Since Parker’s birth, there has been one thing, other than family, that has been a constant in his life, and that is a little blue stuffed teddy bear named “Snuggler.” It was given to him the day he was born by my Dad, who showed up to the hospital thinking he would wish me well at the beginning of my labor, only to find out i’d already popped the kid out.
From birth until 2 years old and beyond, it has gone everywhere with him. He can’t sleep without it, he panics when he can’t find it in his bed… it even went on the flight with us to Disney to keep him calm (and the flight home was HORRENDOUS, I cannot imagine how it would have been without his snuggler along to soothe him).
Parker’s Snuggler has been beyond a lifesaver for us at times. If we can’t calm him down, we know just shoving Snuggler in his face will absolutely do the trick. We love snuggler, even if at times he stinks to high hell because Parker’s head smells like a gym sock. Snuggler has been his permanent wingman. Some kids have a blanky- Parker has this little ratty blue bear.
Ever since we took Parker for his special birthday dinner with Count Von Count and the other Sesame Street characters, there has been a change in the wind. No longer is Snuggler his #1 BFF.
A few days after his birthday dinner, my brother came over with my nephew, and in tow they had a little talking Elmo doll; one Holden had as well, but it’s so fucking annoying that we stuffed it away hoping it would never be dug out and played with again. Every time you shake it, it talks. If you shake it quickly enough, Elmo sounds like he’s possessed by the devil. “LET’S LET’S LET’S LET’S LET’S TALK TALK TALK!”
Parker was instantly enamored. His snuggler dropped to the floor, and he snatched the Elmo out of Preston’s hands. This caused a toddler slap fight of epic proportions. What could I do but dig out our same annoying-as-shit Elmo from the bowels of Parker’s closet for him to play with as well? Sometimes, as a parent, you have to do things you don’t want to do, or you think might drive you completely batshit insane just to keep the peace.
From that moment on, Elmo has taken the place of Snuggler, much to Snuggler’s (and my) dismay.
No matter where Parker is, or what he is doing, he is asking for his “MELMO”
Eating? He wants Melmo. Sitting on the couch? Where the fuck is Melmo?
“MELMO! MELMO! MELMO!” I hear it call out through the house at all hours of the day. Even though Melmo’s hard plastic eyes are constantly smacking Parker in the face because he’s swinging it around like his bitch, he still loves that stupid little thing… and he does NOT like when I turn it off just so I don’t have to hear his obnoxious voice anymore.
Let’s all be honest. Elmo has the voice straight out of a horror film mixed with that of a pedo. It’s not a pleasant sound to hear every day all day.
Yesterday, Melmo went missing. Disappeared, nowhere to be seen.
You would have thought Parker lost his best friend. All day he was wondering the house calling “MELMO??”, as if the thing would actually answer him to to alert him of where it was. It never did.
I felt bad for the kid, but to be quite honest… a big part of me was glad the annoying thing was gone. It was the first bit of peace and quiet i’d gotten all week. With the pounding booger induced headache i’ve been experiencing… it was downright blissful.
I thought maybe today, since he hadn’t seen his beloved Melmo in 24 hours, he would just up and forget about it and go back to the soft, squishy, and slightly stinky Snuggler. Nope.
Throughout the day I heard him calling out for someone, thinking maybe he needed me, only to find him and realize it wasn’t me he was calling for at all. Instead, he was still searching for his missing Melmo.
So maybe all those times in the past where I thought he was yelling for me (the blog about calling my name fifty billion times a day) it wasn’t me he wanted from the start; it was that damn Elmo doll. That’s a kick to the nuts (y’know, if I had any).
I looked around for it, and couldn’t find the damn thing. It was as if it had disappeared into thin air. Where could the Melmo be? Did it run away, tired of being shaken?
A small part of me had hoped to never find it, never to hear that high pitched laugh ringing throughout the house ever again… and thought if maybe I DID find it, I wouldn’t give it back to him.
Curse my big bleeding heart. Late this afternoon I spotted his Melmo hiding underneath the play kitchen in the living room. I paused for a moment; do I really want him having this thing again? Can I REALLY handle hearing that voice again, all day every single day?
Sigh… I love the kid too much to deprive him. Here goes my sanity.
Parker was running around the bottom floor of the house, once again calling out for his precious MELMO, hoping he would hear it talk back to him (wouldn’t that be creepy as shit?) so I sucked it up and called out to him that i’d find it.
He came screaming through the living room so fast that he caught his foot on a car and went tumbling to the floor. Usually this would cause a major fit, crocodile tears, screaming, the whole 9 years. This time it didn’t even phase him, he was on a mission. He spotted that thing and snatched it up into his arms and squealed at the top of his lungs “MAMA! MELMO!!!” and then came running into mine.
Fuck, I guess that was worth it, wasn’t it?
I still might make the batteries disappear and tell him Melmo is broken.
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.