I received quite a few lovies as gifts for the baby while I was pregnant. For those of you not familiar with the term, a lovey is generally a square of a soft fabric, sometimes with the head of a stuffed animal on it. Babies tend to snuggle and hold them for comfort. A lovey can of course be anything — whatever the child deems to be their lovey. I’ve known kids who loved on burp clothes, for example. The security thing seems to last for years — I knew people in college still carrying around a tiny square of their childhood blankey.

Since I had all these lovies for Owen, once he was old enough not to smother himself with them, I started putting one in the crib with him at night. My aunt bought him the most adorable and soft black and white dog lovey, and I thought for sure this would be HIS lovey. Not the case.

Every morning I would come in and he had thrown the lovey (as well as a stuffed lobster, lion and bear) on the floor. It was a game. I’d pick them up, he’d throw them back down laughing. Fine by me. I didn’t care either way if he used a lovey or not, I just thought I would give him the option, you know? I had a baby doll — BeeBee — which I carried around for YEARS, so I understand finding comfort in an object when you’re small.

A few weeks ago, I was putting away some laundry and a sock happened to fall out of my drawer. When I was packing up my hospital bag before Owen was born, I included a pair of short, black athletic socks I had bought specifically to wear during labor. (Black hides everything, you know?) I was wearing them while he was born, but then I never wore them again, as well, they’re black, and they looked weird with my sneakers.

Anyway, Owen was playing at my feet when the sock fell, and he immediately went to check it out. He was still holding on to it a few minutes later when it was time for him to nap, so I just left it with him, and forgot about it in the crib when I took him out later.

That night, I placed him in his crib and he immediately grabbed the sock. He scrunched it up, put it by his face, and went to sleep. When I checked on him later that night, the sock was still clutched in his hand. Owen had found his first lovey.

A sock.

I told my mom about this and she didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. It’s probably the first thing he saw in the world, she told me. Ha! Maybe that’s true. Whatever the reason for the attachment to the sock, it’s super sweet. The sock has become an important piece in his sleep routine; he seeks it out as soon as he’s placed in the crib, and if he wakes in the middle of the night for a nurse, he usually holds on to it while he eats.

I love that he’s found comfort in something so non-traditional. It’s unique! (And really easy on my part. The sock came in a pack of three pairs. That leaves me with five extra lovies as backups!)

It warms my heart to see him snuggle up to it, knowing that it’s bringing him a sense of security. Even if that security did used to go on my foot.

Did you have a lovey growing up? What was it?

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