Mommy Blog

The Security Blanket

in Giggles on September 27, 2022

All three of my kids were “blanket babies”. I’m not totally sure how that happened. Toting blankets around was not exactly something that I planned. But…whatever the reason…all three of my kids landed on ONE specific blanket, and carried it around with them until there was almost NOTHING LEFT.

All three blankets were used and loved so much that there were giant gaping holes, the fabric was threadbare, and small receiving blankets were stretched to almost double their original size.

How can I remember this?

I can’t.

But…I found the kids’ blankets a few weeks ago while I was unpacking the final box-laden room in my new house.

All three (sad excuses for) blankets had been washed, neatly folded and stored in individual ziploc bags. After seeing the yellow (Ethan), the pink (Emma) and the green (Elliott) momentos, the recollection of allll the days of blanket-toting came flooding back.

Well, my kids are well-past the years of dragging ratty blankets around, but the occasional need for that feeling of safety and security still arises. Sometimes that need reaches out via a text or a phone call to Mom. Sometimes it requires a drive home for a hot meal that wasn’t provided by Chic-Fil-A. And still other times, that feeling of safety comes from a slightly unsuspected source.

Yesterday my youngest called me. I happened to be right in the middle of something and could not take his call. No sooner than I’d messaged him that I would call him shortly; my phone rang for a second time. This is the unspoken message in our family that whatever we are calling with cannot wait. I picked up, and said, “What’s up? I’m right in the middle of something…are you okay?” His response??

“Sorta. But not really. I fell on campus and am currently in the back of an ambulance, headed to St. Joseph’s hospital.”

If you’ve read my book, Why Some Animals Eat Their Young, or kept up with any of my posts on this site, then you know that Elliott is my one. He’s the one that jumps, flies, or falls off of any-and everything. He has spent more than his fair share of time in an emergency room, but until yesterday, he’s never required the paramedics to facilitate the journey.

My mind was spinning. My stomach was turning. And all I could manage was, “What. In. The. World. Happened??” All the while trying to figure out how to make the forty-five mile drive without breaking the sound barrier and without getting arrested for reckless driving.

His university campus, like many across the country, is large and expansive. As a freshman, he has classes scattered from one end of the school to the other; thus making the travel in between classes a bit of challenge. To remedy his growing number of tardies, he invested in an electric skateboard.

For my incredibly accident-prone child, you can see where and how this might end badly.

Elliott has been the proud owner of this new campus transportation device for a whopping ten days. Yesterday, at 12:30 pm, his navigational skills failed him and he wiped out in a spectacular fashion after missing a wonky manhole cover. According to witnesses, he flew further, rolled longer, and slid harder than anyone in recent memory.

Well done.

His initial impact with the high-quality concrete of campus was directly on his left hip. Thankfully, he’s had years of practice falling down, so he knew better than to brace himself with his arms—he let his body take the brunt of the force. However, it was precisely that logic that landed him in the back of an ambulance. His entire left leg, from his hip to his toes was no longer a load-bearing beam.

He could not roll over. He could not walk. He could not even stand.

This is what spooked the university medics when they arrived on the scene. Elliott was also in the dead center of the campus, approximately one mile from the parking garage where his manual transmission car was parked. His left leg is his “clutch leg”. EMS was the only viable option.

So…in a situation like this…who ya gonna call?

Your dad? No.

Your mother? No.

Obviously you call your big brother.

Yes. Elliott called his big brother before he called me. And once I arrived at the hospital to relieve Ethan of his post as make-shift emergency contact, I was met with a severely aggressive, “NO. HE STAYS” from the patient.

Excuse me?

Elliott was adamant about Ethan remaining with us. He looked up at me, and told me that Ethan made him feel safe.

When Jeff and I shoved all three kiddos into the same house in this little college town, we’d hoped they would learn to rely on and trust each other. Yesterday was ever apparent that the kids understood their assignment. Elliott was touched that I made the trip up. He was moderately impressed by the time in which I arrived. But, he was more reliant on the strength and calmness of his brother. The Momma heart in me ached a bit at the thought that I was not needed in the full capacity of my role from years gone by, but that same heart overflowed as I saw a palpable bond between my boys.

Ethan is Elliott’s new security blanket.

Ethan can teach his little brother how to do things that I cannot. Ethan can teach him how to adjust to the real world in a way that their mother never can. Ethan is safe and secure.

Elliott’s hip is not broken, nor is it dislocated. It is severely bruised and will likely be sore for a couple of weeks. Three hours after his arrival at the ER, a book-load of forms requiring signatures, one pain med shot, and one brand new set of crutches later; we left.

Ethan headed off to grab drive-thru for our sidewalk warrior, and I was charged with taking him home. However, once I had Elliott settled into the living room recliner, I was dismissed. Ethan assured me that he was quite capable of playing nurse maid to his brother, and they would call me if anything changed.

As parents, we really do want our children to grow up, be successful, kind and independent from us. That is the goal. No one can properly prepare you for the time that actually happens. One day, you’re the center of your kids’ whole world—the next—they promise they can take it from here. It then becomes our job to trust that they can.

Good Luck, Momma! We got this.