WALDORF DOLLS, PIRATE, AND EYE PATCHES
Two of my children had to wear eye patches when they were little, starting at or before age two. Both had slight crossing that was only apparent when they were sick or very tired. They got it from me! We had amblyopia or "lazy eye." My Zachary even had eye surgery when he was 3 years-old. Now, at age 22, he doesn't need even to wear glasses!
My vision problems were not caught until I was 7. There was no noticeable crossing of my eyes but one eye was not even trying to see because of the mismatch of the two images. The patching for the next 3-4 years was horrible from my "point of view"! They were hot, made of latex or something I was allergic to, made the world a dark place because my "good" eye was patched, and were a source of embarrassment. My mother, usually a stickler for honesty, told me that I could make up stories about being a pirate, having my eye poked out by a pointy object, or such, not that I really fooled anyone. But the stories were a comfort to me! Now, they say that patching at that age is too late to be effective.
At least my children didn't have to wear patches often in public, because we home schooled nor when they were as old as I was. They were not always happy to wear the patches but it was more of an annoyance than embarrassment!!
Made eight years ago. She is 4 1/4 inches tall.I have always loved dolls. As a child I didn’t have the latest doll of TV commercials. I never had the walking, talking, Chatty Cathys which I saw at my friends’ houses. Either I knew instinctively that they were overrated or my mother subtlely instilled the idea in me that MY dolls had more play potential because they could say anything I wanted them to say. What my sister and I did have were a few beautiful Madam Alexander dolls: 8 inch Wendy, Baby Genius,
Cisette and 15 inch Elise dressed as a ballerina. They were not just for display either, a concept I abhorred, thinking all dolls should be to play with. I also dearly recall a Betsy McCall doll.
I loved paper dolls too, as I have written about in previous posts. My childhood was very simple
with few toys and a very small uncluttered house but my parents gave me ample paper and permission to cut, color, and glue to my heart’s content. My Grandmother provided fresh wheat paste glue, a stack of old catalogs, and free run of a craft closet. I remember “working” on the front porch of her farm house or in the cool cellar depending on mood and weather.
My mother bought me artist quality watercolors when I was 7 years old or so and my Grandmother bought me set of Windsor Newton colored inks when I was about 10 years old. My dad donated quill pens and showed me how to letter, if not truly calligraphy it was close.
Back to dolls and doll making. I no longer have my earliest doll making attempts. I remember making a cloth doll with the help of an elderly relative. My doll was sort of sad with seams ripping out and stuffing lumpy, etc. So she gave me one of hers. I felt a real kindred to pioneer children, and the stories I loved, when I played with that doll.
The earliest of my doll making efforts to survive is this one that I made when I was about 13. She accidentally got washed in a pocket at some point and lost part of her face and her yarn wool hair felted into dreads. She is almost 40 years old!
