Behold, the rice sock.
I made this while I was pregnant the first time, on the advice of my birthing class instructor. She said it would help with pregnancy aches, labor pains, and any of life’s little uncomfortable moments afterward. I immediately lost it, so when I got pregnant the second time I made another one (because, of course, I could find the sock-mate to the original rice sock, even though the rice sock itself had disappeared). When I was putting away the things I had taken to the birthing center, I found Rice Sock 1, right where I decided to put away Rice Sock 2 (duh? I guess?). Now they live in the freezer, so they are cold and ready to go if someone gets hurt.
At some point in the last six months, Finn got hurt in that toddler way of running into something or tripping over his own feet or jumping where he should not have been jumping, and in desperation I pulled out the rice sock when I discovered that someone (not naming names, but you can guess), had chewed through the blue-gel ice pack. Since that day, Rice Socks 1 and 2 have been Finn’s constant companions. He likes to sleep with one at night, and nap with one in the afternoon, and cuddle with one when he is feeling sad. Today he is sick and curled up with one in bed.
Finn has resisted all “busy bags”, all “quiet bottles,” all “sensory play” recipes, each and every pinterest-y thing that other kids use to occupy themselves. But Rice Sock has filled in the gap. Why? My three minutes of googling today has revealed this:
Looks like I can make them smell nice. I guess I will put that on my list of things to do right after “wash them” which I have been meaning to do for months.