A Boy and His Blankie...

My Bruiser is a true blankie boy. He is all about that blankie.

And it looks horrible. Honestly. I promise I wash it. Although someone once suggested perhaps it was the reason he kept having ear infections via colds.... Not a comment I appreciated, I can assure you.

But probably not unwarranted.....

As long as Bruiser has his blankie...and his Momma...he's good.

Not only is this shredded to bits well worn blanket a prized possession, but Bruiser also has a special corner of his beloved.

This corner, recently deemed his "chewer" or at times his "chew," is a long piece of one of the ripped corners. He chews on it, he slaps his face with it, he waves it around...he even uses it as a weapon.

It's wet.

It's disgusting.

It stinks.

It's adorable.

There are times, when he's really sleepy, that he'll ask me, "Momma, will you find my chewer?"

It melts this Momma's heart.

In this picture you can see him picking up his chewer.  That's how he would do it.  He'd lay out his blankie, just so, and then pick it up.

And though you can't hear my sniffles, I'm sure you have guessed.  Since my last pargraph was written in past tense you probably have it all figured out.

The beloved chewer is no more.

Not sure how it happened.  Probably came off in the washer yesterday.  We've searched all over.  I was not above pinning or even sewing it back on.  But alas, it is with us no more.

And I'll admit.  I cried.

I was standing in the kitchen and this pitiful little raspy voice was calling me.  He came and stood right next to me.  His voice even raspier than usual.  He buried himself into me...his chewer had come off.

Blast it.  I'm crying now.

It was really rough.  I'm sure it sounds silly to some.  If you only knew.....  Our little Bruiser has been our one with repeated ear infections.  Three sets of tubes.  Basically no hearing for awhile.  As a result, his speech has been slow.  He even speaks with a speech impediment.  We did speech therapy for 9 months.  Probably will have to have more therapy.

And through all his infections, his pain, etc. he's had that blankie.  And his chew.  But no more.

I held him on the couch for I don't even know how long.  I found several other corners for him to make a new chew.  It didn't help.  But as I snuggled with him last night in bed, encouraging him to make this one area his new special chewer, he somehow drifted off to sleep without it.

So farewell, chewer.  Oh, how we loved you.  You will be missed.  But perhaps this is the proverbial cowboy riding into the sunset.  Perhaps this is a growth tool for my boy.  Perhaps, as we near his 4th birthday in 5 days, this is a step towards maturity.  And perhaps my ultimate Momma's boy will soon allow someone else besides Momma to pour his milk, to tuck-tuck-tuck him into bed at night, to snuggle with him while watching "Fub-Bub," to put his shoes on, to do everything else for him.  Perhaps.

Or perhaps I can just keep him my little Momma's boy for awhile longer.  Like maybe forever.

Who knew a blasted chewer would produce this many tears from Momma?