Less is more, that's my thing. I've always been a minimalist kind of person. It's probably due to the fact that I've lived in really small spaces for great lengths of time. In fact, the last apartment I had before I got married was a studio. Actually, it was more like a bedroom. But it was mine all mine and filled with, well, not much. (Do Pez collections count?)
For the longest time Mamie was minimal too. Her room was tidy and her crib was empty of all things gimcrack. Even though all of her friends had a special friend, a lovey, something, Mamie was "Nah uh, not me, I needs the space" (that's not really her voice.) Sure, Mamie had her favorite blanket that she slept with, but that was IT. If I even tried to introduce her to a stuffed animal, it went flying across the room.
[SIDE NOTE: What is going to happen when the blankie gets too worn out? See, they stopped making them. So tell, what will I do? And special note to Archer (hi!): Mamie loves her new limited edition tiny stuffed animal that you got in Japan for her when you were on tour. But tell me, do you have any extras? Because she will lose it. And when she does you will hear the bleating all the way in Chicago. Listen for it.]
Back to the plot: Mamie has suddenly decided that she needs 864 things with her when she goes to sleep now. I guess it ain't a crib, if there ain't a party goin' on in it. Here's who is in attendance: The little white bear that we found him on the street (he was a McD
onald's giveaway and when we saw how much Mamie loved him we eBayed like, 8 more,) Luden, a stuffed donkey that jingles, a big pink crocheted pig, a fluffy turtle, Pinky, the Japanese creature that looks like half cute monster/half mental patient, Elmo (Mamie beats his eyes against the crib rail nightly), a baby doll who is anatomically correct, a soft dog book, Go Dog Go!, Goodnight Gorilla, a book about a barn and the Wheels on the Bus book. Also in attendance is the gnarly blanket, a flattened pillow, and our newest guest: a whole box of tissues. She cried a few nights ago when I wouldn't allow her to bring in the big yellow Boohbah that sings and dances when you press its feet. Nah, he ain't ain't invited. (too rowdy.)
So where does Mamie sleep? Most nights when I go in to check on her, all of the animals and books are piled high in a pyramid on her pillow. She's somewhere in the middle, usually on the edge, all stretched out like a Vargas girl. Whatever works as she sleeps like a dream.
(Bite my tongue.)
ADDENDUM: Today, Jan. 1st, after sleeping for 30 minutes in her crib at naptime, Mamie awoke crying because she couldn't find her bear. Which one, I asked, praying that she'd find it and then go back to sleep. No such luck, we couldn't find the bear under all the crap (plastic food is in the crib now as well as a Dora and Diego with the tags still on because Mamie won't let me take them off). Finally, I found the bear (there are 2 in there) and here I write this, on the floor of our bedroom while Mamie naps IN THE BED, refusing to get back in the crib. Let's just say, that Mama is gonna do some evicting tonight.
