Lamby the Lovey

I am not sure if I've mentioned Lamby. Many babies, I have been told, develop special affection for a "lovey" - a word I take issue with, for reasons I can't figure out. Whether its a blanket, a doll, a teddy bear, whatever. Alex and I both had a "wool" - who knows where this name came from because Alex's was a definitely-made-of-cotton quilt like blanket that was about 4 foot square, with a blue border and white and red checks, that he slept with over his head for years. My "wool" was (and is, thank you very much) a red blanket, about 4x5 feet, with one side that's bright red and one that's a strange white fabric with teeny creepy teddy bears on it. Also I had an imitation cabbage patch doll. And other stuff. But I digress. When Lucy was little(r), like 4, 5, 6 months, I didn't think she was going to develop this affinity, cause she just didn't seem to care about any of her blankets or stuffed animals. But then we fell in love with Lamby.

Lamby was a gift from Debby and Udo - Frank's sister and brother-in-law. Just one of those "every baby gets presents" things, only when Lucy was about 6-7 months old, I stuck Lamby in the corner of her crib and now she is precious gold to us. So much so that I have a serious fear that she will get lost or forgotten somewhere, and unless we're going somewhere for the night, Lamby doesn't leave Lucy's bedroom.

Sometimes when we are playing in Lucy's room, she'll walk over to her crib, look over the bumper, and say "nmaynmay?" Which is "Lamby?" in the Language of Lucy, and I pull her out and Lucy hauls her around the room to play (a new video up top has this in motion). At this point Lamby is disgusting. She smells, she's dirty, her "fur" is matted. I tried to spot clean her once with Lucy in the room and Lucy freaked - had to clutch to Lamby for the rest of the day.

"Put her in the washing machine" - I hear you cry. But, you see, Lamby has a mechanical music box inside her - when you pull her tail it plays a strangely abbreviated Brahms Lullaby. So were Lamby to be plunged into the deep, part of her would die. So for now she will just have to smell and be gray - and very loved.