Friday, November 23, 2007

Happy Hoarder

I read this, which inspired me to have a little scavenger hunt of my own since it had been a few days since the last one.

Moosie has always been a hoarder. Well, for his first year he wasn't mobile, technically he wasn't really that mobile until he was 18 months old. Even then he would cry to be put down and would crumple up his favorite crochet blankie (he used to hold his arm straight in the air to 'sign' for it, but now calls it his "ahck ate ate" [black blanket]). He chewed the thick yarn with his fingers as much as he chewed it with his teeth.

But once he was mobile, he would wander. I would find him under lots of things. At first this frightened me because he was so quiet. I would get lost in something, and look around after realizing that Moosie was gone. Now when Bubba was 18 months old, he would be out the locked back door, down the deck stairs, and approaching the fence gate in the time it took me to get milk out of the fridge, so when Moosie would disappear, my heart would race, my pace would quicken. But eventually I learned to look in 4 or 5 places--under his bed, under the chifarobe, under the baker's rack, behind the recliner, and, his all time favorite, under the quilt rack.

So when Moosie wanted to be around me or the goings on of the house--or in the car, or really anywhere he couldn't escape--he would hold as many items as possible. Trains and cars, books were a favorite. And as a good Mommy, I wanted to make this easier for my baby. He would get so frustrated dropping an item each time he bent over to pick up another. So I showed him how to use bowls and buckets, he even got a stroller for Christmas one year. And the little stinker piled them high and still carried an arm full.

But now, since some time earlier this year, Moosie prefers to do his hand hoarding (which must be distinguished from his mouth hoarding) alone. He disappears quietly several times a day, each time little trinkets, toys, and doodads trailing behind him to the promise land. I, of course, do not realize what has been swiped because I can't even remember which direction the kitchen is nowadays.

So every other day or so I go on a little expedition.

Some times I find popcorn. Or pretzels. Or apples. Sometimes chewed up, sometime spit out.

Sometimes I find my checkbook. And car keys. Toys and books are a given.

Sometimes I find candles. Or picture frames. Or lots and lots of blankets.

And sometimes I find this...sound asleep.

No comments: