1 Mother 2 Another

We’ve worked deliberately to get the
girls both attached to renewable “loveys”;
nothing’s worse than having a toddler addicted to a
one-of-a-kind binky or snuggly, only to have said binky fall out of
the car and never come back. Both girls have their
“silkys” – little snuggle blankets we had made
for them right around birth – and unbeknownst to them,
we’ve got two of each one. They are regularly rotated, for
cleanliness and so they both wear down at the same rate.


So both girls have their silkys. But Cora’s got another
lovey, and while it’s a renewable resource and is certainly
portable, it’s not, um, without limitations.


Cora is in love with my hair.

For whatever reason, Cora needs a fistful
of hair to calm down. She loves to sit in my lap, holding a few
strands in one hand, her silky in the other. She doesn’t
stroke my head, or play with the back of my neck – just pulls
on a handful. I don’t even think the hair needs to be
attached to my head; she’s happy (and sometimes insistent) to
sit next to me by herself, holding a lock of my hair pulled over
her shoulder.


If she just needed to hold my hair, it’d be odd enough. But
Cora likes the feel of the ends of my hair: she grasps a lock
towards the bottom, and continuously taps the ends of my hair
against the palm of her other hand. Or against her face.


Or in her ear.


Yeah, she likes to tap the end of my hair all over her face and
hands. It’s a little weird. It wouldn’t be too bad, but
she sometimes needs that hair to stretch just a liiiiiiiiitle
further than it does, and yanks hard to the hair that’s still
attached to my head. Or at least, WAS attached to my head until she
pulled on it. I think I’m going to have a little bald spot in
the area she usually grabs, unless I wean her of this attachment.


When she’s upset, Cora is quite specific about needing to
snuggle with Mommy’s HAIR, not Mommy. I’ll hear her
wail from another room, “I need to hold Mommy’s
hair!” Sometimes I’ll wear my hair up, and it’ll
be the first thing Cora will comment on in the morning.
“Mommy, you have your hair up!” she’ll say in
dismay. “Yes, honey, I do, but I’ll take it down
later,” I’ll say soothingly. Several hours later, as
Cora has a pre-nap meltdown, she’ll sob, “Can you take
your hair down now, please, Mommy?”


I’m sure she’ll outgrow this at some point, but short
of shaving my head, it’s not really something I can force,
like taking away a pacifier. I just try to be patient, and know
that this too shall pass.


Hopefully before I’m shopping for a toupee.