Road Signs For Dolls

As befits the daughter of a stay-at-home dad, G has a wide range of boyish sorts of toys. It's not that I've deliberately set out to keep her away from dolls, it's just that an afternoon playing with her train set offers a better prospect of enjoyment for both of us. Which is of course the important thing.

This manifested itself once when, during a call by a health visitor, G completely failed to recognise a doll, and stared at it blankly intstead of brushing its hair as she was supposed to.

I got a sign the other day that G might be getting around this doll denial. When playing trains, she decided that all the signs were sleepy. So she laid them out on the floor and patted them, as shown in the picture.

She then decided that the signs had to kiss each other, so I was treated to the sight of Danger getting cosily intimate with Road Narrows Ahead. Poor G, I should probably give in and let her get a Barbie or something. But maybe not quite yet.

Check Up

G had her 18-month assessment yesterday. A health visitor came round, ostensibly to check up on G's progress, but presumably to check up on me as well. Thankfully, Mrs J helped me make sure the house was more or less tidy, but to be on the safe side I baked some bread beforehand, in the hope the smell would overpower any doubts about my child-rearing ability.

The health visitor gave G a series of basic tests. She successfully matched a few shapes, and sailed through putting blocks on top of each other. G was also well ahead with drawing, having moved beyond doing dots and straight lines, and onto circles. I looked on smugly as the health visitor filled out a chart showing G's development, with ticks consistently above the average for her age.

But when confronted with a doll and told to brush its hair, G just looked blank, and started playing with some other objects instead. Despite several prompts, she showed no interest in the doll whatsoever. In a sense, this is a vindication of my strict anti-pink policy, which has left G far more likely to play with proper toys like building blocks and books instead of silly girly dolls. I suppose I should let her have a few now I've made my point, although I still live in fear of one day finding myself surrounded by Barbie and My Little Pony, a frightening prospect indeed. Might just keep the boyish lego out for a bit longer.