Security

When Rachel was nine months old she used her brand new crawling skills to reach a stack of clean blankets I had folded and placed on a chair. She pulled them down one at a time, examining each one closely, running it through her fingers and touching it to her face. When she had thoroughly experienced the blanket, she tossed it aside and reached for the next one. She continued this process until she reached the plainest, least embellished blanket we had, a gift she had received from a family friend. A simple purple crocheted number with no pictures, ribbons or special features. When she got to this one she stuck her thumb in her mouth and proceeded to roll around on the floor until she was wrapped up in the purple blanket. Dan turned to me and said, "I guess Rachel has a blankey." Indeed.

[Photo taken January 2007 when Rachel was about 14 months old. Oh man do I miss her being that small.]

This was unfamiliar territory for us because Anna never had a security item other than her thumb. But from the moment she chose that blanket she had to have it at all times. She had a very specific routine with it, as seen above. She would clutch a corner of the blanket in her right hand while she sucked her right thumb. With her left hand she felt along the wavy edges and sometimes stuck her fingers through the crochet holes. Sometimes I'd play a game with her and find the other corners and show them to her. She'd smile behind the thumb and gather all the corners together in her hand.

And when she was really feeling affectionate, when she really wanted to show some love, she would hold out a part of the blanket and rub it against my cheek. It would absolutely melt my heart.

This was all well and good until Rachel started walking. She waited until she was 15 months old to do so but when it finally happened she dragged the blankey everywhere. At which point my mother the crocheting master decided to recreate the blankey in smaller form. This project was completed in the summer of 2007 and when it was presented to her I cautiously explained that the original blankey would now stay in her bed while this new one would be the one she could carry around. I held my breath, waiting for what was surely to be some form of resistance. She inspected it, sucked her thumb with it, felt along the edges and I swear she almost shrugged. Not a single complaint came forth from her sweet face. She even found some new ways to enjoy blankey.



The ease of the transition stunned everyone. It was the first time I remember clearly thinking to myself that this child was very different from her sister.