This is Elodie a year or so ago, snuggling with her special pink blanket. The blanket that comforted her when she was sick. The blanket that soothed daily injustices. The blanket that made her so cozy going to sleep, no matter which house she had to sleep in while Dexter was in and out of the hospital. The blanket that she shared so unselfishly with her baby brother. The blanket that we took with us on Tuesday to the doctor's to provide comfort in trying times. The blanket that I left so forgetfully in the doctor's office. After some coaxing and reassurance that we'd call the doctor's office to find it, she went to sleep fine Tuesday night. But she woke up twice that night. And she woke up sad. (She's usually remarkably cheerful when woken up in the middle of the night. For example, last week, I popped into her room after she was asleep to put away some laundry, and I saw that she'd rolled off her mattress onto the floor, so I scooped her up and put her back in her bed. She looked at me and said, "Thank you, Mommy." Then I turned on her beautiful classical cello music and she said, "I love this one.") Wednesday, I called the office and they said they had it, so Aaron was going to pick it up after class. When he got home, Elodie was so excited. "Daddy, you have my pink blanket!" The poor guy had to break the news that the pink blanket they'd found wasn't her dingy, ragged, holey, special, cozy one after all. She was disappointed, but she took it remarkably well. But that night, she woke up sad a couple more times. So yesterday we made a big production out of choosing a new special blanket from among her other blankets. We showed Dad how soft and special this one was. And she slept fine last night and seems to be OK with the shift in attachment! Poor little girl--she's too young to have to give up her blanket! If only I wasn't so forgetful... I did have that sinking feeling as we were leaving that I was missing something, but I figured that was just because I was used to going to the doctor with Dexter and his oxygen tank and his enteral feeding pump and a stroller and extra blankets and a giant diaper bag with a back up G-tube and syringes and other essentials. No wonder I felt a little too light on my way out. Whoops! Good thing kids are forgiving, not to mention resilient!