Sunday, May 15, 2011


Brooklyn lived for her precious passie, Elllie still hasn't given up her beloved thumb, and Leighton is hardly ever without her lovely blankie (or "gankie" as she calls it).  It is yet another example of just how different three human beings taken from the same gene pool can be.  She can't fall sleep without it, must have it near her mouth while she sleeps, and insists on holding it close when she drinks her "baba" (Should a 16 month old still take a bottle? She should if she's your last baby!).

I, like Leighton, was a blankie girl.  I liked my blankie cold, so I would hang it out the window on road trips or put it in the fridge for a few minutes before bed (weird I know).  Anyway, I remember the day when I decided blankets were for babies and I must get rid of mine.  I was 5 or 6 and was having a playdate with an older boy from across the street.  I snuck my blankie out to the dumpster in the alley and threw it in.  That was it.  Never slept with it again.  Probably because I quickly moved on to a stuffed bear that was my nighttime companion until my honeymoon night when I turned it in for one that could cuddle back.

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