Meet Giraffee

Some folks call it a “love-y” but we just call him Giraffee (pronounced je-raff-EE).  He’s a polyester/chenille mini blanket with a small and rather adorable head of a giraffe on one corner, and the fabric is all giraffe print.    We were given two of this exact toy at our showers and, after having witnessed my husband’s entire family in a state of panic whenever the youngest niece misplaced Ducky, we decided that if we had to have a transitional object, it might as well be the one that already has an understudy.

The small one naps and sleeps with the giraffe every day.  When we put him in his crib, he clutches the toy in one hand, holding it up against his check, and sucks his thumb with the other.  It’s pretty cute, actually.  And we’ve tried to be disciplined about it, not with the small one so much as with ourselves – making sure not to bring Giraffee out of the house (unless we’re going for an overnight trip), generally keeping him upstairs so he doesn’t become Linus’s blanket, not using his powers of comfort for good or evil (no “but Giraffe loves his peas” so far).  But none the less, we find ourselves calling to each other before naptime or bedtime “have you seen Giraffee?” when the child doesn’t even have a name for the toy yet.

Does that make it our transitional object and not our son’s?

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