Dollhouse dramas

It took me many hours of therapy and journaling to finally get to the point where I can say without too much guilt: I have a difficult time playing with my kid.

I have only just recently been able to acknowledge that as a 33-year-old woman it is OK to not enjoy playing dollhouse for more than 10 minutes or playing grocery store for more than 15. I am not supposed to find the same things entertaining as what my preschooler does. I suspect I would be in a special home if I felt otherwise.

Despite this recognition, I still feel badly when I zone out 10+ minutes into our playtimes. Like I am wasting our precious quality time. I am not carpe diem(ing) enough.

I suspect some of this perverted view of quality time developed when N was an infant and I was having to perform physical therapy on her. Our playtime was our therapy time, and I was obsessive about doing her therapy (and therefore playing with her). Just being in the same area or house with her and letting her do her own thing wasn't enough. Being in her face all the time was required.

She is at the stage where she wants me to do what she wants me to do. If we are playing dollhouse and I make the daddy doll go work on the computer, if that isn't what she intended daddy doll to do, she lets me know about it and fast. But if I just sit there holding the daddy doll, she gets frustrated because I am not playing (which she fails to understand I was trying to do before she told me I couldn't do what I wanted with daddy doll).

Her latest thing is having her little girl doll swipe toys from the baby and then have me (as mommy doll) resolve the dispute. This would be ok if Goldilocks (what we call the little girl) only did it once. But she is a persistent little shit who continues to steal baby's toys despite mommy doll's reprimands.

OK, so in addition to disciplining my own child in real life, I am also expected to discipline her dolls in pretend. And not just once but 6,7,8 times or more.

The dolls also play hide and seek in the dollhouse, which is enjoyable the first couple times. However, once we start nearing double digits I've about had enough. It is a dollhouse...there are only so many places to hide.

This afternoon N had the mommy doll and daddy doll fighting over who got to sit in the recliner. It went something like this:

Daddy Doll (sitting in the recliner)
Mommy Doll (at the door) -- "Daddy, can I come in the library?"
Daddy Doll (jumps out of the recliner and kicks the door shut) -- "No, you can't come in!"
Mommy Doll (walks outside crying) -- "Boohooo. Boo-hooo-hooo."
Daddy Doll (comes outside) -- "Why are you crying?"
Mommy Doll (turns to him) -- "Because you wouldn't let me sit in the recliner."
Daddy Doll -- "Ok, I'll share."

Then N looks at me and says "Now Mommy sits in the recliner."

Mommy Doll (sitting in the recliner)
Daddy Doll (at the door) -- "Mommy, can I come in the library?"
Mommy Doll (jumps out of the recliner and kicks the door shut) -- "No, you can't come in!"

And over and over and over ad nauseam.

I guess since she doesn't have a sibling she is getting her rivalry out through her dolls. And let the record show D and I have never argued over who got to sit in which chair in the house.

Sometimes I wish I was a bug on the wall in other people's houses so I could see how they play and interact with their kids (and for how long before zoning out or finding something to do around the house to get them out of being a playmate for even a few minutes).

I want to relish this time as her favorite playmate because I know it is short-lived, but I don't know how much more I can handle of the dollhouse dramas.