Losing Lamby Lamb

Lamby is lost.  In case you need a reminder of who Lamby is and what he meant to my little girl, let me refresh your memory.

The first memory I have of lamby was shortly after Louise's 1st birthday.  We'd given her Lamby because she had yet to receive a delightful stuffed friend all her own.  Ainsley loved her tiny jellycat bunny so we upgraded to the medium sized lamby for Louise.  Louise was fond.  Ainsley was smitten.  She made her first real trade for lamby.  "Here Yaweez.  You want to trade for my tiny bunny?  He's a baby bunny.  Good.  There.  See?  You like him.  he's a baby.  You're a baby.  Good.  Oh I LOVE you lamby!" and that was that.

We let the trade happen (even though it was horrifically unfair) because Ainsley had clearly formed a quick strong attachment to Lamby and Louise, well, she was one.  What did she know?  She was happy as a clam with her tiny bunny impostor.

At first Lamby was the sweetest companion imaginable. Lamby came with us on walks, took the starring roles in Ainsley's first REAL amazing imaginative games and play.  Then, as most lovies do, Lamby became a big old problem in our family.  Just last week I joked to a mom friend at playschool that Lamby's become the third child I never wanted.  Seriously. It had gotten out of control.

It had become a battle just to get out the door.  Lamby needs a dress, no not that dress, THAT dress, why won't that dress fit Lamby?  oh because it's a size 3T and Lamby is the size of a 4 pound baby, oh but I really want THIS dress for Lamby.  I REALLY WANT IT!!!!  And Lamby had to come with us EVERYWHERE, which really, I wouldn't mind in itself, but Ainsley, ooh though I love her, can't keep track of Lamby to save her life.  I have to search frantically for that lovely Lamb at LEAST 5 times a day.  It had slowly become my lot in life, and I was through.

This past Friday I opted to take the girls on a jogging stroller run to get Louise's new pool pass (oh my, worthy of a whole post in and of itself...my girl's first official ID!)  Ainsley was DESPERATE to bring Lamby with (of course) and despite nearly leaving her at the park the previous day I caved.  "Ok, but you need to keep track of him!!"  I mean what harm could come to sweet Lamby Lamb in the double stroller on a three mile jog anyways?

Cue 14 minutes later at the mile and a half pitstop of our run.  "Oh mommy? Where's Lamby?" Ainsley calmly asked.   "I don't know Ainsley." My eyes frantically darting here and there and everywhere.  WHAT?!??! Where could that lamb have gone!?!?!

Long story short.  Lamby was gone.  Lamby wasn't in the stroller, Lamby wasn't UNDER the stroller.  Lamby wasn't next to the stroller, in the surrounding bushes on ANY sidewalk along our route or patiently waiting on a curbside for us to claim.  Lamby was gone.  I know.  I've checked that route 3 times.

I called Ian when I got back from the run, frantic.  WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? NO WAY CAN SHE SLEEP WITHOUT/BREATHE! WITHOUT LAMBY?!?!?! 

We decided to not look any more for Lamby.  We've warned her countless times about the consequences of taking her out and losing her, that it's HER responsibility to keep track of her, not ours.  

I'll be honest.  I cried a little.  But when I composed myself and went in to explain it all to Ainsley her calm and simple reply? "But mommy, I still have nankers!"

And so it's been.  My girl hasn't made a peep about Lamby at all.  This stuffed mass produced toy that I was sure had captured her heart.  Truth be told I am clearly more heartbroken than her.  You see Lamby was my girl's first true love.  In that tiny stuffed toy holds her first secrets, her first brilliant pretend plays, her first displays of true compassion and caregiving and unconditional love.

Today when I went out for my run I looped back around to jog that mile and a half one more time.  No Lamby Lamb.  No where in sight.

I am happy that it wasn't such the ordeal that I thought it would be, and desperately sad all at once. It's one more indication that my girl is growing up, that she's shedding these baby layers that she's held so tightly for three and a half years.

People keep asking what I'm going to do with myself  for that hour and a half next fall while Ainsley's in all morning preschool and Louise is in morning playschool two days a week...I think at first I might just cry.

Growing up hurts.  

Goodbye Lamby Lamb. 

(And thank you Mo Willems, for writing your amazing Knuffle Bunny books to help children deal with the loss of a favorite toy friend.  Ainsley keeps talking about how another little boy or girl is enjoying and loving her Lamby and I think it's all you Mo, it's all you.)