My Blankie Girl

Before I had kids, I melted at the sight of a sweet little toddler (Can you believe my babies are toddlers now?) dragging around a lovey blankie. It just made me want to scoop them up and kiss 'em.


When Owen was a toddler, I kept hoping in a little way that he'd become attached to blankie or stuffed animal. E.E., the monkey, is the closest thing to a lovey he has. Although, he could mostly do without it, and he doesn't care which E.E. (we have two) is with him for things like trips to grandma's house and to get shots.



Blake doesn't go for that sort of thing either. He's mostly drawn to things in the shape of sticks like plastic golf clubs and baseball bats, brooms, and the stick we use as a lock on the sliding glass door.



But with Sadie, well, I got what I wished for. (Just like when I was younger and thought it'd be so much fun to have twins. HA!) She currently has two pink blankets that she totes around constantly. Um..maybe wears like a cape is a better description. She holds one corner in each hand, drapes it over her shoulders, and walks around like that for an hour. She pulls it over her head to hide from her brothers. She rides on it down the Little Tikes slide in the basement. She rubs the silky part when she's nervous or sleepy. It comes in handy for things like going to the doctor, being dropped off in the child watch area at the Y, and making a barrier between Sadie and Blake in the Sam's Club shopping carts. Luckily at this point either blankie will do, and you can bet that I'm putting extra blankies at the top of her Santa list.
As much as I always thought it would be so cute to have a blankie-toting baby around, I didn't realize how, in reality, it's kind of a pain. It's annoying remembering to grab it before I head up the stairs for naptime. Or worse, having to go back down stairs and up again because I forgot. It's not fun to listen to her scream all the way home because I won't hand it back to her in the van after she dropped it in a puddle and it got ran over by the stroller. If Blake ever takes the blanket, she attacks him full force, so beware. She cries when I take it away so she can eat. She screams if it's not in her crib. Without it in the morning, there is whining, whining, whining. They need to be washed constantly because they get covered in snot and milk and germs from shopping carts. (I'm being careful this flu season!)



But for as much of a hastle as the blankies are, it's the kind of hastle that makes me feel a little bit lucky for getting the chance to deal with it. In the same way it's a hastle to wash sticky finger prints off the walls or pick up countless toys every night before I go to bed, I'm secretly glad that I get to do it. Doing those kinds of things that makes me feel like a mom. And I get to be Mom to some awesome E.E. snugglin', stick wavin', blankie draggin' kids.