20 October 2011

What's your "stuffed bunny"?

Growing up, I had a favorite stuffed animal: a bunny named Bugsy. I stole acquired Bugsy from my Auntie when I was a baby. We were visiting her house and I fell in love with Bugsy. When I ended up with an ear infection by the time we were getting ready to drive back to Georgia from North Carolina, she didn't have the heart to take Bugsy away from me and my Mom dreaded the thought of even trying. For years, Bugsy was my constant companion. In fact, I was still sleeping with Bugsy in my early twenties. I loved that once stuffed rabbit. It was a velveteen rabbit story in real life.

Now, Elizabeth, my two year old, has her own best friend and constant companion. Care to guess what type of stuffed animal it is? You guessed it. Blue Bunny goes everywhere with her, and I do mean everywhere. He's even gone into the bathtub with her on occasion when she moved a little too fast for me. She followed in my footsteps in her acquisition of Blue Bunny. Eric and I had her out with us at the BX (Base Exchange, sort of a military version of Super Target or Wal-Mart Supercenter) before Easter in 2010. Eric saw a display of stuffed bunnies and showed her one to see if she would like it if it appeared in her Easter basket. Blue Bunny did not appear in her Easter basket, due to the fact that she wouldn't even let go long enough for the cashier to scan it on the belt, the cashier had to come around to scan it. I think I can literally count on one hand the number of times she's gone somewhere with Blue Bunny since.

Blue Bunny even goes in our family pictures.

The other night at Target, Blue Bunny gave us a scare. As we neared the end of our shopping list, she asked "Blue Bunny?". I said "Yes, you have Blue B.... WHERE'S BLUE BUNNY?!?". Blue Bunny was no longer in the cart. There ensued a frantic dash around the store, out to the car, and back inside, looking for Blue Bunny. All the while I was praying "Dear God, please please please let us find Blue Bunny". I could feel my pulse hammering, my heart was both in my stomach and my throat simultaneously, and I'm sure my blood pressure was somewhere around 400/250. The thought of life without Blue Bunny was... well... let's just say that if I had had access to Ativan I would most certainly have taken it. I foresaw a very very long night stretching ahead of me. Fortunately, we found Blue Bunny in a display of plastic pumpkin trick or treat baskets. The crisis was averted and I think my Blood Pressure is finally starting to return to the neighborhood of normal. Blue Bunny will most certainly be wearing a "Contact if found" tag on his harness as soon as I can get a tag with the pertinent info made.


Blue Bunny, then and now.

The whole experience got me thinking, though. Elizabeth has a favorite stuffed animal, as did I, as do many children. If not a stuffed animal then a blanket or  favorite pillow or something of the sort. a "lovey". We look at it and go "Oh how cute". I wonder though, how many of us adults have something of the sort and just don't realize it? Something or someone that is our rock in all circumstances. I suspect that we all do, regardless of whether we realize it or not. I think that for those of us dealing with PPD or something of the sort, it may be more important than we know. To have that thing or person we can count on no matter what. When I was dealing with my PPD after I had Elizabeth, mine was my cell phone. If I realized that I had forgotten my cell phone at home, I freaked out in a major way. And the time I realized I had forgotten, in my haze of, well, everything, to pay the Time Warner and AT&T bills, and didn't realize it until the cable/landline/internet (yay for bundles) and my cell phone were cut off simultaneously? I was in tears, hyperventilating, dizzy, ready to black out. The thought of being without access to the outside world terrified me. That was actually one of the worst panic attacks I had. Of course, after I took an Ativan and calmed down enough to realize that I had a whole street full of neighbors whom I could walk to if need be I felt slightly silly for my freak out, but still.

I don't think though, that it's bad to have a "Bugsy". In fact, I think perhaps it could be beneficial. If clinging desperately as though for dear life to a stuffed bunny makes me feel better and brings me out of a panic attack, hey. Whatever works.

What's your "stuffed bunny"?

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