Today,
I ran over a small puppy in the name of love.
Before you panic and call PETA, please note that it was a stuffed pink
puppy. I also stepped on it with snowy
boots and dunked him in the dog’s water bowl a few times. Did it work?
Nope. How did I find myself
behind the wheel of my Honda Odyssey carefully steering towards the tiny
creature, ensuring the tire rolled squarely over his squishy head? Let me start at the beginning.
When my
oldest was born, I bought her an adorable stuffed blankie with the head of a
bear attached. It was your typical
lovey. I stuck it in my daughter’s crib
and carried it around as instructed by child-rearing experts in hopes that she
would become enamored with this stuffed critter and let me sleep for a solid
four hours on occasion. Fortunately, she
did eventually attach to a lovey, but unfortunately, it was a gift, and not the
one I purchased for her. The only problem with this is that once your
child has a lovey, you need a backup. I
searched on amazon, at target, babies r us, walmart, and even posted photos of
the little animal on Facebook in hopes of finding a suitable duplicate, but to
no avail. (As a sidebar, when my daughter turned 5, I spotted her exact lovey
in the checkout line of Kohls. Of
course, she no longer needed a duplicate at this point, and of course, I lacked
the self-restraint to refrain from cursing out loud at the stupidity of my
five-year younger self not checking Kohls).
Until
your child turns two, the duplicate isn’t critical, but once your darling
little one begins to play more independently, she will leave her lovey in the
oddest places. Some places to search
when this happens to you include: the drawer where you store the fancy
silverware you’ve never used, the bottom of the trash can, inside the dog’s
kennel, wedged inside a sippy cup in the back of a cabinet, inside your printer
(which also explains why the paper wasn’t loading properly), inside the winter
boots you never wear because they have a 2-inch heel and who would ever wear
that in snow?, and in the crisper drawer of the refrigerator. You won’t realize the lovey is missing until
bedtime, and when you come up empty-handed after a cursory search, your child
will throw all substitutions you offer back in your face, then scream at an
ear-piercing tenor throughout the next hour while you and your spouse
frantically tear the house to pieces before finding the dang toy. And by that point, your toddler will be so
worked up that she won’t fall asleep for another two hours.
As an
experienced mom, I opted to avoid this drama with my third child by only
offering her a lovey when I already owned an identical substitution. I rotated the loveys weekly, or more often if
the laundry-situation permitted, keeping both copies of the stuffed animal in
identical shape, form, and faded color.
Unfortunately, one day, I made the mistake of letting Katherine “help”
me with the laundry, only to see her eyes light up like it was Christmas a
moment later as she spotted the clone.
“Two
doggies!” She shrieked happily,
clutching both versions of her animal.
Before I had a chance to explain, she sprinted out of the laundry room,
giggling maniacally and running consecutive victory laps around the house
waving her two dogs in the air. I
conceded the loss quickly and set about finding a third clone. I eventually found one on Amazon, but it
apparently had to be shipped from the
amazon, because it didn’t arrive for another month.
Today,
I had the brilliant idea to throw one of Katherine’s doggies into the laundry
shortly before nap, intending to offer the brand new doggie fresh out of its
plastic shipping bag as a replacement.
Despite the fact that the nursery was dark and I waited until she was
half asleep to offer it, Katherine immediately noticed the swap and, without
going in to details, suffice it to say she was NOT okay with it. So I dragged her old dirty doggie out of the
laundry, blasted him with the hair dryer for a few minutes until he was no
longer sopping wet, and stuck it in the crib with her before beginning my work
on the new doggie clone.
I’ve
commented countless times on how hard it is to keep things clean in a house
with three small children. But
apparently, it’s equally hard to get something dirty. I tried to envision exactly what it was
Katherine does to these poor stuffed dogs daily to give them that dullish grey
film rather than the glossy pink fluff coating the new doggie, and that led me
to the dog’s water bowl and a muddy boot.
But when those ideas failed, I realized that the grime on her primary
doggies was cumulative, and not completely erased by our regular washings. Hence the road-kill experiment with the minivan.
Did it
work? I sure hope so. But we’ll find out for sure tonight when
Doggy No. 3 sneaks its way into her crib.
