Whatever Happened to Paper Dolls?

A couple of weeks ago, I was in a book store searching high and low for paper dolls. I wanted to buy some for a friend's daughters, but I couldn't find any.

What has happened to paper dolls? Do they even exist anymore?

Since I have a son, this is something I probably won't be thinking about in the future, so I gotta find out now. A quick online search for paper dolls shows they're still out there, but not at any major retailer; unless you count the static cling kind and I don't.

When I was growing up, my sister (Ms. W) and I had paper dolls. (By the time my two youngest sisters were old enough to play with these delicate dolls, they weren't cool anymore.) Me and Ms. W spent many hours cutting or punching out the dolls and their outfits. Oh the horror if you accidentally trimmed off one of the flaps that keeps the paper garment on! The whole outfit would be ruined if the shirt only clung to one shoulder!

Some of the dolls were really challenging to cut out and I became quite skilled with a pair of round-tip scissors. Some were perforated, which made them faster to remove from their page but more susceptible to rips.

Ms. W and I would sit on the floor with our paper girls and all of their outfits fanned out around us. It would take a lot of time and planning to get them ready for whatever the occasion was. Maybe it was a wedding or a birthday party, or maybe even trip to the store. It took whole weekends to set up our paper dolls, just to move on to something else after we were done staging. What was the appeal?

We had paper versions of Barbie and all her clothes, intricate Victorian-era paper dolls, Princess Di and her fabulous wedding gown, and lots more. One of my favorites (and I think she was Ms. W's favorite, too) was Butterscotch. She had a cute blonde bob and the most fashionable clothes. My sister and I would fight over her all the time.

A quick search on our amazing Internet found her!

Now that I see the "fashionable" clothes, I feel old.

The best outfit was the Laverne-and-Shirley-style monogrammed sweater and plaid skirt combo. There's a lot of plaid going on here.

We also loved The Ginghams. These sets came with a "room" to play in; I think we had them all. We were spoiled. One of the rooms was a pet shop, and we'd fight over it.

Here it is!

Someone has a whole Web site devoted to these paper dolls, which are from the late '70s, early '80s. I loved Carrie because we shared a name, even if it was spelled different.
I guess real paper dolls are out there...on the Web. Sure, you can find anything on the Internet, but you have WAIT for it. I'm not that good of a planner...or that patient, really, and a lot of these so-called paper dolls are actually online versions. "Click to dress" is not what I was thinking.

I want the real thing -- the finger slicing, shoulder-tensing, eye-straining, fight-causing real paper dolls, darn it!

Then again, I'm not sure what I'd do with them...

You've Got Therapy

The other night, "You've Got Mail" -- my all time FAVORITE movie -- was on TV. It was perfect timing as we are going through a particularly difficult sleep situation with T Junior and I needed something to soothe my brain.

It wasn't that popular of a film, although it has two of the most famous actors of all time in it, Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, and they have the best movie chemistry ever.

Here they are being perfect.

The story has it's flaws, but who's perfect? Actually, the reason I love this movie is for more than the acting or even the story. It's such a PRETTY movie. Most of it takes place in the fall and during the holiday season in New York.

First, there are amazingly beautiful foliage scenes and then it's winter and there are twinkling Christmas lights and people in fabulous coats and scarfs, and holiday music. It's a romanticized version of the Big Apple, but still...

And then, there are the books. I love books. My house is chock-full of them. Some, I've read. Some, I plan to read. Some, I'm in the process of reading. And, I'll be honest, some of them will never get their stiff little bindings cracked. But I like having them around anyway.

Ryan being perfect in her quaint store.

"Mail," which is loosely based on the 1940 film "The Shop Around the Corner," is about a woman, Ryan, who owns a little children's bookshop that is being threatened by big, bad Fox Books -- a mega-sized book chain. Of course, Hanks owns Fox Books. Meanwhile, Ryan is carrying on a cyber friendship with a man she's never met and who happens to be, you guessed it, Hanks. Hanks finds out his Internet love interest is Ryan, who is doing her best to give Fox Books some negative PR. But, as everyone knows (duh) there's no such thing as bad press and, sadly, Ryan must close her adorable store. Hanks feels bad and decides to try to win Ryan's heart before she finds out he is her e-mail soulmate, as she would surely reject him. In the end, Hanks's plan works and Ryan is glad it is him when they "meet" on the little trail in the park with "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" playing in the background. Yeah, the end is kinda cheesy. But, I eat it up.

I forgive this scene because I heart the rest of the movie.

For me, "YGM" is therapy. Some people take bubble baths. Others may exercise (who are those people?). Some lost souls find solace in the bottle. I get mine in a CD player.

Oh No, The Places He'll Go

T Junior is getting ready to move. He recently sat up on his own and now he's up on his hands and knees rocking back and forth -- just willing himself to go, go, go!

Mr. T and I are afraid.

Every time I look around I see all the things he'll be getting into unless we take preemptive measures.

First, there's the situation with our entire floor. We have three dogs. They go outside, they potty outside. Sometimes they step in poop. We wipe their feet, but what does that really do? After the whole salmonella scare, I'm just dreading T Junior crawling around on our germ-infested floor. I see a steam cleaner in our future -- maybe under the tree.

Then, there's the situation with the Christmas tree. Sure it's fake, but it's really pokey. (We know. Mr. T and I stripped more than the 1,000 wound-in, clipped-on lights off of this originally-pre-lit tree because many of the light strings were no longer working. Our hands looked like we went outside and scraped our knuckles over the asphalt a few times.) And, what about the ornaments and the hooks? Not to mention the lights and the fake "needles" that fall off. Ugh.

Mr. T is dreading the baby-proofing job that is in store. I'm dreading it, too (not that he'll let me help, but that I'll have to deal with the attitude. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about, mister.)

We also have stairs. Oh, joy. Our old-fashioned baby gate -- you know the wood and plastic contraption that looks like a finger-pinching nightmare -- had to be put away because we think the rickety sound was causing one of the dogs to have near-death panic attacks. So, we'll be needing one or two or three new ones.

Looking at our living room right now is frightening. (See below for Exhibits A, B and C.) We have bookshelves with heavy cookbooks and a huge TV on top of it. Then, there's the fireplace tools, a billion of my shoes, a large coffee table with sharp corners and all kinds of no-no baby stuff on it. Plugs. Cords. A wine rack (egads!). Ouchy heating vents, the dog water bowl. Dog toys! Kitchen cupboards. Recycling. Trash can.

I'm exhausted already.

The I'm-Too-Tired-To-Write Post

T Junior has a cold, which means we're all suffering. I'm too tired to blog, so I'm posting some cute pictures instead.

Six months!

This turtle needs a talking-to.


Peas are gross.


Post-bath sleepiness.