March 1, 2008

A Good Day to Jump

I should have seen the warning signs. It had seemed listless of late. Yesterday morning I could even smell urine on it. It should have been clear to me that it had stopped caring. But I was too wrapped up in my blog, my sewing, my all important life to notice what should have been obvious. And yesterday, it took the most desperate action of all, it's life. Pixie's purple baby blanket is no more.

It was shaping up to be the perfect day. I was at Disneyland brunching with faboo friends on a fifth floor balcony of the Grand Californian Hotel. The sun had come out after weeks of gloom and the group of us were relaxing under an overgrown pergola eating chocolate cherry cake. For the afternoon, children were overfed in Africa, the ozone layer had never been thicker and George W. Bush could pronounce the word, "nuclear." The group of us sat around a table laughing and swapping, 'aren't we fabulous' looks while hummingbirds investigated our colorful bags. Then my three year old Pixie tapped my arm. "Mom, where's my purple blanket?"

Some of you may remember this blanket. It's the ratty piece of chenille Pixie has had since birth and carries with her everywhere. "Well where did you have it, sweetie?" I asked. She shrugged and her bottom lip began to quiver. I stretched lazily out of my teak chair and began to look around. The balcony wasn't very large in I quickly deduced the blanket was missing. "Pixie, can you tell me where it might be?"
"I think it fell over the balcony..."

The sight was enough to make my insides churn. From my view over the railing, I could see it laying in a twisted heap below. It had landed on an overhang just above the first floor. There was no way we could reach it.

It seemed to have a peace in death that it never possessed in life. A knowledge that its soul would never again have to endure the atrocities of living with a three year old. The boogers, the pee, the sneezing. For three years it had endured all silently, but on that beautiful day, the ironies of its existence proved too much for our silent purple friend and it took it's own life. The hostess of our lunch joined us at the railing and offered her own words of comfort to my grief-stricken child. "It's okay, honey. From now on, your purple blanket will always live at Disneyland."

And isn't that what we all really want anyways? Rest in peace, purple blanket. The worst is over. Rest in peace.

22 comments:

Few ox said...

I think it's great that she can always take comfort in the fact that her blanket will live in Disneyland from now on. At least it wasn't just missing and she'd always wonder where it was.

Few ox said...

I think it's great that she can always take comfort in the fact that her blanket will live in Disneyland from now on. At least it wasn't just missing and she'd always wonder where it was.

chronicler said...

I call it Disney Karma. Probably some of the best you can get.

S'mee said...

All in all Pixie took it much better than I would have anticipated. It's amazing what a Princess stamp and some magenta ink will do.

(On a small green balcony sleeps a snuggly little squirrel, wrapped in purple chenille...life really is good at Disneyland)

The Wiz said...

That's so sad for her. May you find a new friend that helps her fall asleep, because man, if we lost our pink blanket, war would be declared.

But it does help that it's lost in Disneyland.

Glad to see you weren't murdered after all.

seven said...

Wait, so you could see it but not reach it? Did it fall off a cliff or something?

bythelbs said...

So the beloved yet nasty blanket is gone AND it wasn't your fault--bonus!

Perla said...

How sad that I didn't first think about how my kids would react if one of their blankets went missing--I was more concerned about if MY blanket went missing. Its probably all for the best.

CailĂ­n said...

My brother's blanket lives on inside his quilt...as a teenager he had my mother sew it into a quilt she made for his bed. He is 40 years old now and still sleeps with his blanky.

I am glad to hear Pixie survived the loss of hers.

Colleen said...

Classic. I hope you tipped your hostess well for offering such insightful words of solace.

cworth said...

oh dear.. how's pixie? we have a blanket fetish at our house too, i can only imagine the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth that will carry on for quite some time. good luck to you.

Jill said...

My daughter has a "blankie " also. Grandma made it for her when she was a baby. She once cried herself to sleep in front of the washing machine because I dared to wash it.
She's 9 now and still sleeps with the pink blanket. She says she will be taking it with her to college.

Lucy said...

I still have a little square of my son's "blue blanket". He's 37 now. Thankfully, he doesn't have the yen to find the little square. Very thankfully. I have pictures of him as a 3 year old outside holding the blanket with one hand and feeling in on his right cheek while it was on the line hanging out to dry. When it finally rotted down to a square, I folded it and put it in my cedar chest. I should have thought of the Disneyland analogy.

On the plus side, he's a very well adjusted 37 year old now. Does that mean something? Would Freud care?

Thursday Girl/Hollis the Cat said...

Great post!

Only...what if next time you all go to Disneyland she thinks she will get to see it again?

I'll be you've got that covered... ;)

I still hope to be a mom someday and when/if that happens, I hope to be able to do so with the love, wit and humor you seem to approach 'mom-dom" with!

Amy

Sue said...

Oh, poor Pixie. RIP blankie... (What a smart friend you have, by the way... The blankie living at Disneyland - genius.)

Karen said...

Gosh, how's Pixie doing with this? Because that's huge, losing a blankie.

Nat said...

My children also have favorite blankets. It makes me wonder how they'll meet their demise (the blankets, not my children).

Jamie J said...

Rachel has not one, but two blankies she carries everywhere. God help us the day they decide to commit suicide....

Anonymous said...

We all know you pushed it ;)
~seastar

Susan M said...

Actually, it would've been Pixie herself that tossed it off the balcony, right? Maybe she wanted her blanket to live forever at Disneyland.

I was there and noticed a pink balloon drifting off into the sky. All kinds of symbolism that day!

Right Brained Gal said...

I hate to admit it, but my daughter is 26, a lawyer, and while visiting her in Chicago, I noticed she still has a piece of her baby blanket which she keeps in her room. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. It does kind of creep me out. We used to tease her in high school, and I had no idea she still had it through seven years of college. I wish I would have thought of the Disneyland drop off.

drainey said...

This was one of my favorite things I have read on here.