Day of the Dolly

Since I didn't get an 11 month old picture yesterday, I tried to take a picture of Hannah this morning before church. She was happy to oblige as long as her doll could be in the picture too. I tried to take the doll away so you could see how cute this little velveteen dress is (Mom made it for me when I was Hannah's age and it's still very lovely), but Hannah kept trying to follow the doll instead of sitting still and the plan was quickly abandoned.

Hannah consented to leave the doll (who is named Emily by the way, in honor of the sister I would have had if Thomas had been born a girl) behind when we went to church. Once we got back home, however, the doll regained her place of primacy. I attempted to take Hannah for a quick walk, but she would not go unless the doll came too. I tucked the doll in with Hannah, who was bundled in layers, a big coat, her thick fleece hat with earflaps, her hood on top of that, a double folded wool blanket, and the quilted insulated flannel lined cover for the stroller. Hannah stayed warm, except for the hand she insisted on keeping out of the warm covers in order to pat the doll periodically, presumably for the doll's comfort and so that Hannah could ensure that the doll stayed warm too.

Having skipped her afternoon nap (a fairly common Sunday occurrence, sad to say), Hannah hit the bedtime wall hard, fast, and early. As I scrambled to get her into her pajamas and tucked in, she clutched the doll tightly to her chest. I tried to pry the doll from Hannah's wee fingers, only to encounter a protest such that you might have thought I was attempting to pluck the very life from her. Friends, need I tell you that Hannah fell asleep with Babydoll Emily by her side. Usually she doesn't go to sleep with toys, but I don't mind if she picks one doll to sleep with, so I bid them both good night.