When I was really small, probably same age Miss Monkey is now, I remember cutting foam up to re-stuff a sock monkey. I'm actually not sure if Mom made it for me from scratch, but it's possible considering the era. I have recollection of the way the foam felt under the shears, clipping it io workable pieces. I remember his mirror button nose being too floppy for my discerning four year old taste, staring at my reflection for eons. When Sock Monkey wasn't turning out exactly how I imagined, he was a bit lumpy and misshapen, I also remember being afraid to ask for something more or different, fearing the answer, guilty of asking at all. I'm working on this new gig, asking for what I want, being specific, and realizing that I needn't feel bad or be afraid of the answer. I'm here just like everyone else, neither above nor below. It's challenging. Better to be a healthy example than to listen to my daughter say things like, "oh, well, I'm so thirsty....I guess I can't get anything to drink though..." like a little martyr-in-training, rather than ask for help.
There are moving tubs everywhere full of oddities, and F came up with Sock Monkey that probably hadn't seen the light of day in almost 10 years (I recall my college boyfriend thought it creepy). The foam was shot and he was dirrrrty. After an overnight spa-soak in vinegar/borax/bit-o-bleach, he washed and dried just fine. But with further inspection, the first born decided she might like to have him re-stuffed, and I happen to have some lovely stuffing on hand from a quilt shop going-out-of-business. She also asked that his mirror nose be tacked down somehow---funny coincidence that. Then, newly firmly fluffed, with buttons reinforced and non-noddy nose, he went to bed with Little Girl and has been under her arm practically all day. I'm proud, Sock Monkey turned out just how I wanted him to, he's the embodiment of heirloom.
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