After a particularly long bedtime routine a few years back, I gingerly placed my calm and sleepy two-year-old in his crib only to realize that his "Boo," which was (and still is) his can't-sleep-without-it stuffed animal, was not in the crib. After laying Owen down, I raced downstairs, ran straight to the tricycle parked in the corner of the living room, opened up its covered trunk compartment, pulled out Boo, and raced right back upstairs, all the while praying that the hard-fought bedtime routine wouldn't be catastrophically affected. When I finally returned to the living room, my husband looked at me in awe and asked how in the hell I knew exactly where Boo was hidden. And my reply was, "I always know where Boo is hidden." And I still have my eye on that silly blue elephant. Boo was Owen's first best friend and his comfort during the transition into long nights alone in his room. Now, after three books and two stories, Boo still makes it possible for me to close Owen's bedroom door and claim an hour or two for myself every evening. Boo is important to the health and well-being of our whole little family.
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| Boo and the tattered remains of Strawberry Blanket |
Moral of the story: One of those "maternal instincts" that kick in once you become a mom includes instinctively knowing how to protect what's most important to your child. I'm sure my mom kept tabs on my Strawberry Blanket, just like I keep tabs on Owen's Boo, because she understood the importance of instilling in me an understanding that, even at bedtime when I was alone in my dark bedroom, I wasn't ever really alone. I know Owen's Boo won't always be able to provide the sort of comfort he craves in times of darkness, and as he grows I'm not sure what will replace Boo. But I am sure that I'll do my best to figure it out. And if I can't...Well, then I'll ask my mom.
3 comments:
You made me cry.
Around age 8 or 9, after a week of crying myself to sleep from not sleeping with my stuffed animal, Patch, I shuffled into Mom's bedroom sobbing, "What if I left him at cousin Drews!? What if he's in someone's garbage? What if he flew out the car window and is lying in a ditch somewhere missing me?!!" I sobbed on her bedroom floor for what felt like eternity. Eventually she sprung from her bed, threw open her closet doors, reached to the top shelf, pulled out Patch, and threw him at me. She thought that I was ready to part from his nightly company since apparently he had spent the first 5 days of the week crammed between my bed and the wall. "I was going to surprise you one day when you were older! Now get in bed!!!"
Molly, that story is hilarious! And I can totally see your mom doing that. =D
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