Blankets, Monkeys, and Bunnies, oh my!

All of my kids have some sort of cloth lovey or other they’ve formed an attachment to.  Drew is a full-blown Linus.  He latched onto a particular blanket when he was only several months old and has been dragging it around ever since.

Madeline has a pink monkey from the Ty Pluffie line.  She pretty much has that thing attached to her hip.  Except when it’s being washed, which is fairly often because who wants to go to bed with their monkey smeared with ketchup?

Even Adelaide has one.  Hers is a purple rabbit, also a Pluffie.  (I generally avoid stuffed bunnies because I think they look like they should be in an Easter basket somewhere, not just out for any ordinary day.)  She also has a Pluffie pink elephant, which she likes second best.

I know some parents don’t like their kids to have a security blanket or its equivalent.  They don’t want to deal with the weaning process later, I suppose.  (And some kids just never pick up on one.)

I don’t really mind all that.  I had one when I was little, and I didn’t take it to college with me (despite my mother teasing me once that I’d bring it on my honeymoon).  I grew out of it at some point along the way, and saved it in a box somewhere to show my kids if they’re ever interested in hearing about my childhood.

For my own kids, I’ve always thought the various loveys were great because they were something to snuggle with when we put them to bed or down for a nap.  They are comforting even when I can’t be around, that’s the bottom line.

When we’ve left the kids with babysitters, or they’ve been strapped in their carseats for a long trip or other adventure, or sleeping in a strange place, they’ve always been fine because they have that little piece of familiarity, a snuggly little reminder of home.

And I highly doubt they’ll be packing their blankets, monkeys, and bunnies into their stuff bound for college.