bottom of the stuffed animal net in the corner of the boys' room, but every now and then, he makes it out. He gets a few hugs, a few kisses, a few more scuff marks on his prepetually premie head, then he gets put away again.

Every now and then, someone will wander into the boys' room and find Tempty laying around in some sort of dissary and say "Why does your son have a black Cabbage Patch doll?" Well, that's why. And for the record, the boys don't much care that he's brown either.

PS I have resurrected an old blog--because it's hilarious. Did I Just Say That? is now What Did You Say? Dedicated to all the things we parents never thought we would say or hear. Stop in and read a few of the oldies and a couple of new ones too. If you're already a contributor, please keep contributing. If you want to share, let me know and I'll add you to the list!


Cathy said...

Thanks for sharing the story of Florrie! Makes me wonder where Brittany's cabbage patch doll is....I'll have to go hunt her down!

Jessi Reber said...

Wow, I remember Amy Noel!! I remember because I was jealous, because I only had a homemade deal, that was supposed to pass as the real thing. I'm probably the child that lived through the 80's without a Cabbage Patch kid! Oh well - somehow I survived! :)

Sherri said...

It was fun hearing the story again from your perspective I have to send EdnaMae a link she would get a thrill all over again!!
(sorry about my posting name I was At Jessi's first!)

Aly sun said...

It's great to remember. I don't remember what I named mine or if I even still have her. Dolls in our house are in plenty, but the black cabbage patch doll remains a great memory of childhood. For the record, I think it is wonderful that boys play with dolls. We want them to grow up and be amazing fathers some day, so bring on the dolls -- and let them nurse them too.

Jessi Reber said...

Thanks for the link to "background fairy" - very cool! :)

Alicia said...

Oh my, where does Mr. Xavier Roberts come up with those names. I totally remember the name my Cabbage Patch Kid was given; Hedda (or Heada) Flora. Unfortunately, I never sent in the certificate, never renamed her, and frankly, I don't think I ever called her by any name. Anyway, I still have her, but I think she is still in a Rubbermaid container in our shed. Karis has one of her own she got for Christmas last year from her aunt and uncle, so I haven't thought about digging her out. Some day, I guess I'll have to get her out and tell Karis about how mommy had a doll just like hers when I was young. Fun story, thanks for sharing.