The Mystery of the White Scrunchy Blanket

I have decided to officially become a blogger tonight. I thought that in order to make a debut on this blog scene I would need a fancy introduction--a prologue, a pivotal moment of some sort to start from, but I just can't deal with the pressure or work of backtracking. That being said, my little blog begins today.

It starts with a white scrunchy blanket that made the foot of our bed its home about a month ago. I thought it was a lovely blanket from the first time I saw it in that blessed store, Ikea. I saw the potential of its unique, gauzy texture and thought it would be a great prop for baby pictures. I purchased it without hesitation. Indeed, it has been used in many a picture of my sweet boy. However, I am starting to wonder a little bit about this scrunchy blanket. It has had influence in this family that I wasn't expecting, and frankly that I'm not so sure I like.

Reason #1. Jared has not slept under the sheets of our bed since the blanket arrived. Summer nights are hot. We all know this. Before the blanket however, Jared would just sleep under the sheets and keep the comforter down--you know, like most people do when they get hot at night. I would keep my side up because I don't find the heat uncomfortable and find the fluffiness of the duvet cozy. In those days we had a good thing going on--he was sheets only, and I was sheets plus duvet. There was no restriction of bed space. I could toss and turn and kick my legs about as I pleased. I could even play a little footsie with my husband if I wanted to. Now, he sleeps ON TOP of everything with--you guessed it--the scrunchy blanket stretched from under his toes all the way tucked up under his chin. When I question this behavior, he says that the blanket feels better than the sheet. It's cooler, and it's a better texture. I have tried the white blanket, and I don't get it. In the meantime, I am trapped under the covers on my half (third, really) of the bed. Cuddling is not what it used to be. We might as well be in two separate beds!

Reason #2. A few days ago, Grant was "helping me" make the bed. "Making the bed" with Grant starts with Grant watching me from the rocking chair until I get the sheets and comforter situated. Then he moves onto the bed while I arrange the pillows and throw blanket. When I rustled the scrunchy blanket around his face and fanned it up and down above him he seemed entertained. Still, I didn't think much of that. Well, today he woke up super cranky from his nap. I could not get him to relax. There wasn't a position I held him in that could keep him from screaming at full decibel strength. This is not typical. I attempted all that I could to console him, and just as he was starting to calm down, a picture fell from the wall, knocking down a bunch of stuff from a shelf, sending Grant over the edge. I thought of a great idea! "I will give him a little massage with lotion to try to soothe him!" Well, the lotion just happened to be on the floor in my room, so I had to put him down on the bed for a moment to bend down to get it. Well, before I could even stand back up, he had calmed down. I had, inadvertently, placed him on top of . . ..the white scrunchy blanket. It was almost instantaneous. He was clinging to the fabric, bringing it to his little face, and almost cooing! That fast! I had been trying to calm him for at least fifteen minutes! I have to admit, I was appreciative at the time and proceeded to play with Grant under a little "scrunchy blanket tent" for another ten minutes or so.

Well, there you have it. The evidence speaks for itself. It's a good thing the scrunchy white blanket can't cook dinner or nurse babies, or else I might start to feel a little unneeded around here.