An ode to Woobie

Aside from her mommy, of course, (yes, you can laugh) there are really 2 great loves of Hunter's life. 

In 2nd place is 'Baby'. 

And in first place is 'Woobie." 

(An affectionate term I had remembered from Michael Keaton's 1983 movie 'Mr. Mom'.)

(A special movie clip included at the end)

Woobie was a gift to the babies (actually 3 woobies) from our good friend Mike Morrison's daughter, Meghan. The boys never really cared much about theirs so Hunter adopted them and has since been lovin on all 3 of them. HOWEVER, she loves HER woobie the MOSTEST. It's only about 12 inches by 12 inches so it's the perfect size for little arms to grasp and carry around. And that, she does. 

Here is Hunter, much, much younger carrying around ALL the woobies. 

(I'd never noticed Colton's expression in this photo until just now. He's clearly thrilled about something. Hilarious.)

Her love for her woobie is a very special kind of love. 

It's the kind of love that made us consider immediately running out and purchasing another one just like it in case anything unfortunate ever happened to it....

Unfortunately, we never did. 

And woobie is lost. Disappeared. Misplaced. Left behind. Who knows, really. 

Woobie is straight up gone.

Unfortunately, it's such a commonplace item in our household that no one can really pinpoint exactly when we last saw it. Kind of like the 2 missing forks in the silverware drawer. Hunter was pretty distraught (though surely not as distraught as I, knowing the real implications of a truly lost woobie) the first day she realized she couldn't find it. Nevertheless, we kept reassuring her we would keep looking for it, until it showed up. A few months back, we were actually prepared to drive back to Phoenix to Nana and Papa's house to retrieve a left-behind woobie. Thankfully, it showed up just in the nick of time in the storage compartment of one of the kids' chairs that Al and Grammy built. 

"OHH, Wooooobie!" Hunter proclaimed when she saw it again. 

Woobie might as well be a family member. 

It literally goes everywhere Hunter goes. 

That said, let me clarify my little girl's relationship with her woobie. Her attachment to her woobie is not one in which she becomes unconsolable or able to function when it is lost or when we make her leave it in the car at the county fair. She can still function, she just thinks about woobie constantly.

She  really, really loves her woobie. 

And when it's gone, she's sad. 

So, so sad. 

Woobie's been a lot of places with Miss Hunter. 

It's been to Dr. Goldberg's office. 

It's spent many an hour in the backyard playing. 

Woobie has doubled as a dance floor,

Woobie is never far from where she is. 

(See it off to the left side of the screen?)

When she cleans, woobie is nearby.

When she's on an airplane, woobie is tucked safely under her little chicken wing. 

When she's waiting in an airport, so is woobie. 

When she's walking downtown Kansas City, Woobie walks downtown Kansas City. 

When Hunter naps at the Crayola Cafe, woobie provides a comfy place to do so. 

Woobie, Baby, Hunter. 

Hunter, Woobie, Baby. 

Baby, Hunter, Woobie. 

Best friends forever. 

Woobie has watched Grammy Sky Dive.

Woobie has spent some unfortunate time in the toilet.

Thus, Woobie has also spent some much needed time in the washing machine. 

Woobie goes to almost all restaurants...here woobie is at Chili's. 

Woobie goes to Babies R Us. 

And where ever we travel, so does Woobie. 

Here, woobie is visiting our friends the Jen, Nate and Ava Borquez.

Do you get the gist here people? 

And this is only a SAMPLING of the photos I could've posted. 

I would not be surprised if, in a few years, I have to sit down with Hunter and have THIS conversation. (Thank you Michael Keaton for paving the way for me.)

You may want to scroll down first and pause the MixPod music player so you can really hear the video.)

Anyhoo, we've been looking for woobie for days now. We keep looking in all the same places we've already looked. You know, just in case. We've looked everywhere 4 times a piece. Hunter, God love her, periodically throws out suggestions of where she thinks Woobie is. "Mama! Woobie in da car! Woobie in mama's car!" And though I know it's not, we go out and look anyway. 

The fact that we have somehow turned it into a game is, I think, helping with her separation anxiety. Every day, before she goes to bed, right when she wakes up and at random times through the day, she proclaims "Where IS woobie? We'll find it mama. We'll find my woobie." {Please let this be true, I think to myself.} 

Recently, we'd had several visitors to our house, so I shot out a FB message to them in hopes that I had somehow sent woobie home in their belongings. One was to my friend Jen Borquez, who promptly responded that woobie was not with them. 

The second came from a blogging friend who I was SO excited to meet after years of following her blog and her quest to becoming a mother. She also replied that they had not seen woobie. 

Sigh. The only other think I could think of, was that woobie fell out of our choo choo wagon at the zoo and was currently comforting the otters or the ducks and was surely never going to be seen again. All we could do now was keep the game going. Just keep asking "Where IS woobie? We can't find it! I wonder where woobie is" and hope that someday she would just understand that woobie was simply, sadly gone. 

And then it happened. 

I got a phone call, while in the car on the way to Toy Story 3 on Ice, from my blogging friend. 

Friend: "Ami?"

Me: "Yes..."

Friend: "Does Hunter's woobie have polka dots around the edge?"

Me: YES!!!

Friend: "We found woobie!" 

No joke. I almost could not get off the phone fast enough to tell Hunter it had been found. I was giving my friend a stroller in which the kids played all morning before she and her baby girl came to get it. 

Well, I absent mindedly folded woobie up into the stroller when I was setting it aside for them. Thankfully, she opened the stroller 4 days later when she really could've set it in the garage for who knows how long! 

By now, I know you don't need to me to explain how excited Hunter was when I told her that Woobie had been found. 

The smile. The big ol' smile...oh yeah. It was worth the wait. 

"My woobie?"

Yes baby. Your woobie. 

Then we got this photo of my friend's baby taking care of woobie before they mailed it back to Hunter. 

At least we know it was in good hands. 

So if you need Hunter in the next day, she'll be outside waiting by the mailbox.  :) 

Don't you just love happy endings?

I know I do.