Friday, December 16, 2011

another white bites the dust

My mom makes her grandbabies oodles of crocheted things before they're born. They arrive home to blankets and booties and sweaters and hats and a blessing dress (or five if it's Annabelle and she just keeps growing out of them) and little snuggly blanket squares. All crocheted from the same ridiculously soft yarn. And all ridiculously beautiful. She's a busy woman. I'm really not sure how she finds the time to outfit these babies, but she does. And their mommies are ever so grateful.

As it has been documented, Annabelle took a particular liking to the white blanket she was brought home in. Girl loves that blanky more than any other earthly possession. Although I don't allow it to accompany us into stores or on errands, it's often waiting patiently in the car. And even when my mom crocheted her a second white blanket in the hopes that having two would slow the decay of the first, she won't budge. She uses the second one, but she loves blanky. Blanky makes her happy. It makes her brave. It makes scary things fade. It heals owies. It even assisted in potty training (she held it, rolled up in a tight ball, to make her feel brave, and now that we're past the fear, she leaves blanky at the door). The other day, when a friend hurt her feelings, it was only being wrapped up in mommy's arms with blanky around her head that she could forget the mean things that had happened.
When Lou was born, I was dead set on not allowing another baby to destroy that pretty white blanket. She came home in it, and then I promptly folded it at the end of her bed and decided that the pretty light blue/tealish one was the one she would love. Little turkey didn't. She took a liking to the minky type of blanky for a while, but whenever I'd take the white blanket out (for church or photos), she would light up and practically dance. She'd grab it from behind her head and wrap her face up, just like her sister did and does. When you'd peek at her in the blanket, she'd be grinning and happy as a mommy who got a whole night of sleep. Eventually I realized something: this beautiful blanket was doing nothing sitting there folded except staying white. And so I relented. I think it has something to do with the stitch of the blanket, but just like her sister, she laces her fingers (and toes) through the blanket and swims in all that softness.

Yesterday, I thought I'd see if I could just get her to like the blue one. I just really wanted to give the white blanket a shot at you know, STAYING WHITE. Plus, I love that teal one. And it's never too early to start pushing personal preferences on your children, right? 
Here she is with said blanket, just a few weeks old.
She seemed fine through the day with the new blanket, but when it came time for bed, she started pitching a fit. This is rather customary for her, and the night time fit is generally just a last ditch effort to not go to sleep. She usually gives up quickly, takes her binky, and goes to sleep. But not last night. Last night she was arching her back and yelling and seriously mad. Sometimes I think babies can't use words until they're a little older because if they could as infants, it would be chiefly obscenities. I was a little worried as I can customarily get her to settle quickly, but I was having no luck. I thought maybe she just wanted her bed as she is pretty keen on snuggling up and drifting off to sleep by herself. But that made things much worse. And suddenly I had the thought, "Just give her her blanket."

I scooped up that sad little thing, wrapped her in the white, soft blanket full of love, she nestled her head in, and she immediately went to sleep. I am not lying. I'm relatively sure my mother crochets some sort of invisible airborne drug that my children become addicted to into those blankets. There is truly something magic about them. All day she's been happy as a clam, her fingers laced through her blanket at all times. And I promised her I'd never take it away again. Except maybe when she's twenty. And her roommates think she's awkward. But until then, she's free to be safe and loved in that pretty white {for now} blanket.


lichelle said...

Warms my heart.

Lindsay RC Wilson said...

Are you saying that you think roommates with blankets (Lindsay, Kate, ...) are awkward?

eclaires said...

hahahahaha. I was going to post something almost identical to Lindsay's comment. :) Because heaven (and my roommate) knows that I love my kiki. :)


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