While opening gifts at my baby shower, I couldn't help but wonder. I received no less than 20 blankets and dozens of stuffed animals and I smiled at the thought that one day, my unborn child would probably choose one of these as her lovey. security blanket. best friend. Little did I know at the time, that she wouldn't latch one to any one of those fine gifts. Yet the $.99 cheap-o fleece-type blanket (from Marcs, of course) that her grandmother picked up as an extra at their house, became the one she couldn't live without.
She fondles it. She smells it. She holds onto it for dear life as I'm putting her to bed, she runs for it when she's been scolded. She won't part with it when she's under the weather. And she drags it around behind her CONSTANTLY while exploring the house.
I know where she gets it. I'm 30-something years old. So is my "blankie'-sometimes referred to as 'the woobie'. You may not see it as a blanket. It's ripped, torn, partly disintegrated, discolored, and stinks (of love, I like to say!). It's seen better days, and for that reason, It lives in my pillow case, where its protected, safe and with me every night. Like it's been since I was born. Blankie knows me like no one else. It's been to Spain and France. It spent 4 years in college. It went (in my purse) to my father's funeral, because even though I was an 'adult' at the time, I needed all the security I could get.
Last weekend, while changing my bed sheets, I misplaced 'blankie'. After 4 days of searching, I sadly wrote her off as 'gone' because I couldn't find her anywhere. For the first time ever, blankie had betrayed me. All I could fathom was that she sprouted legs and walked off into the sunset. And through the busy week, I put on a stoic facade. But the lump never left my throat.
So Imagine my excitement yesterday when my husband calls me at work to tell me he had done an extensive search of our bedroom and found blankie. He knew I wasn't ready to let her go. He made it a mission to find her. And he did.
Maybe I had attachment issues as a child. Maybe I still do. Maybe Mom didn't toilet train me correctly. Maybe Dr. Phil wants to talk to me about this issue (he's devoted shows to this topic!). Or maybe I never found it necessary to part with something that holds, in its fibers, so much of me.
Research shows that if a mother has a security item as a child, then HER child is more likely to have one as well. As far as mothers having security items as adults, well, I can't find any research. But my guess is that Scarlett will be dragging her blue blanket all through life, too. After all, time always passes, and things always change, but its nice to always have one thing, we can hold onto.
I knew you had to do it. It is a beautiful tribute to woobie. p.s. i did potty train you right!
Posted by: mom | January 24, 2009 at 05:14 PM
That was really sweet of Mike to look for woobie and find it for you! I knew there was a reason I always liked him! A lot of guys wouldn't understand it much less care enough to help you look. You almost made me cry when I read you story.
Posted by: Kim | March 11, 2009 at 11:24 AM