This morning I received an email from my mother, responding to rule number 8 in my recent post Rules for Nanowrimo where I mention that I will be using my baby Blankie as an emotional crutch as I write. Her email was a two-liner, “The baby blanket has come out of hiding. Good for you!”
First I should note that my mother probably sent this to me in an email, instead of a comment, because she is a rather private person and probably didn’t want to say anything like that on a public forum. Or she didn’t know how to leave a comment, but that is just unlikely. Obviously I am respecting her wishes. See what a good daughter I am??
Secondly, her email was well-timed. Yes Blankie has come out of hiding, but maybe a little too much. Yesterday things went too far. Sometimes in the mornings, if I am pissed off about having to be awake I will wear Blankie around my neck like a scarf. As I get ready. It ALWAYS comes off before I walk into work. But I have this new coat and the collar on the coat wraps around my neck. So I was getting ready, put on my coat without taking of Blankie, and I forgot about it because the collar covered it up.
Guess where I remembered that I was still wearing my Blankie.
Our monthly Board of Directors meeting.
I really hope no one noticed.
Seriously–Blankie is OBVIOUSLY a baby blanket. There is no passing off the ratty, yellow, old blanket as a scarf. Not even a hippie scarf.
Now for some history. I have slept with my Blankie since I was born. I turn 24 in 43 days. I have tried to stop twice. The first time I tried to stop was when I studied abroad in Italy for a year. I left my Blankie home in Portland, on purpose. That way I would be forced to sleep without it.
The plan worked; I started sleeping with a scarf. I woke up one morning and their was a scarf in my bed. I had no idea how it got there. I swear it crept in during the night. Addiction is a scary thing folks.
The other time I tried to quit was on the bike trip. I didn’t take Blankie along on purpose. I didn’t end up sleeping with a scarf, but I did have a very nice sleeping bag sheet that stayed with me every night.
My brother, when we were in high school once joked that I would never be able to sleep without Blankie. He said that I would keep my husband waiting in bed as I grabbed my Blankie and settled in. He has no idea how true those words have come to be. Well if he reads this then he will, but up until that last sentence he had no idea.
Fusband has been really understanding. Mostly he has just ignores Blankie. He will roll over and his face will become entrapped in the folds of Blankie’s depths, and after he claws his way to air he just pretends that nothing has happened. What a good sport. For a while there I tried to keep Blankie a secret from him, feeling that somehow the two shouldn’t mix; one the epitome of my childhood, the other a staple of my adult life. But at some point I decided I didn’t care. Or Blankie took over and decided for me. I am beginning to feel like Blankie is my Gollum and I am Smeagol.
Just writing all of this makes me want to go snuggle in bed. With Blankie. Why did I get out of bed this morning?