19 September 2012


At the end of my pregnancy, I decided that Henry should have a special blanket, one that we could introduce early on and that he would grow to love.  Silly me. 

This is Henry's crib. 
It looks like this every night when I put him to bed.  At the back, you see: an Issie Blanket, a soft Sophie, and a silky bear.  On the right, there is a cozy and soft organic blanket.  And on the left?  One of my old pajama shirts.  After all of my searching, all of the love I poured into my choices, Henry's comfort object is my old purple shirt.  I'm touched, really I am.  I like peeking in to see him sleeping with the shirt snuggled under his chin.  And yet, I still search for the "perfect" blanket: a blanket he'll carry with him on trips or use as a cape or a picnic blanket.  One of these days, perhaps I'll accept that this is his comfort and not mine...

Henry and the purple shirt 
He spent 15 minutes putting the shirt in the washer and taking it out again. 

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