Blankie with a capital B

Quite possibly you are wondering why I started this post with a picture of one tattered, dingy blanket. Well, it's not just any blanket, it's Blankie with a capital B. A capital because it's important to me and it's a name. My childhood lovey, my security blanket, my transitional object...whatever you want to call it, I've held onto it since I was a baby.

It has holes from when my brother and I would pretend to be superheroes and drape our Blankies over our heads while dashing through the house at incredible speeds. It has no satiny edging any more because I use to rub my fingers together along the silky smooth trim and it would "tweet." My Grandmother replaced the trim once, but that too met its doom. It is incredibly stretched out because it had to cover every part of me as I laid on the couch or in bed and I just kept getting bigger so it did too! I think it's about 3-4 times the size of a newborn security blanket. I even had a "substitute" Blankie made of the same material so when Number 1 was in the wash, I could fall asleep as peacefully as possible. There was nothing like cuddling up to Blankie warm and smelling of clean breeze.

When I gave birth to my middle son, he acquired the substitute Blankie. I'd sleep with it for a night or two when it was newly clean and then place it gently over him so he could have my scent nearby. He slept with it until he was about 4, and then my husband lovingly suggested that we take it away. He didn't want Weston to have it at age 21. He actually gave it up quite easily~ we stored it for his little brother who was due to make his grand appearance weeks later.

When Connor was born, we brought him home from the hospital and Weston of course noticed right away when Connor had his special Blankie wrapped around him. Not once did I ever hear him complain of having his Blankie taken from him. It was keeping his new little brother warm and that was enough to make Weston happy.

I, on the other hand, still have and sleep with my Blankie. It's not so much that I need a security item as it once was (My husband now gives me all the security I need,) but I got used to having it prop my neck a certain way while I sleep. Without it, I can wake up feeling like my spine/neck are out of line. When my husband married me, he married my Blankie too because that thing comes to bed with us every night. It's gotten in the way plenty of times and he's given up trying to get me put it away and just pushes it aside now. When he's mad at me, he'll hide it but no one sleeps until it's propping my neck just so.

None of my boys have/use a lovey now. You won't hear me speak ill of parents whose children still do. In fact, I wonder which of those kids will save them, wrap them in tissue and place them in a shoebox or leave them boxed in their parents' attics and which ones will still have their transitional object in bed next to them or on a shelf in their bedroom when they are 26. I wonder if it really even matters, as long as they are comforted.