The Bratz are now Baby Mommaz. Yes, the hooker-in-training dolls have children. Bratz are the main reason I do not keep a supply of bricks around the house, because everytime the commercials come on I wish to pitch something kiln-fired through the screen so hard it beans the toy exec who greenlighted these hootchie toys. The Baby Bratz are as bad as you can imagine: “Bottles with Bling.”
The Insta-Daughter has emerged from her Bratz phase (some Bratz-blogging from back in the day here and here: "And if you don't know about the Bratz, well, it just means that you're in the wrong demographic. Relax, you're not missing much.")
The good news is that after Bratz you get The Sims, which teaches a variety of constructive life lessons that Bratz don't offer.