It's fun to watch how my kids become attached to certain toys. My two year old son "G" has really started to love cars, trucks, airplanes and trains and wants to take one of them with him everywhere. We will be ready to go out the door and "G" will say, "Take train Mommy?" When we are out, he points out different kids of vehicles (trucks especially) and yells out, "Semi truck!" or "cement truck!" or "choo-choo train!" It's so cute.
When we are outside he points out airplanes and helicopters that are flying overhead and won't stop shouting about it until I acknowlede that I see it too.
Recently he has started sleeping with his little cars and insists that he has two or three of them with him before he goes to sleep. My daughter loves to have stuffies (see this post) in her bed, at least they are soft, but "G" requires a hard little car or plane in his hand. It usually ends up underneath him. I can't imagine that would be too comfortable... but he loves it!
Showing posts with label toys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toys. Show all posts
Thursday, 14 July 2011
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Favourite Childhood Toy
Last night I was putting my 5 year old daughter "E" to bed. She had a million stuffies on her bed and she insisted she needed them all to sleep.
"Really, all of them?" I asked her.
"Yes. All of them. But I specially need my favourites: Meow, Soft Rainbow, and Falissa," she said. "E" then proceeded to pull out of the pile a baby tiger, a rainbow coloured teddy bear, and her very favourite, a cheetah that moves it's head, growls, and has eyes that light up.
"And I have to hold them like this." She lined them up next to her, wrapped her little arm around them and gave them each a great big kiss. "I love them so much!"
It was so sweet to see. She snuggled and cuddled her stuffies and made soft sighs of comfort and joy.
"Mom, how did you sleep with Baby Tara?" she then asked me. Baby Tara was my favourite doll when I was younger. I remember loving her so much that I could not sleep without her, just as "E" can not sleep without her ginormous pile of toys. I enjoyed Baby Tara so much that I kept her all these years, and have recently given her to my daughter. True, she is a little worn, has painted lips and fingernails, and has dirt in creases that I have never been able to get out, but she has her original clothes and is pretty much in tact.
I dug Baby Tara out of the pile of stuffies, laid down next to "E" and showed her how I used to sleep with my favourtie doll. As I pulled Baby Tara close against my chest in a familiar spot underneath my chin I was surprised; I felt a sudden surge of comfort and happiness. I had forgotten how it felt to hold my doll close to me and I understood my daughter a little better. I understood (or rather remembered) her need to have all her favourtie toys close to her. It was such a warm feeling and I was so happy that I could share that with her.
"Really, all of them?" I asked her.
"Yes. All of them. But I specially need my favourites: Meow, Soft Rainbow, and Falissa," she said. "E" then proceeded to pull out of the pile a baby tiger, a rainbow coloured teddy bear, and her very favourite, a cheetah that moves it's head, growls, and has eyes that light up.
"And I have to hold them like this." She lined them up next to her, wrapped her little arm around them and gave them each a great big kiss. "I love them so much!"
It was so sweet to see. She snuggled and cuddled her stuffies and made soft sighs of comfort and joy.
"Mom, how did you sleep with Baby Tara?" she then asked me. Baby Tara was my favourite doll when I was younger. I remember loving her so much that I could not sleep without her, just as "E" can not sleep without her ginormous pile of toys. I enjoyed Baby Tara so much that I kept her all these years, and have recently given her to my daughter. True, she is a little worn, has painted lips and fingernails, and has dirt in creases that I have never been able to get out, but she has her original clothes and is pretty much in tact.
I dug Baby Tara out of the pile of stuffies, laid down next to "E" and showed her how I used to sleep with my favourtie doll. As I pulled Baby Tara close against my chest in a familiar spot underneath my chin I was surprised; I felt a sudden surge of comfort and happiness. I had forgotten how it felt to hold my doll close to me and I understood my daughter a little better. I understood (or rather remembered) her need to have all her favourtie toys close to her. It was such a warm feeling and I was so happy that I could share that with her.
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| My Baby Tara A Playmates (copyright) doll from the 80's |
Wednesday, 6 April 2011
Toilet Surprises
I've been finding odd things in the toilet lately. This is not about poop, so don't worry. My 22 month old son "G" has a new fascination with sticking things in the toilet: Q-Tips, dinosaurs, mega-blocks, rubber duckies, you name it. I think he likes the 'plop' sound it makes. Who wouldn't? I don't think I'd mind so much if I didn't have to reach in and grab it. It's not as if the toilet is really dirty (I clean it regularly), it's just that it's the toilet. I don't know what to do to make him stop. I've told him that putting things in the toilet is yucky. He says, "Yucky," and then a couple hours later I open the toilet lid and surprise, there's another 20 Q-Tips in the toilet. I guess I'm just going to have to keep some extra disinfectant around.
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Toddler Monster
My son has a bag of foam blocks that he received for Christmas. He has become more interested in them in the last week or so and decided that it is super fun to dump them all over the floor. My daughter loves to build towers and castles out of the blocks. But then, along comes the toddler monster! He roars and swings his arms, destroying the beautiful princess castle/dinosaur home.
"MOM!" 'E' yells. "'G' knocked over my tower!"
'G' responds by laughing or screaming and kicking the remaining blocks that haven't been scattered across the room.
After some more yelling and crying from the kids, I make the decision to put the blocks away. Apparently sharing was not an option either kid was willing to take. Finally the room is all nice and clean, the blocks put nicely away and the kids are distracted by some other toy. Good. I can get back to whatever I was doing before.
Five minutes later I walk into "G's" room. It looks as if a volcano has errupted. A volcano that spews multi-coloured foam blocks. They are everywhere; on the floor, in his crib, underneath the floor rug, in the closet, tucked underneath clothes. How did a 22 month old manage to get that many blocks in so many places so quickly? And he is nowhere to be seen. The toddler monster has struck again.
At least the blocks were contained in his room this time.
I stare at the mess and think maybe I should clean this up. Oh, but what's the use? They'll just be on the floor again in a few minutes.
"MOM!" 'E' yells. "'G' knocked over my tower!"
'G' responds by laughing or screaming and kicking the remaining blocks that haven't been scattered across the room.
After some more yelling and crying from the kids, I make the decision to put the blocks away. Apparently sharing was not an option either kid was willing to take. Finally the room is all nice and clean, the blocks put nicely away and the kids are distracted by some other toy. Good. I can get back to whatever I was doing before.
Five minutes later I walk into "G's" room. It looks as if a volcano has errupted. A volcano that spews multi-coloured foam blocks. They are everywhere; on the floor, in his crib, underneath the floor rug, in the closet, tucked underneath clothes. How did a 22 month old manage to get that many blocks in so many places so quickly? And he is nowhere to be seen. The toddler monster has struck again.
At least the blocks were contained in his room this time.
I stare at the mess and think maybe I should clean this up. Oh, but what's the use? They'll just be on the floor again in a few minutes.
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