Kiki

Kiki: (n) pr. kee-kee
Def: 1. Transitional Object
2. That which must never be lost
3. Wish you'd bought 3 of them now don't you.....

I am always amazed at the absolute undying love and affection some children place on transitional objects.
For Duncan, it was his "num". A soother that he kept until he was 2 yrs 8 months and loved beyond everything else.
The num was great. It meant an easy going to bed routine - as long as he had it, he was an angel, laying down to pop it in his mouth and be content and secure that all was right with the world. Over the years we spent lots of money buying new ones to replace the ones he'd lost or left at Grandmas or just plain chucked into the cat litter box. We knew that only ONE brand would work, and that it was difficult to find - indeed, I haven't found that type since he lost his last one at Grandmas, necessitating a forced break from the addiction cold turkey.

Matthew on the other hand would never take a soother. Whether it was the 8 months of colic, I don't know, but he never did accept a soother as a form of pacification.
He was very late in developing a transitional object, but when it came, it was in the form of a blanket lovingly named "Kiki".
I had bought this blanket when I found out I was pregnant again. It was on sale at Roots, and had I had ANY idea how important it would later become, I would have bought 3 or 4. As it was - I bought just the one, and kept it in the closet until my newborn son arrived home, and there I swaddled him in it and took pictures.


Up until Matthew was about 2 he would accept just about any blanket, as long as he had something to cover his face while he slept. I knew from the time he was 3 months old that he had to have something touching his face in order to sleep, but he was indiscriminate until he hit 2 or so, and then out of the blue something switched over and he had to have a particular blanket. Being unable to verbalize his preference for said blanket, he chose another method of communication which is called screaming bloody murder until mummy offers him the "right" thing. Sometimes this took a few minutes, and sometimes it took quite a bit longer, and was frustrating for everyone involved. But I'm no dummy. I soon figured out what could stop the screaming the fastest, and lo and behold it was this particular blanket. In fact, one time, I almost fooled him with a fleecy pullover that looked similar, navy on the outside, and lined with grey on the inside. The zipper tipped him off though. Since then, we have not been able to go anywhere without his beloved "kiki" so named because that was his word for "blanket" and now that we've established that this is THE blanket, it still retains the name of Kiki, by mommy and daddy too.

We have trouble washing Kiki, because Matthew is so attached to it.

Older brothers can be merciless and often "steal" Kiki and hide it. This makes Matthew upset, and at least once a day I am called upon by a little boy with tears streaming down his face telling me that "Duncan took my kiki".

This raggedy old blanket is starting to fray around the edges - which makes it more endearing then ever to me - evidence of how much face rubbing this poor blanket has seen. I have no intention of breaking him from the Kiki habit anytime soon. At least not for longer than a wash and dry cycle. For some reason, Matthew has latched onto this blanket - it is heavier than most baby blankets, so that is likely what drew him to it in the first place. He knows what it feels like more than anything else. He can be visually fooled, but nothing feels quite like Kiki.
By the time he outgrows it, I'm sure it will be nothing more than a tattered rag - But I will keep it anyway. I'm quite sure that by now, he will never forget it completely, even as an adult, It is evidence of a love between a boy and his blanket, and a time in his life when all it took was chocolate milk and a little piece of Navy Blue Cotton, to make him 100% happy.Wish that we could all have that contentment and security with just a piece of fabric.

Kiki Today: