Take a good look at this Cabbage Patch Doll.
She looks remarkably similar to my beloved Kimberly Sue. I “adopted” Kimberly Sue back in 1983, during the mayhem days when mothers would elbow each other and resort to fisticuffs to secure the holy grail…a Cabbage Patch Kid for their kid! My mother had a friend who worked in a neighborhood store. She convinced this woman to “put aside” a doll for me. My Cabbage Patch OBSESSION began…..
I loved Kimberly for many reasons. She was perfect, with her baby powder scent, and her Xavier Roberts signed ass, just the right size for toting around in my seven year old arms, and those adoption papers…..a cute little gimmick, true….but being an adopted child, those papers held a much deeper meaning for me.
This doll, and the wave she rode in on, brought a sense of understanding to the younger masses. Adoption was not something most kids my age understood. Sure, they had heard of it. Annie was adopted by Daddy Warbucks, after all, and we all LOVED Annie! I would try my best to explain my situation to my peers, but it was difficult for them to grasp. Having Annie as their only point of reference meant they wanted to know what life was like in the orphanage, and if my ‘Miss Hannigan’ was as mean as the real thing. How could I get them to understand that I was a newborn baby when I was adopted? How could I get myself to understand???
I felt a strong connection to Cabbage Patch Kids. Sure, I may not have been born underneath a head of cabbage in some mystical garden, but for all I knew that could have been the case. I knew that I could not relate to Annie’s experience, what with her sisterhood of orphans doing flips and singing songs while they toiled away scrubbing floors, and making things as shiny as the Chrysler building. Cabbage Patch Kids were just born, and then put up for adoption. That I could relate to. My seven year old brain was able to use the parallel to explain it to my peers. It felt good that this Cabbage Patch mania had the word adoption attached to it. Validation, maybe? Acceptance, maybe??
My Cabbage Patch clan grew over time to include Jeffrey, Jill, Jordan (my preemie), Melissa, Craig, Felicia, Lisa and Leigh (the twins), Charmer (the horse) and Cuddles (my koosa cat). I would take my little family with me wherever I went, arms tightly clasped around the bunch. I would change their clothes, and diapers, and bring them to play dates at my friends’ houses. My friend Jennifer who lived next door had her own expanded family, and our ‘kids’ would play together regularly. Her twins Vickie and Mickie were best friends with my twins. Her Carl was best buds with my Jeffrey. Thus, we wasted away hours upon hours in our pseudo world of Cabbage Patch love. Our introduction to motherhood. Ahhh, those were good days.
On a recent visit to my parents’ house I discovered that the box containing my tribe had vanished from the hall closet. I interrogated the family. Where are my Cabbage Patch Kids? What have you done with them, dammit? I WANT MY DOLLS!!!! No one seemed to take this too seriously. They would not confirm my worst suspicions that my dolls were tossed out with the rest of the clutter. I managed to rescue my cheerleading uniform, my New Kids on the Block ticket stubs, and Cuddles, the koosa, from the same fate.
My Cabbage Patch Kids are gone. That one strong, concrete connection to my childhood…gone. Those beautiful yarn haired, hard faced, soft bodied friends….gone.
For some occasion years ago, my parents bought me a gold Cabbage Patch Kid charm to wear on a necklace. I dug this out a few weeks ago, and wore it in memory of my beloved friends.
I love you Kimberly Sue!
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