Without bothering to do any research on it, I would say the majority of us grow up with some kind of security item. I had a blanket that my great aunt made me, and I used it until there were big, gaping holes in the poor thing. Linus from Peanuts said he would turn his blanket into a sport coat when he got older so he never had to give it up. “Comfort objects” are mentioned in The Giver. My oldest daughter absolutely adored her pacifier, which was incredibly difficult to get her to give up. My youngest daughter, however, has Bunny Blanky.
While I was pregnant with my first daughter I cross-stitched a baby blanket, with a cute picture of a bunny in pj’s sitting on the moon. She liked it, but the only thing she was really, truly attached to was that dang pacifier (thank you, hospital staff, for not asking me if it was okay to give this addictive drug to my child). I made another cross-stitched baby blanket when I was pregnant with Claire, but this time with a scene from Peter Rabbit.
Claire was not a very happy baby, but from the very beginning there was something special to her about this blanket. She spit out pacifiers like they were poison, but as she got into her toddler years her bond with Bunny Blanky only grew stronger.
I had to have some rules about this, though. It sounds mean, right? To tell your child she can’t take her most precious item to the pool? Or to the grocery store? Well, do you have any idea how long it took me to make all those stitches? Bunny Blanky is pretty much irreplaceable. Besides, it would make an odd looking business suit at her first job interview.
Claire is 5 now, and just started kindergarten. She is used to the rule about not taking Bunny anywhere with her, but as soon as she gets off the bus she wraps her arms around him and tells him how much she missed him. She even made him a Valentine’s card this year. Bunny has been washed many times (often when Claire isn’t at home, because according to her he takes f o r e v e r to get clean). When a thread works loose, Claire is devastated until I fix it. She knows she has to get rid of her clothes when they don’t fit her anymore, and has asked me countless times if she’ll have to get rid of Bunny since her little feet stick out from under the bottom edge now. (I always tell her no.)
Am I concerned? Well, no. I still have the cow pillow my mom made me when I was little, and the teddy bear Santa gave me in 1st grade, but the cow lives on a shelf in my closet and Fudge Bear has made his way to the room my daughters share. Claire will only give up Bunny when she’s good and ready, and it’s nice to know that she feels the love I put in all those stitches.