I'd like you to meet a very important member of the family.
Introducing...
Introducing...
Piggy.
About a year and a half ago, during a non-Piggy-related family trip to Ikea, my older daughter spotted a bin of these plush porkers. Piggy wasn't on our shopping list that day, but she spoke often of him in the days and weeks ahead. Something about this little stuffed toy resonated for her in a way I hadn't seen before. When we returned to Ikea, probably a few months after their initial meeting, Piggy came home with us.
And they have been inseparable ever since.
They sleep together. Eat together. Piggy sits on the back of the toilet while my daughter gets a bath. She's asked for a basket for her bicycle so that she can take Piggy along for rides. Piggy comes to school every day and lives in my daughter's cubby. I love catching glimpses of her giving Piggy a quick hug and kiss as she grabs her coat or lunch box, carefully arranging his snout so that he has the best view of the hallway. He even became a central figure in our Halloween costumes last year. My daughter dressed as Fern from "Charlotte's Web" so that she could carry Piggy. Er, Wilbur.
About a year and a half ago, during a non-Piggy-related family trip to Ikea, my older daughter spotted a bin of these plush porkers. Piggy wasn't on our shopping list that day, but she spoke often of him in the days and weeks ahead. Something about this little stuffed toy resonated for her in a way I hadn't seen before. When we returned to Ikea, probably a few months after their initial meeting, Piggy came home with us.
And they have been inseparable ever since.
They sleep together. Eat together. Piggy sits on the back of the toilet while my daughter gets a bath. She's asked for a basket for her bicycle so that she can take Piggy along for rides. Piggy comes to school every day and lives in my daughter's cubby. I love catching glimpses of her giving Piggy a quick hug and kiss as she grabs her coat or lunch box, carefully arranging his snout so that he has the best view of the hallway. He even became a central figure in our Halloween costumes last year. My daughter dressed as Fern from "Charlotte's Web" so that she could carry Piggy. Er, Wilbur.
As much as I appreciate Piggy, he's not always easy to have around. When my daughter is in a particularly silly mood, Piggy's oinks and squeals can get downright ear-piercing. He needs to be bathed more frequently than he is comfortable with, and consequently, he's usually pretty smelly and grubby. He often contributes to our running late, suddenly disappearing at just the moment we need to be in the car. He has very specific demands for travel and for being tucked in at night. And, every once in awhile, I hear that insidious little whisper in the back of my head. The one that says, "Isn't she getting too old for this?"
But here's the thing: Piggy is an essential part of my daughter's life. Piggy provides security and consistency. He's a talking point with peers, a companion during long car rides, an expression of love from her parents. Moreover, Piggy is my daughter's mouthpiece, an extension of her growing identity. I know she won't need Piggy forever. She'll find other tools, other comforts, other manifestations of her beautiful, caring, compassionate heart. For whatever reason, Piggy is what she needs right now, and she loves him.
So, sure - I'll give Piggy a kiss goodnight. I'll tuck him in. I'll pretend to feed him tomato soup (his very favorite food). Yes, he can ride in my backpack. He can join us at the dinner table. We'll make him shoes to keep his hooves dry. And, all the while, I will be grateful for just another way to show my daughter that I love her.
So, sure - I'll give Piggy a kiss goodnight. I'll tuck him in. I'll pretend to feed him tomato soup (his very favorite food). Yes, he can ride in my backpack. He can join us at the dinner table. We'll make him shoes to keep his hooves dry. And, all the while, I will be grateful for just another way to show my daughter that I love her.
