We are in a bit of an imaginary hippy race with a couple out in Ithaca. The gentleman is a childhood friend of Dan's, and their Christmas card always seems to one-up us in terms of alternative parenting. Two years age the shot of their three kids featured one boy naked and the other wearing a dress. Add this to their pictures of farm animals and we're clearly falling behind. They also added to their family recently, and our "born at home" birth announcement crossed in the mail with their "born at home on the farm." poo.
Anyway, I wanted to make something for baby Reuben, and I thought a recycled sock toy would be just the hippy thing. So one day while the children napped I whipped together this bunny-type creature.
When Harvey got up from his nap, however, he snatched the toy still in process right out of my hand. "Das mine?" he said.
"No, that's for baby Reuben."
Harvey looked at the toy again. "Mobby Ruby," he said definitively. "Das Havey's?"
Then as Dan and I both patiently tried to explain how the bunny was going in the mail to baby Reuben, Harvey ran around the house hugging the toy singing "Mobby Ruby, Mobby Ruby, das Havey's!"
And in the end, I had to let him keep it because it's the first toy he named.
So while mobby ruby moved into his new home on Harvey's bed, I made a new toy for a present, this time keeping each step in the process hidden away in a bag. Yesterday Dan went on a Harvey-less errand to mail it off, a new chicken for their farm.
In retrospect, this was probably more appropriate to begin with, and I'm kind of glad I didn't end up sending a pair of Dan's old socks.
I bought an online pattern which is how I roll for 3D stuffed toys. It's worth it to me not to spend 5 hours pattern drafting, although I think some people really like that kind of thing. For me it's enough to think about how I'll alter the pattern next time I make it, which means there is probably a stuffed chicken or several in Harvey's future.
Oh, and a baby chick.
Although one stolen toy is enough for him right now.