Adults Who Sleep With Stuffed Animals
It’s me. I sleep with a stuffed animal. Let me explain.
I had the incredible experience of knowing and living with my cat, Newland Archer, for 21 years. Such a long time to know anyone, let alone live with them.
We got along right from the get go. That first night she leaped up on my bed while I was reading and made herself a little nook in my armpit as I lay on my side. And that’s where she slept for the better part of 21 years.
That cat met all of my boyfriends in my 20's and 30's. We shared two homes over the years, some with roommates, some alone. Like most cats, she operated better when something was her idea. She chased dogs and battled raccoons. She was a badass.
She started to get sick right around the time I got pregnant and I swore, if I heard one more person say something about the circle of life, I was going to start throwing punches.
She lived just past my son’s first birthday. His first word was “kitty”.
She mattered a great deal to me and though she lived longer than I expected, I miss her every single day. And most of all, at night. The loss of my armpit snuggler left a hole in my ability to sleep and one night I grabbed one of Holden’s stuffed animals to fill the void.
We’ve been sleeping together ever since. I share this with you for two reasons. 1. I know other people who have lost pets and might find comfort in a stuffed animal. No, it’s not the same, but it’s something and it’s nice. 2. I was heading down to San Diego for a convention and was going to have two roommates in my hotel room and had decided to leave “Baby Jagwater” behind, so as, not to have to explain myself to my roomies. My son ran after me as we were leaving for a trip. “MOMMY! You forgot Baby Jaaaaaagwater!!”
“Thank you, Holden, you know I sleep better with him”… I guess somethings are worth an embarrassing explanation.