Ode to Emma and Bryan with a Y

Never understood the baby blanket.  Why not a baby sock as a transitional object.  A baby shoe.  A pillow.   A shirt.   It just seems so Random.

One of my brilliant younger cousins kept such tight hold of a cloth diaper for so many years (AKA her ‘blanket’), it disintegrated into a single strand of brown cotton. 

I believe she still has it?  (In her pocket?) 

I don’t remember having anything to shlep around.  I don’t remember my brother having anything either.   Perhaps this explains a Lot.

I’m encouraged, however, that Bryan has something—his own version of Linus’s bff.  I’m encouraged because I think about how smart and wonderful my cousin turned out. 

Please don’t pop my bubble only to inform me that Jeffrey Dahmer, too, dragged around a child’s blanket.  But you’re probably right.

Amidst the vast array of wisdom I have garnered from my son, Bryan has certainly taught me why the child’s blanket is so magical.  Put succinctly: it is simply the most versatile item ever created. 

In the course of 6 years, Bryan’s blanket has served the following purposes:

·      It’s a turban when he watches someone rub a magic lantern

·      a regular hat when his head’s cold

·      His blanket makes a great, small tent

·      It’s a towel in a pinch. 

·      it transforms into a cape when he’s a Superhero

·       a tablecloth on a picnic

·      (sometimes a napkin)

·      a flying carpet to get the h out of dodge when he’s in trouble

·      It’s a coat when there’s nothing else around

·      a wig when he imagines having long hair

·      An umbrella

·      A skirt

·      A rope to play tug-of-war

·      (sometimes a kleenex) (ew: sorry, but true)

·      it makes a great dog bed

·      often used as a pillow

·      he’s been known to jump rope with it

·      a ribbon that the winning runner breaks through

·      a matador’s cape for the dogs

·      a sleeping bag

·      a shield from something scary on TV

·      leg warmers

·      a sling for a broken arm

·      a makeshift eye patch for an impromptu pirate

·      and more

·      much MUCH more

Most of all, of course, this raggedy, old, (now) very thin piece of cloth, that can no longer even be washed for fear it will completely evaporate, is Bryan’s Salvation.   It’s His Religion.  The Answer to all that is Bad and Scary. 

I don’t remember if we brought this once-new relic to Guatemala when we picked him up.  I’d like to think we did. 

Having to acknowledge Its Importance, I realize that the child’s blanket, to the child, may very well be an extension of the umbilical cord: perhaps the very first thing inherited after leaving the warmth of total security (or, in Bryan’s case, having to leave All That He Knew).

I tend to think a child must believe that if they pull on their blanket long enough, if they pull on it hard enough, if there’s just enough desperation, perhaps they’ll get sucked back up into the safety of the womb. 

Likewise, perhaps, if they pull Just Right, the other way, Pure Freedom lies on the other end.

Whatever the case, I’ve grown to admire the Integrity and Dependablility of the baby blanket. 

That’s all for now: I’m off to check out Ebay.  no reason.