We tried to get her to attach to a “transitional” object during her high-maintenance infant years with no luck. Recently, though, she seems glued to her plush animals.
Not just one plush animal, though. She has a stable of about 10. And there are about 5 she absolutely must have or she will call them out by name, repeatedly, until you retrieve them.
Oh, and rubber duckies. She insists on sleeping with them, taking them to meals with her, and cleaning their bottoms with baby wipes as if they were dolls. Not sure where the rubber ducky fetish came from.
In the wee hours of the morning (this morning an amazingly late 5:30 AM) she cries out for Daddy to come transport her to our bed. By the time he arrives at her room, she is ready to go, with an armload of plush animals and at least one rubber duck.
Since I was a big stuffed animal fan myself as a young child, I find their little velveteen bodies very familiar. However, I am still trying to get used to waking up with a plastic duck’s bill digging into my back.