Guys and Dolls -- Guys and Cars

Some kids talk to their dolls. Patrick and Isaac have their very own babies, they picked them out themselves. We were in Target when I was pregnant with Sam and I wanted to buy them stuffed dogs. "Baby Baby!" they exclaimed. Indeed, the stuffed animals were across the aisle from the dolls. I tried to ask for their opinion on dogs, but they kept looking at the babies. "Baby! Baby!" So we went home with two dogs and two babies. They took care of the babies in the weeks ahead, putting them to bed and feeding them their little bottles. We talked about babies and what they did and the new baby coming soon. But the babies weren't carried around like the doggies and eventually the favorite part of the babies was throwing their hats.

These kids talk to their cars. We have cars. LOTS of cars. Hot Wheels and Matchbox and cereal box. And even though the twins don't play dolls, they do play cars. Their cars drive and crash, go too fast and too slow, get stuck in the muck and break. But they also eat and drink. They cry and get hurt, they get band-aids and go to the hospital. They get sick and don't feel good and barf repeatedly (complete with sound effects I could do without.) When we moved their cars spent a lot of time "finding our Minnesota house." Cars go on picnics and go to people's houses. The cars get sad every once in a while and want their 'car friends'. Of course they also go to the Target store, and the grocery store. They get lost and run into 'dead ends'. Every once in a while the cars 'try' unsuccessfully to find the train store. Sometimes, their cars hit each other and get in trouble, but they also say I'm sorry and give hugs.

I find I really love it. I get to give the cars kisses and hugs and car food (the only food the cars seem to get.) And I see them re-enact their joys and concerns and good times and bad times, hashing them out and generally having a lot of fun. Cars are cool.