The Stinkiest Lovie in all the Land

Once upon a time, we had no kids.  We were blissfully unaware of the smells to come.  We were pregnant with twins and receiving lovely gifts and not really sure what would be lovingly used to death or casually set aside in a pile to give away.


The first little lovies they had didn’t really get used, but they were around.

We never knew before these kids were even born that when we received two engraved lamby lovies as gifts from my boss (he said each of his 4 daughters had one and still have the remnants even though they are all young women now) that these stinkbombs would be the most important material possessions in our lives two years later.


THIS is a lovie. Ours happen to be lambs, but they come in all animal types.

This is before it all got really serious.  Back in the days when I would calmly place them in the pack n’ plays and hope they maybe got some comfort from them.


My girl slept like a frog.


My girl leaned toward a pacifier for comfort and my boy leaned in for the lovie.  The lovie is shoved in his mouth and some even call it a “teething blanket” but I call it a miracle.  It happened seemingly overnight, but at some point, the lovie became a part of the family.  A friend.  A confidant.  A partner in crime.  A go-to guy when you have a good joke.  And he wanted in on all the action.

For months I insisted he be only for naps and nighttime.  But then as car rides became increasingly difficult, we found out almost by accident that Lamby calmed EVERYBODY down.  Have you ever been driving down the highway at 80 miles per hour with two screaming 9 month olds in the back? You will do WHATEVER IT TAKES to calm things down.


Well you know what they say, “give them an inch, they swim all over you!” and it’s true.  He (and I mean he because my girl pretty much will take hers just because he has his, but she’s not nearly as attached) became obsessed with Lamby. Wanting him around close to all the time.  So we have had to come to compromise.

Our awesome Nanny, Nikki, is on board with our plan and it is working out pretty damn well lately if I do say so myself.  Lamby is left in bed as long as can be tolerated.  He’s brought out in times of distress or long car travel (OR AIRPLANES) and for a little bit before naps and bedtime to help calm down.  He’s not brought outside or on outings or used just for the hell of it.  He’s used when we need to bring in the big guns.  I MAY hide him in my bag on certain outings when I know we may need him later on, but I really try to use in only in case of emergency.  I want them to learn to cope on their own little by little as we grow up together.


Lamby works like a freaking charm.

I foolishly bought replacement or IMPOSTER LAMBIES and even washed them 5 times to get them to kind of resemble the OG lambies, but NO GO. HOW DARE YOU MADAM is pretty much what my boy said to me the few times I offered.  I wanted to keep extra lovies in the car because, well, I’m forgetful and lazy sometimes.  BUT NO WAY.  So the replacements sit in the closet waiting for the day that we GOD FORBID lose one or one gets so demolished it needs to be replaced and then we will have to have a serious come to jesus moment about the loss.

This boy is addicted.  I can’t say as I blame him. I mean, I know nothing of addiction (!) but I’m pretty sure it’s used as comfort and a way to cope as long as it works and when it stops working and doesn’t help you anymore you have to make a choice.  You gotta give up the thing that used to give you so much comfort and find other coping mechanisms.

BUT NOT TODAY.  No way.  My kids are little.  Lamby is a valued member of this family.  And I love him.

Lamby’s ear is falling off, So of course Nikki patched him up, gave him a bandaid and then my girl needed a bandaid for her lamby too.

I love his rotten smell and his threadbare body and his scratched off eyes.  I love his ripped ear and torn heart patch.  I love that every week when I wash him to get rid of the saliva and slime from my boy and we have a discussion about why lamby has to take a bath and even though he smells clean (HALLELUJAH) for like, 5 precious minutes, he will smell like my boy in no time flat.

There was a period of time where he would get SO MAD AT ME and yell and scream whenever I washed lamby no matter what smell or non smell I used.  He has matured now (WINK) at the ripe age of 2 and understands more.  It will be OK.  It’s a forgiveness really, of lamby and of me, each time he succumbs and decides maybe it’s not so bad after all to have a clean lamby.

But most of all what I love is the absolute comfort he gives my boy and through him, my girl, and through them, US.  We all get comfort from lamby because he is a giver.  He is there when somebody falls down or when somebody is scared.  He is there in the middle of the night when it’s dark and your sister is asleep and you wake up.  He can lull you back to sleep.

I was all worried about him needing lamby too much.  But what about just letting him be little.  Hell I’m a grown woman and I have things that bring me comfort.  Warm slippers and jammies.  Coffee.  PIE.  My husband.  When my littles need comfort and I am not immediately there, I want them to have something.  Something to make them feel safe and warm and loved.  They won’t always have that and I will not always be immediately around, but as long as I can give comfort to them in some way, you can bet I will.

We love you Dida the Lamby.  In all your stinky, slimy, scratched eye, one eared glory.  We love you.  WE NOW KNOW.


UPDATED TO ADD – Lamby is Dida.  Dida is Lamby.


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