Lovey Dovey

“Mom, I feel like I am growing up but is it OK if I always have my lovey?”

Lovey. Issy. Blankey. Pompy. Chicken. These are actual names used by kids I know (or adults) for their soft, cuddly blanket.

I started thinking about the love of blankets the other day when a friend of mine texted me. Her daughter, now 7, found the soft, silky Little Giraffe-brand blanket I bought her when she was born. She asked where it came from. My friend explained it was a gift and her daughter replied, “I love blankey and it will be with me forever.”

I wasn’t a blanket kid. I had my thumb—it was always with me and I couldn’t lose it. But it did cost my parents thousands in orthodontist bills. Sorry, Mom. But I have a blanket kid— a lovey kid to be exact. Max has had his lovey since birth and still has it. You can see what is left of it in the picture above. He rubbed it to go to sleep, scared me by laying with it over his face while he slept, and took long sniffs of it and got the same drunk look on his face every time.

Lovey soothed boo-boos, nightmares, shots and was there after 3 surgeries. It was also introduced to every new stuffed animal that came into the house. “Knuffle Bunny, meet Lovey,” I once heard him say. When he was younger it went everywhere, even to preschool for naptime. Now, it remains in his bed to snuggle with when he sleeps. It doesn’t go to sleepovers or Scout camp but it did just leave for a week in Ohio. But I was told not to tell. Whoops.

“What would people say, Mom, if they knew a 9 year old was still carrying a lovey?” he asked.

“Don’t you think some of your friends have stuffed animals or blankets? Why don’t you ask B?” (“B” is a new friend who is starting 4th grade with Max. And a girl. She’s awesome, according to Max. And me.)

“Mom, she is a girl and girls are supposed to love soft cuddly things. Duh.”

Well, allrighty then.

So I explained that if lovey makes him happy, soothes him or helps him fall asleep then that is just fine. It is his business. No one has to know. (Well, except for the 22 of you who follow my blog. Pinky swear you won’t tell, K?)

“OK, Mom that sounds good and it can just be my secret, because it does make me feel good. And I think it always will,” he said. “Even when I am a grown up."