each of our kids has an item-"dolly" for the girl, "lovey" for the boy-that can never, ever be absent for sleeping. they must have this item or all hell breaks loose.
the smartest thing i ever did with my daughter was buying two back-up dollies. the three dollies were in constant rotation. this worked because dolly was about $10 and we could afford to invest in two extras several weeks apart.
the boy, however, is another story. his lovey was pricier. i thought he would be able to live without lovey sooner rather than later so i never bothered investing in a back up. i was wrong. lovey is indispensable. lovey is a sleep aid. a comfort. lovey is necessary.
a few weeks ago i mentioned that i think the boy gets sick so often because of lovey. not only is lovey necessary, lovey is also a dust rag, something to be thrown onto the ground when pissed about having to be strapped into the stroller. lovey is a pacifier. lovey is a petri dish. lovey looks like hell from repeated washing.
my step-mom hunted down a new lovey for the boy. it is lovely. so soft! so sweet smellling. so un-dingy. so intact.
the boy wants nothing to do with new lovey. we try. "heeeeer's lovey!" we say, as if we are introducing johnny carson. harry reaches out for it because he is addicted to lovey but once he realizes that this soft piece of fabric is not the lovey, he throws it to the floor and demands, like the two year old he is, that we give him the right scrap of fabric.
we keep at it, offering new lovey every time we were doling out comfort items. there is no fooling him. he touches new lovey and quickly tosses it aside, insulted that we would have the gall to offer him something so foul.
last night, i washed both loveys together and we finally got him to take new and old lovey together. i think we are wearing him down. it's either that or he senses my despair and is giving his mother a break.
probably the former.
the smartest thing i ever did with my daughter was buying two back-up dollies. the three dollies were in constant rotation. this worked because dolly was about $10 and we could afford to invest in two extras several weeks apart.
the boy, however, is another story. his lovey was pricier. i thought he would be able to live without lovey sooner rather than later so i never bothered investing in a back up. i was wrong. lovey is indispensable. lovey is a sleep aid. a comfort. lovey is necessary.
a few weeks ago i mentioned that i think the boy gets sick so often because of lovey. not only is lovey necessary, lovey is also a dust rag, something to be thrown onto the ground when pissed about having to be strapped into the stroller. lovey is a pacifier. lovey is a petri dish. lovey looks like hell from repeated washing.
my step-mom hunted down a new lovey for the boy. it is lovely. so soft! so sweet smellling. so un-dingy. so intact.
the boy wants nothing to do with new lovey. we try. "heeeeer's lovey!" we say, as if we are introducing johnny carson. harry reaches out for it because he is addicted to lovey but once he realizes that this soft piece of fabric is not the lovey, he throws it to the floor and demands, like the two year old he is, that we give him the right scrap of fabric.
we keep at it, offering new lovey every time we were doling out comfort items. there is no fooling him. he touches new lovey and quickly tosses it aside, insulted that we would have the gall to offer him something so foul.
last night, i washed both loveys together and we finally got him to take new and old lovey together. i think we are wearing him down. it's either that or he senses my despair and is giving his mother a break.
probably the former.
2 Comments:
so glad he got a new lovey, i looked on line and couldn't find one that was the same, i just wasn't sure. Just keep washing the new lovey, maybe its the smell of the laundry detergent that he likes. either that or he just likes rags and junk. You gotta love that baby boy.
have the same problem with my boy. he has a blue blanket that was his when he was an infant. I never used it on him, just for various cushioning. everytime I try to make it disappear, he asks for it.
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