Ella has this lamb I’ve mentioned, Ollie Baa Baa.
The other day, one of his eyebrows came undone on one end (it was just a simple black thread), so assuming it would solve the problem without a lot of commotion and hoopla, I simply removed both eyebrows. Frankly, I think Mr. Baa Baa looks more youthful and innocent sans eyebrows. Do real lambs even have eyebrows?
Anyway, Ella talks to her animals in her pre-sleep wind-down. Right before the intense nose-picking begins.
(Which, incidentally, she begins by telling me “No pick nose.” I say “That’s right. That’s gross.” She says “Yeah.” Then she rolls over so that her back is to me, and begins the effortful picking. And I say “Elllllllllaaaaaa, you’re not picking your nose are you?” And she says something awfully gross and simultaneously hilarious like “Yummy!” Good times.)
So anyway, like I was saying, Ella talks to her animals. She has conversations with them, asking them if they want to play outside, or telling them that Mommy (is mean because she) wouldn’t let her put the book away all by herself, or that her booboo is gone. The other day, I caught the following conversation between Ella and Ollie Baa Baa:
Ollie: “Mommy take out eyebrows.”
Ella: “Miss them?”
I really had no idea Ollie was so upset at the loss of his eyebrows.
And now, I’m sitting here, listening to her chatter away on the monitor. Eventually, she will drift off to sleep, and will dream sweetly until morning, at which time she’ll awake with the following, almost invariably:
“Nooooo. No Mommy. Nooooooo.”
I don’t get that. At all.
I’ll walk into her room, and pick her up, and she’ll say
“Sad. Tears. Miss you. Lost you Mommy.”
And I’ll tell her I was here all the time. That she’ll never lose me. And that I missed her too. Then her little arms will wrap around my neck, and her tatty hair will tickle my nose and I will have to catch my breath.
Even though I love the bedtime ever so much, I think the waking up is extraordinary.