What to do about a geriatric blanket

As you may or may not know, I have a security blanket. Her name is Blankety. Yes she is a she and no she does not like to be called Blankie.

Blankety is 36 years old. That is very old in security-blanket years.

I made that same joke in a 2013 blog, but I’m banking on you not remembering it.

Over the years she has started to show the wear and tear that anyone would show if someone slept on top of them every night. The more worn out she gets, the less I wash her.

And before or while you’re saying eeew, if someone told you the Notorious RBG would live longer if she stopped showering, tell me you wouldn’t go take away her soap.

For awhile I washed Blankety every year or so give or take a year. I washed her right before BB was born. And since then, by nothing short of a miracle, she has stayed free from spit-up, vomit and all other bodily fluids that have spewed out of my child.

We’re going on 3 years since the last wash. That may be a record. I’m more and more concerned that she has very few washes left in her.

My mom and I have mended her many times. The issue now is that she’s disappearing. The material is fading away before my very eyes. It’s hard to say how mending can help her.

I also have a blanket we wrapped Angel Baby in. It wasn’t really a conscious decision, but the night she died, I snuggled that blanket right up to Blankety and they haven’t been parted since. I don’t need AB’s blanket quite the same way as I need Blankety, but when I was trying to pack as light as possible to go to DC, I left a big empty spot in my rolling suitcase.

I tell my therapist,

“Looks like I’m going to travel with both blankets.”

“Sounds totally fine. You’re not hurting anyone.”

No I’m not. But I’ve just doubled the number of blankets I need and refuse to wash.



Memorializing my baby at Claire’s

I got my ears pierced for the first time in my life.

When I was 10-12 I thought I would die if I didn’t get my ears pierced. My mom said if I made it to 16, I could do it then. When I turned 16, I didn’t care anymore.

Then I got pregnant again. I started daydreaming about what I wanted for a push present. For BB I designed 2 interlocking rings with her birthstone that I wear on my right hand. I toyed with the idea of getting my ears pierced for the next kid.

For whatever reason I still felt reluctant. Really why bother now? And I didn’t ask our midwife, but I figured if I’m not supposed to eat lunch meat, a body piercing can’t possibly be recommended.

Then we said goodbye to Angel Baby. A week later Captain had to work on a Saturday and BB and I were hanging out at home. I turned to her and said,

“Let’s go to Claire’s.”

She’s never been there, but she agreed.

To be a 36-year-old customer at Claire’s is a very odd feeling. I strapped BB into her stroller. A toddler loose in Claire’s is enough to raise my heart rate just thinking about it.

I sit in the piercing chair with BB in the stroller beside me. I tell the Claire’s employee,

“This is my first time getting my ears pierced.”

A mom and her 6-year-old daughter overhear me and stop to stare. The mom points at BB,

“Is it the first time for her or for you?”

“For me.”

“Really? The first time for YOU? Not for her?” And she points at BB again.

Yes, I’m very sure I’m the one getting my ears pierced and not my daughter, although if she makes it to 10 or 12 years old that’s another story.

I ask the young woman piercing my ears,

“In your experience, what’s the oldest person who’s gotten their ears pierced for the first time?”


So there you have it, I’m still doing it on the young side.

I notice the woman’s name badge. It’s the same name we gave our Angel Baby. I hadn’t planned on telling anyone at Claire’s anything, but now of course I unload on this poor young woman. She is very kind.

And there I am, in Claire’s, surrounded by 6-year olds, sobbing and getting my ears pierced for the first time.

We named Angel Baby after a unicorn from one of my favorite childhood books, so now anything unicorn is kinda my thing.

I opted for gold stud earrings because I have to wait until my ears are healed to wear the earrings I really want. Captain, who forgot there’s a market for little kid jewelry, says,

“Good luck finding unicorn earrings.”

“Don’t worry, they’re a thing.” Mostly for people under 12, but for at least one 36-year-old and maybe an 85-year-old.

People do any number of things to memorialize their losses: services, gardens, crafts, you name it. I got unicorn earrings, in honor of Angel Baby.



BB may have gotten a unicorn purse. And a unicorn bracelet. But that’s really it. Because I’d already bought a unicorn mug from HomeGoods. And a tiny unicorn figurine to put next to the family photo by my bed