Jackson has two blankies that are his extra appendages. He doesn't make a move without considering them. They are his best friends. If he is feeling bad or sad or has just gotten in trouble, he snuggles them and says that they make him feel all better. I was a blankie girl myself, snuggling my own pink receiving blanket for far too many years, so I totally love this about him. Jackson's first blankie is a sweet yellow blanket with bears on it. My friends Monica and Chris gave it to us when we were several months pregnant with J. It was the first baby gift I allowed to be opened after I sort of passed the 12 week mark in my pregnancy. The second blankie is white with delicate blue stripes and cute little puppies on the flip side. It is so soft. My friend Christine gave it to me with a set of matching jammies at my baby shower. It's funny because Holden was wearing the matching jammies several months ago and Jackson sort of stared at him in disbelief. He got up very close to Holden and touched the jammies, looking incredulous and sad. I had to explain to him that they were not his blankie, they just were the same fabric. I had to physically show him his blankie was ok and had not been sacrificed to his baby brother for pajamas.
So these two blankies survived infancy, and bypassed all the other dozens of blankets that were given to us at the time of Jackson's birth, to become the blankies. Jackson cannot sleep without them. They are drug up and down the stairs all day long. They sit with him at lunch. The roll around the floor with him in the playroom. They snuggle with him in his bed. They are capes, make-shift tents, and parachutes. They are also stained, smelly, and gross. And he will not let me wash them. I repeat: he will not let me wash them. That isn't to say that this germaphobic mama doesn't wash them; it just has to be a very stealth, covert mission. I have to wash them first thing in the morning when he's hyper and running around and not in need of a nap or a snuggle (who am I kidding -this kid rarely naps or snuggles anymore anyway). I have to wrap them up in a disguise of sheets or towels, run with them to the washer downstairs, and dump them in and start the wash (on HOT) before he notices. If for some reason he does require said blankies while they are washing or drying, I have to distract him. I throw on his favorite video, or pull out the bubbles, or in desperate times - offer him cookies. And on the rare occasions I have been discovered washing and drying the blankies, a meltdown of epic proportions usually occurs. He wails and screams that he does not want his blankies washed. If they are in the dryer I usually pull them out -- even if they are slightly damp-- and thrust them into his tearful, heaving arms. Then he will usually cry and scream that he doesn't want warm blankies. He wants them cold!!!!!!!! NO WARM BLANKIES!! So I flap the blankies around until the delicious warmth leaves them, and they return to their cold, stained state. (oh yes, those stains are there for life -- and I'm a stain removal queen!) The tears usually subside within a half an hour or so, and life returns to status quo. Until the next covert blankie washing mission.