Before men become men, they are their mothers' little boys

I read a beautiful post at Bush Babe of Granite Glen. She recounts the story of her baby boy's lost teddy bear, and why finding it was so important. You can read it HERE.

Little boys, they grow up so quickly and sometimes it happens in an instant. Bush Babe's story reminded me of my little boy and his blankie, a quilted, white cotton rectangle that started out as a changing pad. He didn't care. He loved this thing and it went with him everywhere. I wasn't allowed to wash it as the smellier it became, the more he loved it. "Leave it crunchy," he'd admonish me when I tried to sneak it into the machine. It got to the point where I'd want to pick it up with tongs. The binding at the edges started to wear first, because he liked to drag the blanket's edges through his fingers and under his nose, breathing deeply, while he sucked his thumb.

Round and round went this blankie through his tiny hands, and it was plain that the cotton must have had some magical properties since he turned into a limp rag when he touched it. At nap time, he succumbed quickly and quietly, his eyes rolled back in equals parts bliss and stupor, with the blankie stuffed in his face. But as the years went by, we faced a dilemma. He sucked his thumb with the blankie, and only with the blankie, and once he turned four-years-old, my husband the dentist gravely informed our boy he'd have to stop sucking his thumb or it would affect his permanent teeth.

Now, our little guy had a long history with this thumb of his. In fact, an ultrasound taken when I was several months pregnant showed him hiccuping and heartily sucking his thumb even then. It was not going to be easy to convince this child to give up a habit he's enjoyed since he floated around in utero. And since a blankie is to a thumbsucker what coffee is to a cigarette smoker, he'd probably have to abandon both at the same time for this to work. This called for tough love, but I sure wasn't going to enforce the new rules, and neither could my husband when it came down to it. Look at this little face (standing with his big sister) and tell me you'd do otherwise.

Our little boy was an intelligent child, and had a practical nature, so we sat him down, presented the problem, and asked him what he thought he should do.

After considering his options, he decided that he'd give up his blanket, and therefore his love affair with his thumb, when we brought our first puppy home. Rosie, a Black Lab, would soon be old enough to leave the litter and move in with us. That was several weeks away, so there would be time to adjust and accept the decision. Done.

Well, the weeks went by and in the flurry of excitement of bringing home our very first puppy, I forgot all about our boy's promise. I settled little eight-week-old Rosie into her crate that first night, and then I stood back to see if she'd calm down and sleep.

Then I turned and saw my little boy, solemnly walking down the stairs, holding his folded blankie in front of him with all the ceremony of a ring bearer at a wedding. If he had second thoughts, it didn't show on his face. Without a word or even a glance at me, he walked up to the crate and placed his blankie beside the puppy who had a good sniff, then snuggled into it.

Satisfied, he looked up at me. "Rosie needs it more than me. She's probably missing her mommy and all her brothers and sisters right now, and this will help her feel better."

That was the last time he sucked his thumb. And he became a young man right in front of me.