Wednesday, May 26, 2004
qzen42 feels 
Woobies
It all started when Brie woke up last night. Often, it's just a diaper change and back to sleep she goes. Last night, I put her down in her crib.
Beat. Beat. Waaaa!
Pick her up. She drifts off.
Put her down. Beat. Beat. Waaaa!
Finally, it occurs to me: "Maybe it's something else, eh, Einstein?"
So I try giving her her Woobie as soon as I put her in the crib. She grabs it and hugs it to her chest. And drifts off.
So what is it about Woobies? When we are young, a security blanket does the trick. As we get older, I think the Woobie just changes shape and form. My 6yr old still likes a Woobie, too, except for him, it's a Woobie du Jour. One day, a plastic dinosaur,(incidentally, the Plastic Dinosaurs would be a great name for a rock band), the next, a plush gecko.
Then, when we hit adolescence, it becomes (these days) tattoos, and body piercings. Round about college, beer & our music. By adulthood, we let go of these childish things and grasp what's really important:
PDAs, cell phones, and SUVs.
What exactly is going on here? I think (and its probably documented) we progress from needing security (childhood) to a sense of control & identity (adolescence) to an expression of social status. But the expression often takes the form of objects rather than who we are and how we feel.
So, IMHO, we never really outgrow the Woobie. It just morphs. Oops. There goes my cell phone. It's a text message. The Plastic Dinosaurs are in town.
breathe.
evolve.
laugh.
