Does your child have a lovey? Or did they have one and it’s now tucked away in your attic? My big kid had Bob. Before he could say many words he called him “Ba” – so we named him “Bob” and that was that.
My son wasn’t sleeping well, and one night I took the tank top I was wearing to bed and left it with him in his crib. I had read someplace that my smell would be comforting, so I decided to try it. The next morning my shirt was wet – he had been sucking on it. A friend had given him one of those blankets with the stuffed heads, so I put it under my shirt (so it would smell like me), and let him sleep with it that night. He slept much better, and started carrying it around the house. We rotated it with two others that were the same color, but he preferred one, and he became Bob.
Bob was so important that I went on ebay and found a twin. I probably paid 3 times the value, but since I couldn’t find Bob in a store I went for it. I washed Bob2 in every load of clothes for a week or so, until he looked like Bob1. Then I took a deep breath and swapped them. My son didn’t notice – score!
So we rotated the two Bobs, making sure he didn’t notice that there were two, so we could keep swapping them to be washed. We did this until around age five (by now Bob was only a bedtime friend) when my son accidentally got them both at once. I held my breath, afraid he would be upset, but he held them up and yelled – “There are two!!”
At some point we told him Bob could no longer leave the house, and then on his own he only slept with him. One day we were cleaning out old stuffed animals and toys and he told me he didn’t want Bob anymore, so I put them in the attic. He gave it up on his own. His brother didn’t like loveys, and didn’t need them as he was content to twirl his hair with his right hand while sucking two fingers on his left. Thankfully he gave that habit up on his own, and now only occasionally twirls his hair.
When we were living in Memphis I was driving my (former lovey-loving) son to his drum lesson, and we were really low on gas. So I pulled into a gas station I never visit, and there in front of me was a pink lovey, a monkey. I took her picture and posted it on the East Memphis Moms Facebook page, knowing that this dirty pink monkey could be someone’s Bob. Before I finished pumping my gas someone had posted that it was her daughters. That’s so cool. I’m so glad I could help Dorothy get her friend back.