Last night, after some negotiation about the number of books, I had started to read Elena our agreed-upon bedtime stories. She glanced over to the toy bin that sits next to the rocking chair . The things in there aren’t in her regular playtime rotation, but something caught her eye. She got off my lap and pulled out a stuffed buffalo, which became our reading companion. Elena made sure that he had a good view of every page; after all, everyone needs to know their colors.
Today buffalo became a full-fledged member of her family. He came downstairs, he had to have a place of honor near the table during mealtime, he put in some time as Elena’s neighing steed. At bedtime, after picking out books, she ran out of the room with cries of “baa, baa.” I thought it was just a delay tactic until she got to the bottom of the stairs and headed purposefully to the table, where she pulled buffalo off the shelf he had been sitting on since dinner. After all, he’s her new reading companion.
We are trying to come to terms with the consequences of Elena’s active imagination and ever-deepening memory. If only her communication skills were at the same level, maybe it would be slightly easier.