For Christmas M got several Elmo dolls, and the singing Elmo was her favorite! You squeeze his belly and he says, “Elmo wants to sing a song.” You squeeze again and he says, “AHEM.” and then “La” each time you squeeze him, louder or softer depending on how hard you squeeze. M had mastered this, and would even put him on the ground and step on his tummy to make him sing. I guess she did this too many times, because while we were in Jacksonville, Elmo sang his last song. My friend even tried replacing the batteries, but it seems to be permanently broken. Bummer. I think I’ll call the number on the tag, since he’s only about a month old. Interesting thing I observed was my reaction when she brought me the broken Elmo. I had this brief terror about having to one day tell her that someone or something she loves isn’t going to be around anymore, and it really broke my heart. I shook it off quickly because she was yelling, “Elmo, Elmo, Elmo,” but I felt such heartbreak at the thought of having to tell my little girl anything negative. This parenting thing is only going to get harder, I think. Luckily, she wasn’t too upset. I just told her Elmo lost his voice. On the plane ride home she was “feeding” Elmo some cookies, and cracking herself up. It was so fun to watch her pretending.
Inspiration . . .