Every little boy needs a "minny"...

I got the inspiration for this post the other night at my parents house. While I was at work, my wonderful and gracious parents baby sat Jace. They adore him. He adores them.

When my Mom went to grab Jace out of the Pack and Play he was snuggling in, she also pulled out Jace's 'minny'. His hand woven, (by a family friend) comfy, blue and white blanket. For the last several months Jace has been pretty attached to this thing. He even gives it kisses.

Now here is why we call it a 'minny.' about 3 years ago when my nephew Jackson began to talk he called his lime green and blue blanket his 'minny'. Now, we weren't sure at all where this came from. my sister had never used this word to describe a blanket, nor had he heard any of us called it that. His sweet little brain decided to call it a 'minny'.

From that day forward it stuck.

Edison was next. Now, this kid is amazing. He is the absolute best example of our very own "Linus" from Charlie Brown. He sucks his thumb, and drags his minny around everywhere. It is such a comfort to him. So much so that on his 2nd Christmas, me and my husband bought him an exact replica of Linus' blanket at a specialty store. This makes my heart happy.

Now, a few years later my son has one. He cannot sleep without it. It has been washed already at least 15 times. He has vomited on it. He has drooled on it. it is HIS. His very first expression of material desire. He thinks he needs it. When he sees it lying on the ground across the room he rushed over to it and digs his face into its soft fluff.

One day, all of these sweet little boys in my life will out grow their minnys. They will move on and be interested in other things. Video games, team sports, school, and then one day girls, cars, and money. (iam in great denial about the thought of my little guy interested in girls-makes me want to puke actually). This is life. Growing up happens.

So as me and my older sister watch our baby boys grow, we will remember their 'minnys.' We will pack them up, and save them. Pull them out of boxes in fifteen years and hold them. We will cry. We will remember how much fun we have had experiencing life with our sons.

For this I am grateful.