When I was younger I had this little yellow worm-ish looking rocking toy. You sit on it, and it was curved on the bottom so you could rock forward and backwards. Anyway, I named it Shamu. I don't know how I came up with that. Maybe my mom helped. It is the only toy I had as a small (small) child that I remember.
When I was a little older I got this stuffed German Shepard. I loved it. I got it because my mom had a German Shepard whom I loved, and was great with me, would even eat out of my toddler hands. So I named my stuffed animal after her. Pepsi.
Now, I know that 14 doesn't really count as a 'child,' but I can't do a post like this and leave out my blue stuffed bear. The month after my 14th birthday I started having abdominal pain. After what felt like months of doctors appointments and hearing "well, it ISN'T this" they finally discovered that my gull bladder needed to be removed. Immediately. I didn't have that healthy green gull bladder, oh no. Mine was black, full of gunk and gull stones and was starting to spread to the rest of my body. My gull bladder was dying, and had to be cut out before the rest of me died as well. My pediatrician was right by my side through all of it. She is more like family than my life long doctor. Anyway, after my surgery my pediatrician enters my hospital room with a blue stuffed bear that her son had picked out for me. Like any abdominal surgery I needed pressure on my stomach when I laughed, sneezed, coughed.... or moved at all. And I replaced my itty bitty pillow for the bear. I slept with that bear in the beginning because it helped me physically. But I soon grew attached and continued to sleep with it until I was ... 19. Yup. All the way up until my wedding day when I moved in with my husband. After that my bear went into storage until a year later when our oldest was born.
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