Tuesday, February 14, 2006
The baby (TM)is now two-years-old. She is an excellent talker and a all-around funny child. She also has a bizarre security object-tags. She prefers the tags that come on pillows and the like. You know the kind. The white, rectangular crisp ones. She rubs her arms, hands and fingers over them and sucks on her tongue to fall asleep or calm herself. You can hear the "Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk" in the baby monitor as she sleeps. She particularly prizes two toys that have large, crunchy tags. We call these toys "taggy bear" and taggy dolly." Recently, I had strep throat. When I went into her room to tuck her in for the night, I covered myself with a blanket because I had chills (one might ask why I wasn't in bed with Dr. Bean tucking her in, but that's another post). She saw the blanket and wanted me to take it off. I told her "Mommy's sick. I need the blanket." She said "You need taggy. Here, take taggy bear." That's alot of empathy for a baby. Maybe she'll be a psychiatrist. Or a hooker.