Quite a Scare

Allow me to introduce you to Lovey. Lovey is Tanner's comfort object. Yes, I meant to capitalize Lovey because it is a proper noun in our house ... Tanner almost considers it a person, I think. In his head, he cannot live without Lovey. And on Friday evening, Lovey disappeared.

Yes, we had quite a scare. If any of your children have a lovey (or a bear, or a baby), you will understand how devastating this was for our little man. Kendall has always had a lovey- her pink and white bunny blanket. For years, she wouldn't go anywhere without hers. So it was inevitable that Tanner would have one as well. My cousin Laurie even bought Tanner the same kind of lovey, a blue and white bunny blanket. So from the day he was in his own bed, I have had that bunny blanket in Tanner's bed. It took a long time before he bonded with that blanket. I don't really have evidence of a bond until around March 2007. There are a few pictures here and there, but nothing like what we have with Lovey now.

For months, Tanner could care less about that bunny blanket. He wanted it when he slept, but it didn't soothe him much during the day. The only crazy thing was that he wouldn't suck his thumb without having his lovey in the crook of his arm. Once the connection was made between the two (lovey and thumb), it was never broken.

Now some of you are thinking, "Now wait a minute. I've seen Lovey, and he ain't no blue and white bunny blanket." Well, you are correct. Starting sometime around January, Tanner started taking a liking to anything silky. He would use my nightgowns, Kendall's dress-up clothes, her PJ pants, a Barbie dress. Then, one day while cleaning out my drawer I stumbled upon a scarf I bought in college. It's is tiger striped and silky. Once Tanner found it, that was it. Lovey was born.

Now it is hard to find Tanner without Lovey. It always travels in our diaper bag and rides in the car seat with Tanner. Lovey swims, rides tractors, eats dinner at our table, sits in timeout, and goes grocery shopping. Tanner must have it to sleep. And really, there is no replacement. It smells disgusting, as most comfort objects do. It has holes in it where he has chewed on it until he could get his thumb through a hole (therefor making it easier to hang onto, I guess). When I have to wash it (which he does let me do occasionally), he paces in front of the washing machine and dryer while it is being cleaned. And once it is out, he is ecstatic.

So on Friday, Kendall and Tanner had been playing all over the place ... outside, upstairs, in bedrooms, jumping on beds ... so when Lovey came up missing, we weren't even sure where to start looking. Naturally, we didn't realize it was missing until bathtime, which didn't give us much time to turn the house upside down looking for it. Tanner walked around yelling, "Lo-vey. Where are you?" while Tim and I pulled out toys, looked under furniture, checked cabinets, looked under the deck outside, everything. After searching for a bout an hour, we came up with nothing. It was bedtime and I had to prepare Tanner for a night without Lovey ... and perhaps many nights afterwards.

So as bedtime neared, we talked about sleeping with "new lovey" and how we would find "other Lovey" tomorrow. He was agreeable until we sat down in the rocking chair.

"Mommy, where udder Lovey go?"

"Lovey went bye-bye, Babby. You're gonna sleep with new lovey tonight. Remember?"

"OK."

And so it went on for 20 minutes or so. I would rock and hum, he would sit quietly with 3 or 4 other silky objects crammed in the crook of his arm. Just when I thought he was drifting off, he would say, "Mommy, where udder lovey go?" I finally got him to get in his bed and fall asleep after about 45 minutes, but it didn't last. Tanner woke up several times that night asking for Lovey. It was heartbreaking.

Saturday the kids went to Mom's to spend the day and night so Tim and I could go to Athens. I mentioned to her that Lovey was lost, but not to mention anything about it and maybe he would forget. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Nope. When he got home Sunday, first thing he said to me was, "Mommy, where udder lovey go?"

I was prepared for the fact that I had probably scarred my little boy for life. He would never be comforted again in his times of need. He would be unable to love and nurture his own children and to care for his wife. He would become a cynical and pessimistic man because his comfort abject was taken away too early. How would he ever survive?

Then it happened. We were upstairs cleaning the playroom (which had been turned inside-out twice, mind you) when Tanner yelled, "I foun udder lovey, Mommy!!!" I've never seen him so happy! Never! He immediately stuck Lovey in the crook of his arm, stuck his thumb in his mouth and laid down on the floor in the middle of the room. I honestly thought he would drift off to sleep right there . . . it was so sweet.

So all is well in the world. Lovey has returned. Tanner is whole ... and happy. And I will never again be embarrassed by the fact that my son carries a tiger-striped Lovey everywhere he goes.

Animal print is in, after all!