A Normal Kid

As I tucked Olivia into bed the other night, I watched her as she arranged her menagerie of comfort items and I wondered aloud, “Why can’t you be a normal kid and sleep with stuffed animals?”

She laughed (thank goodness) and looked down at her grouping.

Let me help you out here. Among the things she sleeps with each night were: a book light, sometimes illuminated, sometimes not, a turtle nightlight, a pen shaped like a mermaid tail, the cap to a shampoo bottle, and a ball with a mermaid floating around in some sort of liquid inside it.

Yeah. Those are the things she takes to bed with her each night. She sometimes even wakes up in the middle of the night, calling out to me that she can’t find one of those things. I usually tell her we’ll find it in the morning (it’s almost always between the wall and the mattress or on the floor having fallen between the wall and the mattress.) I also tell her to go back to sleep.

All of the things she takes to bed for comfort are basically a kidney puncture waiting to happen. I don’t know how she can sleep with those things strewn about her bed, rolling onto them in her sleep, having them leave weird indentations on her skin by morning.

But honestly, I felt bad for the ‘normal kid’ comment. I mean, I’m sure lots of ‘normies’ sleep with weird things. And I know a lot of kids with her syndrome love stuffed animals.

My kid, however, thinks stuffed animals are creepy and would rather sleep with a backscratcher that’s shaped like a rake (you can get one of your very own at Rural King, they come in lots of different colors!) For the record, this post is NOT sponsored by Rural King. I’m pretty sure Rural King does not sponsor blogs. And let’s be clear here, this blog isn’t sponsored by anything but my own desire to overshare.

Anyway, all that to say that for the next several days, Olivia would suddenly chuckle and mutter, “A normal kid.”

I’m glad she finds the idea of ‘normal’ to be amusing. I’m glad she realized I wasn’t actually calling her abnormal.

We’re a family of weirdos, we all embrace our weirdness and we celebrate our differences. Alyssa has approximately three thousand seven hundred fourteen stuffed animals. I think she’s cornered the market on that part of ‘normal’ for this family.

I just wish Liv would pick things to sleep with that aren’t an actual danger to her health, you know, like the cup she once snuggled with when she was about three. That wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the rake or the mermaid pen.

Alas, she’s very much her own person and she’s decided those things bring her comfort in the dark of night.

Who am I to cause her stress by taking away her comfort items? Okay, I know I’m her mom and I should keep her safe so yeah, the rake backscratcher has to go, but the mermaid ball? I think that one’s unlikely to hurt her. And if these things help her sleep through the night? Everyone knows I’m all for that.