A Tale of Two Blankies

(Phenomenal Mom Fridays will return once my moms have submitted their blogs to me.  You can't rush a Mom's story, so I will continue to post the stories I've chosen as I receive them...)

When I was a baby, my mom purchased me a beautiful pink blanket.  The texture was that almost of a thermal blanket, but softer and covered in fuzz.  The edges were silky with zoo or circus animals.  The edges eventually unraveled and disappeared.  The soft fuzz covering the blanket also faded to nothing.  This left behind a beautifully faded, ragged pink blanket, affectionately named "Pinky."

Pinky has been with me through everything.  When I was having fun playing, Pinky was my dress up outfit, my cape, or the blanket to my babies as I played with them.  When I've been sad or suffered with years of illness, Pinky caught my tears and brought me comfort.  When we lost a beloved family pet, I cut a piece from Pinky to be buried with my pets.  I gave a piece because that was as close as I could come to giving them a piece of my heart to take with them.  And every animal we've had-minus water bound creatures-has spent time wrapped in Pinky or covered with Pinky or laying on Pinky.  Even when our beloved black cat, Salem, died 2 years ago, I sent a piece with him.  My niece N, who is now 8, received a specially made blanket (sewn by my BFFs Mom) with carefully selected fabrics and in the center, a piece of my Pinky.

Twenty-almost-six months ago, when my sweet baby Ayla was born, you can guess who was by my side in the hospital.  My mom?  Sure.  Brandon?  Of course.  I was surrounded by people I love.  And Pinky.
Me, Brandon, & Pinky (under my head)

A little bit of comfort in a pretty undesirable location (aka the hospital)
So...Ayla was born, and after spending some time with her, they wheeled her away for what seemed like forever (and it was a pretty long time).  Imagine my surprise when they wheeled her in with her own Pinky.

You can see the surprise in my face!
I told my Mom she was in charge of finding Ayla a "pinky" of her own.  And she did just that.  In fact, she found the exact same blanket (minus the animals on the silky border) in blue, green, and pink.  She had all the bases covered (we were contemplating not finding out the baby's gender).  Then, she topped that.  With the help of Henriette and Kathie, she was able to find a place to have it embroidered with Ayla's name.  Perfect timing meant she got a call from the place on the day Ayla was born to say that it would be ready that day.  My mom had Kathie call to tell them to put Ayla's birthday on the blanket under her name, and then she had Henriette pick up the blanket on the way to the hospital.  So when little Ayla got wheeled in with a fresh, new Pinky, I was super surprised.
Looking precious all snuggled in her own blanket
Ayla loves her blanket.  She calls it "Ayla Marley blanket."  But her true love, much to my dismay, is MY blanket.  She calls Pinky "Mama blankey," and she has to have it to sleep with.  She wants to take it with us wherever we go.  She cries for it if she can't find it.   She holds it, she snuggles it, she delights in having it with her.  When we leave the house, she searches it out as soon as we get home.  She wraps herself in it like a dress or like a hat.  She also wipes her nose on it and spills food on it.  And in the unfortunate instance of a diaper leak, well, you can figure it out.  


Which means that it gets washed A LOT.


It is unraveling more and more by the day. 
Ready to start her day!
Everyone keeps telling me I need to take it from her, hide it, and that she will thank me someday.  I see their point, but I don't know if I can do it.  
Two loves: Shrek & Mama blankey
I'm torn between the feeling of things are meant to be used and loved (which Pinky has been loved and used for the last 27 years) and bring people joy, which it so obviously does for Ayla.   But I also believe in preserving things, things to cherish, things to "go on" so to speak.
Cruisin'










































































For now, I choose in letting her have joy and love and comfort and fun, even when that means finding one random unraveled strand of my precious blanket at a time throughout the house.
A perfect accessory for any outfit
She even shares (but only with the cat).

And when (if) I change my mind, she has her own right?
(On an unrelated note, isn't it crazy how much her hair has grown in just a few months?!)

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