A Worthy Companion

Teddy was my world.  I couldn’t live without him.  I couldn’t sleep without him.  I loved him to pieces before I even got out of elementary school.  He had been my sleeping companion from my first Christmas on to an age I won’t disclosed as I’m sure I was too old.  Even though he was a boy teddy bear, I dressed him up for special occasions in the only outfit that would fit him, a white and green checkered dress.  When it was time to go to college, I couldn’t leave him behind.  He stayed on my bed as my companion, some one I cried to when my heart got broken.  So when I had children, I naturally assumed they would have something that they loved like that.

Evan did not.  He could take it or leave it.  He didn’t need anything special.  It wasn’t until recently that a friend of mine brought him a handmade dinosaur from Thailand that Evan started to love a toy constantly.  But a few months later, Evan prefers to have Toothy, but he could live without him.

Sean loves his Blanky.  It’s one of those super soft baby blankets lined with satin.  It’s blue with one color embroidered with “Thank Heaven for Little Boys.”  It was originally Evan’s, which I took every time we flew, matching the ultra-blue outfit that just screamed boy because I always worried about having to prove he was a boy to match his ticket.  (Weird, I know, but all babies look uni-sex.  Yeah, I know.  But after they stopped and searched me when I was six months pregnant, I wasn’t taking any chances.)  Sean loves his blanket to pieces.

Blanky is now Sean’s constant companion.  If, for some chance, he forgets it or picked up without it, he cries, “Blah, Blah” as he reaches towards it.  He’ll put it down to play games he needs both hands for, but usually he has to have it, at meals, at stores, at the park.  The problem is he drags it behind him as it collects dust.  To make matters more complicated, poor Sean has allergies, making it very important to have a clean Blanky.  I haven’t mentioned how he had to have it at dinner that was topped off with chocolate ice cream.

So what’s a poor mother to do?   

Break her baby’s heart every time the leave the house?  Or wash the blanket two to three times a week?  People, I’m running out of clothes to wash with it.  Oh, well, I’ll just stock up on the best stain remover and start scouring the internet for a replacement, just in case.

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