I'm going to come right out and say it: I had eight Cabbage Patch Kids, and I still know all their names.
I didn't get all these dolls during the initial Cabbage Patch craze of 1983 when they were impossible to find for reasonable money (back when parents were punching each other to buy them as Christmas gifts). My dad was a teacher, and my mom was in grad school. No way could they pay that much money or spend that much time waiting in line. Instead, I got brown-haired, brown-eyed Chrissy in 1984 from my grandma. From then on, every birthday and Christmas, my family expanded — right up until I was too old to want to play dolls anymore.
Like a lot of Gen Xers and Elder Millennials, I learned a lot about love from my Cabbage Patch Kids. Lucky for my real kids, I had these dolls as practice babies. Besides discovering that you might accidentally conk your kid on the head if you swing them around by the foot, I learned more nuanced lessons about what it means to nurture someone. These are a few of the big ones.
Sometimes Only You Think Your Baby Is Cute
When I first tore the wrapping paper off of Chrissy in her classic yellow Cabbage Patch Kid box and peered in through the plastic window on the front, I thought she was beautiful and perfect. But my grandma, who had shelled out for the doll because of the hype, was almost apologetic for her gift. "That doll is the homeliest thing I've ever seen in my life," she said, shaking her head sadly.
She wasn't alone in this view either. With their pudgy faces, close-set eyes, and small, bulbous noses, they were famously ugly. People said they had a "face only a mother would love." No matter how adorable I thought Chrissy was, I knew not everyone was quite as charmed by her appearance.
Years later, when I had my own babies, I thought about that. There were points when my kids had cradle cap and baby acne and an endless stream of spit-up spewing from their mouths. I still found them beautiful, but that didn't feel at all weird to me. My Cabbage Patch Kids had taught me that adoring a child makes that child adorable. And lucky for my kids, they outgrew their awkwardness and really did become cute.
Every Child Is Unique
Each Cabbage Patch Kid was unique. It said so right on the box. They all came with adoption papers listing their basic details; supposedly, the names were never reused (clearly, by the late 80s when I adopted Dagmar Glenna, the company had gotten pretty desperate to come up with unique names). In a decade when fitting in actually mattered a lot to kids, the dolls celebrated being one-of-a-kind.
When I had my first baby, he turned out to have autism and a unique and beautiful perspective to go with it. My second baby was completely different. I like to think that playing with dolls that were proud of being unique helped me embrace my kids' special differences.
Related: 8 Vintage Cabbage Patch Dolls Worth a Fortune Today
Being a Mom Takes a Lot of Improvisation
When my sister and I played with our Cabbage Patch Kids, it was basically a giant game of improv. One of us would suggest a new idea or have something happen to our "kid," and the story and game would grow from there. Those improvisation skills are ultra-important for parenting real kids.
Being a parent means thinking on your feet a lot. Whether it's figuring out how to deal with teen drama or talking a toddler down from their latest tantrum, quick problem-solving is key. All those made-up problems of playing dolls are great practice for the real-world problems of real kids.
Maternal Love Has a Strong Sensory Component
Anyone who has ever held a baby knows parenting involves all your senses. While Cabbage Patch Kids might not wake you with their crying or make you endure terrible diaper blow-outs, they have a sensory component, too.
The soft, huggable bodies and baby powder-scented hair of my dolls are clearly linked to love for me. Even now, the scent of baby powder makes me think of them. Same goes for real babies. There are certain scents and textures that let you time travel back to when your kids were tiny.
Real Love Lasts Forever
As I was beginning to outgrow dolls, I felt a kind of panic. I didn't want to play with my Cabbage Patch Kids the way I had before, but I still loved them just as much. It felt like such a loss. I promised my "kids" that I'd never get rid of them, but I worried that I'd never really love anything the way I loved them.
Of course, that wasn't true. As a tween outgrowing my dolls, I couldn't quite imagine the lump-in-your-throat, absolute love a mom can feel for her real babies. But I did know I'd never stop loving my dolls, and I was right.
Speaking of love, how much you loved your Cabbage Patch Kids probably affects their monetary value. The most valuable dolls are the ones that didn't see a lot of playtime. If you adored yours, their value will be mostly sentimental (and that's significant, too).
I'll Always Be Grateful to My First "Kids"
Being a mom to Cabbage Patch Kids couldn't fully prepare me for the rigors and joys of real parenting, but it did give me a basic idea of what it's like to nurture and deeply love as a mom. Chrissy, Emelita, Dagmar Glenna, and their siblings are tucked away in a storage bin, their faces peering placidly through the clear plastic, but they're also safely stored in my heart. I'll always be grateful to my first "kids."
