As part of our new family life routine, I get the drop you off and pick you up from day care every day. I may have mentioned, you LURVE day care. You are fascinated by the sites and the sounds (even if it is a baby losing his/her mind when you arrive) of day care and can. not. wait. to get out of your car seat every morning when I drop you off.
Because there are new faces there! And new sounds! And smells!!! Yes, even THAT smell.
And when I pick you up every night, you're usually in a jump-a-roo or a high chair, happy as a clam either jumping up and down or banging something against the tray to make a ton of noise and delight the eardrums of everyone in the vicinity. Of course, the last couple of days you have not been in the jump-a-roo... since you had a blow-out in it and it has to be laundered. That's right... you're THAT kid. And it cracks me up every time I see the jump-a-roo with the missing seat sitting there... all lonely. Because of you. That's my girl.
Today, however, as I entered day care, I could hear the very unhappy cries of child. Unhappy cries that tore at the heart and, wait a minute... that sounds like.... you! I mean, I could be wrong because I rarely hear you cry these days (unless, you know... I'm trying to suction out your brains through your nose cuz you have another head cold) but it definitely had a familiar ring to it. I assumed if you were crying, it was for a bottle and that maybe the day care worker had miscalculated your feeding time and you were just letting her know. But, no... the crying wasn't stopping. So, instead of going to the front desk and checking you out, I poked my head in to see what was going on.
And that's when I discovered that yes... the little girl losing her ever. loving. mind? You.
And the reason?
Someone touched - TOUCHED - your giraffe. AND DON'T NOBODY TOUCH YOUR GIRAFFE, MKAY?
You might not believe that someone touching your giraffe would be THAT catastrophic and that surely, something else was going on. But when the offender (he might have been 3-years-old) stopped touching your giraffe and walked away? The crying stopped. And my little girl was happy again.
See, this... this is new for us. I didn't realize that you'd developed an attachment to the giraffe. The kind of attachment that would cause your brain to melt when someone looks at it the wrong way. But apparently, you have. This giraffe... this giraffe currently has no name. And we don't even know who to thank for giving it to us because I just found it a few weeks ago stuck in the back of the closet for use when you were old enough to appreciate it.
Guess what? Today? You are old enough to appreciate it. And you're kinda possessive about it.
You're also old enough to appreciate the teether that a friend of mine sent after reading my complaining about not having appropriate-sized teethers for you. (Thanks, Erica!)
This giraffe... well, she DOES have a name. Her name is Sophie and she is adorable. And you absolutely love to chew on her hooves. And don't even get me started on the delight she brings you when I squeeze her and she makes a squeaky sound. I'm still trying to get that particular reaction on film.
Sophie is still lagging behind The Giraffe With No Name in overall popularity. But I think that once more teeth start breaking through, she'll pull ahead.
And I'm not even going to think about how when I was a kid, one of the mean nicknames that other kids gave me (for being the tallest person IN. THE. WORLD. and always being the tip of the peak for class photos) was Giraffe. And now I'm purposely giving giraffes to my baby girl.
My baby girl that is off the charts in length and is now in Stage 3 diapies. For. Real.
That giraffe theme? It continues.
But... keep in mind that to this day? I think giraffe's are beautiful creatures. See? The theme continues with you!!!