Taking Care of Anna

Since we didn't observe Halloween this year, I don't have any pictures of our kids in cute costumes... But I do have some pictures of my Meg in cute normal clothes, which she often wears to play a role called "Anna's Mommy."

Anna is Meg's dearest baby doll. Meg loves taking care of Anna, and we love to watch her do it. Until recently, taking care of Anna primarily involved two activities. The first was taking her clothes off and asking Mommy to put them back on--many times a day. The second was putting Anna down for naps--many times a day. To watch Meg prepare Anna for a nap is to observe our family's evening ritual writ small. First, tuck Anna in under a mountain of blankets and whisper a prayer ("Dear Father, thank you God Anna, amen."). Next, turn on the fan, turn off the lights, and say, "Night-night, seep tight, see you tomahyah!". Finally, exit the room and close the door.

Of course, Anna doesn't always nap in bed. In fact, she usually takes one nap a day in the new bookcase in Daddy and Mommy's room. The bookcase is one of these Ikea jobs: three narrow cabinets, with three shelves each and glass doors, screwed together to make one big bookcase. I'm not sure why, but the very first time Meg saw the bookcase, she ran for Anna. In a moment, she returned, opened the door of the middle cabinet, laid Anna down gently on the middle shelf (which is almost exactly as wide as Anna is long), and closed the door. This ritual has continued, and occasionally results in Mommy being banished from her own room, with admonitions to keep quiet for sleeping Anna's sake.

Recently, taking care of Anna has expanded beyond bedtime routines. New activities include nursing Anna (although how she manages to latch on through Meg's onesie is a plain mystery to me), feeding her "milk" from a vinegar cruet (see above), and cooking meals for her. This last act of service was inspired by a gift Meg received yesterday: a just-her-size apron and chef's hat with pink trim, and coordinating oven mitt, hot pad, and kitchen towel. (Thanks, Shannon! It's a huge hit!) Meg employs these accessories at her play-kitchen with great relish, cooking up heaven-knows-what kind of delicacies for her baby's dining pleasure.

I enjoy watching my daughter engage in pretend play--there is good in that alone! Even more, I am grateful to watch her blossom out in tenderness and nurturing. For now, the object of her affection is only a small, perpetually smiling, plastic doll. But the day will come when there are real people looking to Meg for help--people, perhaps, who need her to meet needs like the ones she imagines Anna has. So maybe the acts that she practices now--even the details of putting a dolly to sleep--are more than just play. Maybe someday these little blossoms of compassion will ripen into real fruit, fruit with names like "patience," "kindness," "faithfulness," and "gentleness".

"I'm a good Mommy to my Anna," Meg often reminds us. We have to agree. And it's a good place to start.