Blankets are the best. I have worked diligently to teach all of my boys to become severely attached to one. By severely, I mean, bring it to breakfast, every trip in the car, movies on the couch, can't-sleep-without-it attached. So far, I have succeeded.
It's really quite simple. First, choose a blanket you like. You will be looking at it for a very, very long time. Second, take it everywhere. Use it every time you nurse, rock your baby to sleep, comfort him when he cries, etc.etc etc.
That's it. Your baby is now attached.
Now the fun part begins. For the next six to ten years, you get to participate in a blanket hunt EVERY night. It's never folded up neatly on their bed. That is the place for non-attached blankets to live. Your child's blanket is either under the kitchen table, inside the toy cupboard, in the car next to their carseat, on the front porch where they left it after playing with the kittens, under your desk (recently used as a fort) or sequestered in your locker--in time out after being used as a whip. It may also be in the bathroom, on the couch, in the play room, or in Daddy's shop. If you can't find it any of these places, pray. So far in my decade of experience, the prayer of a child for his blankie never goes unanswered.
You ask why? Why I intentionally attach my children to an object?? A THING that is non-living and has no nerve endings? Well, really do you have to ask? Bedtime is much easier when they go to sleep snuggling with a piece of fabric after I give them their hug and kiss. Babysitters appreciate having something to comfort them with--since they can never smell quite like mom. Daddy can wrap them up with their blanket and walk out on the deck at night to look at the stars. And their blanket always wants to be hugged--never gets tired of being dragged around, stuffed in corners, and loved practically to death.
And there is the downfall. Blankies can die. Malachi has worked hard loving his blanket for the last two years--and it almost died. This week, we had to admit it to the critical care unit. I realized that the frayed corners and holes were no longer a matter to be ignored during the last primary meeting at my house. Mac came charging into the room, the backing of his blanket over his head like a hood, the rest streaming behind, "Supah man!! Supah Man!!" His entire head was encased inside the blanket, which was so threadbare it threatened to rip entirely apart. Something had to be done.
So I spent two days fixing his blanket--I ripped off the sides, ties, and back. I cut down all the edges along the top, eliminating most of the carpet burn. I ironed new triangles to go around the outside--he loves to chew on them. It is done--it looks wonderful. It is soft, mended, and new.
And at night, I find him tucked into bed, his "new" blanket over him to keep him warm. And there, held in his arms, tucked up against his face is a scrap from his "old" blanket. Threadbare, holey, and yet--still loved. Can't win 'em all!
My super photographer cousin Rebecca took some pictures over the weekend. I don't have photography skills worth discussing--so I was so excited she was interested in snapping away. So Laura, these are for you (and a few other people). We'll probably have more after we bless Elias next weekend. 
Announcing the arrival of Elias Malouf Beutler--our favorite Fifth Son. Just to mix things up a bit, he arrived EARLY--three days before his due date--and after only four hours of labor. That was enough time to get him here safely, but not the midwife, father, or midwife trainee. My midwife friend from down the street came--she got here a whopping twenty minutes before Elias. While the boys slept peacefully in their bedrooms, their brother arrived at 6:00 a.m. He was born in the water, and Aaron participated via speaker phone. Aaron said he prefers to be there in person, but he was still six hours away so there wasn't much chance of making it. We are thrilled to have Elias here--and maybe we'll share more of the story later!!!
Eight pounds 3 1/2 ounces ** 21 1/4 inches long*** Feet--Aaron**Malouf nose (I think)
Hands--Grandpa Jim***Eyes: Blue*** Hair: Black (and the most of all our boys)
Mother's appetite (big) and sleeping quantity (not quite so big, unfortunately)
Who does he look like? Himself of course! We are so happy to have him here.
