This seems like a fun and silly topic to blog about. As a child, I had many, many stuffed animals that I adored. I had a trio that lived on my bed full-time: Mousie, a gray mouse that played a lullaby when you wound him up (and the only one that had a name); a brown, skinny bunny rabbit with tall, floppy ears; and a bear that had a noisy little ball tail and some flowers sewn to her head (while the bunny and bear didn't have names, I apparently was certain about their sexes).
As much as I loved my little bedtime trio, nothing came close to my affinity for my Blue Blankie. I was given a blanket as I baby (I assume), and it soon became the most coveted item in my possession. It was blue and made out of a thermal material, so it felt nice and cool when it was laying out on my bed. I referred to this object exclusively as my Blue Blankie- not my blankie, not my blanket or (God forbid) my security blanket. It was my Blue Blankie, by God.
My Blue Blankie would accompany me to the living room on occasion, especially when it was time for Saturday Morning Cartoons. Blue Blankie was also very comforting when I was sick. But no place or time was more important to have Blue Blankie than bedtime. I literally would not- could not- even think about going to sleep if I didn't have Blue Blankie in hand (or wrapped around my arm or neck). If I didn't immediately see Blue Blankie, I would frantically tear through the sheets and blankets (where Blue Blankie was normally wrapped up) until I had it in hand. It was a deep, satisfying friendship that I was loathe to give up. Seriously.
Due to the normal wear and tear of schlepping a blanket around the house, Blue Blankie had to go through some changes as I grew up. It started getting pretty ripped up, so at some point, my mom sewed a quilted backing and a ribbon border on my Blue Blankie. Crisis averted! Blue Blankie was able to survive a few more years. Once it became too ripped up to deal with, my mom convinced me to retire Blue Blankie by providing me with a brand new one. I'm not sure why this was acceptable, as I was 11 or 12 by that time (yes, you read that right) and it wasn't the same shade of blue. But accept the new Blue Blankie I did, and our companionship continued. Into adulthood.
Checking that last paragraph to make sure I did, in fact, say adulthood? Yes, dear reader, I did. While Blue Blankie no longer left my bed, it was still a mainstay throughout my teen years. There's a picture of me sleeping in New Orleans on a trip with my parents, and there's Blue Blankie laying across my face. I was probably 16. When I went off to college, there was no need to worry about hiding Blue Blankie from my dorm roommate- it was Melissa, who had her own "Softie" (I'm pretty sure the fact that we both had blankies is the primary reason we became best friends). I didn't even hide Blue Blankie from my first serious boyfriend, who moved in with me knowing that he would be sharing a bed with a blankie.
As I got older, my Blue Blankie got more and more threadbare until eventually, it was a much smaller square of fabric. By then, it was more of an issue having it around since I would have boyfriends over- I was, after all, in my mid-20s. I finally got the point where I had to choose--I couldn't have a security blanket if I was hoping to get married someday. So one day, in a cutthroat purge, I was done with Blue Blankie. I was shocked that I was able to give it up without looking back, since I had clung to it so adamantly for my whole life. Keep in mind, I did this while I was living in California, so I'm pretty sure this happened less than 10 years ago. I still have my original Blue Blankie stashed away (I think), and I look forward to someday having a child of my own and introducing her to her own Blue Blankie.
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