They want them to go with us when we leave the house. They want to sleep with them. They want to play with them. They want to love on them. They want to baby them. They name them very creative names like a bear named "Beary" and a giraffe named "Giraffey" and a female rabbit that Jessa named "Jeffbucks" (please don't ask).
I have always enjoyed stuffed animals, too. Maybe they come by that honestly? And I tend to think of them as having personalities. Books like Corduroy really sadden me. That poor bear! I mean I know it has a happy ending, but it is so heart wrenching watching that confused little bear. Oh and the Velveteen Rabbit - don't get me started. When I read a condensed version to the kids, I cannot get through it without choking up.
And stuffed animals are easy gifts. David brings them home to them from trips. Although he always brings really cool ones like a Beareglesquoonit from Lake Tahoe. I tried to link an explanation, but I could not find one. Darn it. Legend says: During a fierce winter blizzard, a bear, eagle, squirrel, raccoon and a rabbit all sought shelter in the same cave. This is what happened.
The kiddos always pick out a stuffed animal if they are given the choice. You know, they love a trip to Cracker Barrel and with all the choices, they usually pick a stuffed animal.
You may be asking yourself, why is Dana telling me all of this?
Well, I am telling you all of this because frankly,
THE ANIMALS ARE TAKING OVER.
They are everywhere.
I find them all over the place.
They are on Jessa and Spencer beds:
There are stray ones in chairs:
We have an entire closet in the playroom dedicated the them:
I tried placing plastic shelves in the closet to organize them. But there are too many. And the kids are not so good at keeping up with my organizational plans:
They are in my chair. I sit on them and they talk to me:
There are stuffed animals in the dog bed.
Oh, wait, one of those is Stewart.
The futon hardly has a place left for someone to sit:
Even with a dedicated closet in the playroom, the kids closet also has a bin:
I am all about baskets. You can still have things accessible, but they look somewhat neater. So we have baskets with animals in many rooms:
There are small bins in shelves all over the place with a few strays:
There is a whole container in the garage full of animals that have made a trip here or there. They are left behind in the car. And when I get to the point that there is no place for me to sit to drive the van,
I purge them into this container:
I know we could give them away. I have tried. But Jessa and Spencer love them. They know them ALL. We will not see one for months and then out of the blue, we will have to search the house until we find it. Once we could not find a zebra. Jessa wanted to make sure I knew which one he was talking about, so she drew a picture. It was like a sketch released from the police with an APB.
We did find the zebra. Whew. And he seemed unharmed and untraumatized from his experience.
So with ALL of these animal friends, a few weekends ago when we were at Cabela's with Bay, I simply could not consent to bringing ANOTHER one into the house. Especially since the ones they wanted were, well, huge. So they found something else. It was something they did not have. So I said, OK. I thought it was the lesser of two evils.
Maybe I was not thinking clearly because I am living in fear of being overrun with stuffed animals. Maybe I was tired from sleeping with one eye open, surrounded by wild and somewhat questionable animals. Whatever the case, we ended up with these:
After about 3 minutes, I thought I was sorry.
And we were not even to the car yet.
Once we were home with them, I KNEW I was sorry.
So now I am back to thinking that stuffed animals may not be so bad.
At least they are quiet, right?