This Old House

I bought my granddaughter this Fisher Price Dollhouse when she was about two years old. It stayed on the playroom floor for more than a year and she played with it for brief periods, eventually giving the dolls their permanent identities as daddy, mommy, Nana, Daba (her name for grandpa) and a few other relatives. After awhile, I noticed she was 'done with it', ignoring it for at least a month. Instead of 'throwing it away' I crammed it into a space in a closet and we both forgot about it. Yesterday, she came across one of the peoples that lived in that house. "I wanna play dollhouse Nana," she told me. (And she did 'wanna') The 'play' was extremely rewarding to listen to while I folded laundry and made myself busy. It is so rewarding (a good word) to observe a child at 'play'. A year ago, she was making the dollhouse people continually fall off the roof, but today there was an entertaining 'soap opera' dialog between the plastic people. Kenz plays 'out loud'. Her voice carries throughout the house and varies in tones, depending on what the dolls, animals or vehicles are saying. One name she was repeatedly using was ---"sweetie". Her people were calling each other 'sweetie' in a sweet nurturing way. Oh yes, there were conflicts (dolls falling and crying), but like the thirty minute sitcoms, her dilemmas magically resolved, as she engaged in the dramas for what seemed like--- hours. I actually don't know how much time went by because that is the nature of play. It's like being in a flow state, where time stands still and nothing exists except the creativity of the mind at 'work'. It's the absolute best thing in the world for a child to play.