forgotten

I'm a sentimental old fool.

I'll put my hands up and admit to it right now.

I get very attached to anything that I feel has some sort of special story

or has been precious in any way shape or form.

I have kept all sorts of things associated with my babies,

I have memory boxes, special shelves and pretty bags

full to the brim with things that I treasure because it reminds me of my babies in some way.

But right now I am feeling so sentimental

that I have moved on to a whole new level of crazy;

crying about toys.

Or rather, crying about a special toy

who isn't seeing any love of late.

Sheldon the Seahorse has been my beautiful boy's bedtime buddy for the longest time.

We bought him when we transitioned the little man into his own room

and they've been bedfellows ever since.

Sheldon has been on holidays.

He had shared many a nap.

He's snuggled up with my little man

on nights when I would have loved to do the same.

That musical, glowing seahorse deserves more than a little credit

for seeing our gorgeous boy through some big milestones.

The cot to cot bed transition.

The move to the big boy bed.

Starting to share a room with his little sister.

Sheldon has always been there,

part of the little guy's bedtime routine.

For her first Christmas

he even got his baby sister one of her own as a present.

A little pink seahorse to keep her company at night.

He was so excited when she unwrapped her Sienna the Seahorse,

running to get Sheldon to introduce them.

As he's gotten older,

if he's ever woken in the night

he puts his seahorse on to soothe himself back to sleep.

On the nights when his sister woke up 

instead of being upset at her cries,

he squeezed his little friend's tummy

and snuggled up to his glow.

He would crawl into bed every night

and reel off the same checklist.

"Taggy. Snowdog. Sheldon."

All three present and correct ready for sleepy time.

And then suddenly 

and for no reason I can tell,

he has fallen out of love with his little friend.

We're not talking about him gradually going off him

or growing out of him.

But all out rejection.

Refusing to even have him in the bedroom. 

"Take him away Mummy. I don't want my Sheldon."

And I am left with a poor forgotten Sheldon

and a dull ache in my chest.

Is it crazy that my heart actually breaks for a toy?

A toy once so loved

and now so unwanted.

It's not about the toy really I guess.

I guess I kind of see my future staring back at me in that little seahorse's sad smile

(its definitely a sad smile, his heart is clearly broken)

Because in much the same way as Sheldon has been so needed

and suddenly is not,

I know there too will come a time 

when I won't be so needed.

I will be that sad little seahorse

while my babies move on to bigger and better things.

It makes me a fruit loop, doesn't it?

That I can't even consider putting Sheldon away.

That I pick him up in the evenings and wonder where our baby went.

That each night I wonder in vain hope

if tonight my beautiful boy might want his friend back.

It's more than crazy that I'm finding this so hard.

Harder than packing up those newborn baby grows,

harder than taking the cot bars off,

harder than leaving him for his first ever night away.

Heartbreakingly hard!

Why is that?

My baby is growing up so fast

and I'm just not ready.