A boy and his blankie
“I understand that you little guys start out with your woobies and you think they’re great… and they are, they are terrific. But pretty soon, a woobie isn’t enough. You’re out on the street trying to score an electric blanket, or maybe a quilt. And the next thing you know, you’re strung out on bedspreads Ken. That’s serious.” — Jack Butler, played by Michael Keaton, in the 1983 movie “Mr. Mom”
I can still see his tiny body swaddled inside the blue blanket.
In its original form, it was plush microfiber, trimmed in blue silk, with a little toy train stitched onto the lower right corner. Among baby shower gifts given by a family friend, I quickly packed it away with things my husband and I took to the hospital as we awaited the birth of our oldest son Ty.
Much like his big sister, he became attached to his blanket pretty quickly. But, unlike his sister, it took longer for my 5-year-old son to detach.
But he’s finally letting go of “Babies”–the name Ty gave his blanket when he was too young to properly say “blankie.”
Babies has been there for every moment, it seems: bedtime, each nap, Christmas mornings, movie nights, scraped knees and story times. While Ty never took Babies with us in public, his father and I have wondered if Babies would be enrolled in college someday.
But I was sure it would be best if Ty resolved to retire Babies on his own, rather than have us intervene.
Though I’m happy he’s growing up, feeling secure enough to let go of his security blanket, I did fight back tears the first time I realized he was watching a movie without Babies.
“Babies is in my bed, Mom. I don’t need him anymore. Just when I sleep sometimes,” Ty said.
A calm “OK” was all I could say in response, smiling as I walked upstairs to his bedroom.
Sure enough, Babies was rolled in a ball on the top bunk.
I took a brief moment to quickly remember all of the wonderful times we shared with Babies in the room. And I was sure of one thing: My little boy is growing up.