As i have been a crafter since god was a boy, it was only natural that when my womb began to increase with my very own human larvae that i would make him a blanket for snuggling and assorted whatnot.
His first blanket was a light aquamarine blue, crocheted in soft baby acrylic yarn.
and he loved it and loved it and and couldnt’ go to sleep without it.
(and internally i was all YES! *I* made that! suck it baby blanket buyers! harsh? maybe.)
ANd that was all well and good until he was @18 months and the eczema showed up like an unwelcome and scabby houseguest.
History: the Old Man is quite the delicate flower where fibers are concerned. Cannot wear a THING unless it is 100% cotton, or damn near. When he was a child, he was covered in the those adorable red splotchy patches that make people think you’re a leper. In almost all his toddler pics, he is scratching at his elbows. When it comes to eczema, he has a hate-hate-i will fucking CUT YOU relationship, and tends to lose all sense of rational thought. He remembers the itch like that ugly sweater your aunt Hilde made for you and your mother forced you to wear every Thanksgiving. Hell, he’s prolly scratching right now reading this.
(yeah, he actually reads my stuff, sometimes, if there is no sporting event visible or scheduled.)
So, when the splotches appeared on my lil one’s legs, we assumed the worst, natch. Anything not made of cotton was declared verboten, and was tossed (clothes) or covered (carseat) so that he could only know the soft spelndor that is one of “world’s dirtiest crops” : cotton.
But what about blankie? After many a wash and lovie session, it had attained that acrylic feel of, well, acrylic. You know–like an old sweater that just don’t feel right. You can’t explain why, but it’s just….meh.
But he still loved it, still slept with it, still dragged it along, the ever present Linus.
The Old Man looked me solidly in the eye, took my hand and told me, it HAD to be replaced.
(shut-UP blanket buyers!)
Since he wouldn’t snuggle up to a quilt in quite the same way, my only choice was to hie off to Michael’s to find what kind of cotton yarn they offered. Strangely enough, they had a soft cotton baby yarn, in the same shade as his previous blanket. Kismet. All right then.
hook in hand, i crocheted until my fingers were numb, and then i crocheted some more.
And when it was done, we just switched them. And it was like he’d never had another blanket. Insert thumb in mouth and commence self soothing. And Benji liked it too.
And it has been with him ever since. Linting on all the furniture, capturing the dog as if he were the Green Goblin to Ben’s Spider man, and attracting every dust bunny i failedl to sweep up.
And slowly–ever so slowly, falling apart.
Bits would come off here and there. Holes would get larger. Like some sort of Hansel and Gretel, he would leave a trail of blanket bits in order to find his way back.
Till, finally, it has come down to this:
This is all that’s left. In fact, he lost it this morning in his own bed and came into our room wanting to know where it was (under his pillow, of course. But how could anyone find ANYTHING without mommy help at 530 in the morning, i ask you? *grumble*)
My husband and i discussed this a while back. Do i make him another one or let this one simply dissolve into nothing?
We agreed that we would let it go. That there is a lesson here that all youngun’s have to learn. That unlike Linus, you cannot carry your blanket around forever and that letting go of things is a part of life. Like saying goodbye to that Winger cassette that just doesn’t play right (like it ever did), or my hair crimper. (seriously–we DID that to our hair?)
But my resolve is weakening.
I am fearful of that first night when the blanket isn’t there. I am not sure i’m ready to be pragmatic against the tears and the whines and the absolute heartbreak that will come with its absence.
Which leads me to today’s discovery. a second blanket i made for the car–out of the acrylic yarn, which shouldn’t be a problem since he’s only shown to have the eczema, and not the skin allergies. He’s worn other fibers without a problem.
I know. I’m a coward.
And the fact is, now that he’s had a cotton blanket for so long, he always eschews the acrylic one. ANY acrylic one.
(SUCK IT, blanket buyers)