Wednesday, December 19, 2012


Tuck: "Mama,  I'm always gonna love my sockies. And when I get married, I'll share 'em with my wife."
Me: "Awesome plan, Tuck."

Since Tuck was weeks old, he has had his 'sockies'. As a newborn he would often scratch his face at night after he 'Houdini-ed' his way out of the swaddled up blanket. We decided to try to put those baby mitts on his hands to keep the scratches to a minimum. We did this each night for a few weeks and those little mitts worked really well. Too well, in fact. 

Tuck had grown attached to them and when he had grown out of them, all heck broke loose. My husband, always one to see outside the box, solved the problem quickly. He grabbed some socks (the kind with the rubber on the bottom of the sole) and put them on Tuck's baby hands. It was an instant success and 'sockies' were born. We had pairs and pairs of these socks that went everywhere with us. They were the greatest "comfort item" ever because there were so many of them. But then, I just HAD to get creative. 

Santa decided to bring "special" sockies each year that went in Tuck's stocking. These became the most protected and loved of all the sockies. It didn't matter if there were 50 of every color all around him, the ones Santa had brought him were the ones he wanted. The ones he NEEDED! 

He was diligent about keeping them safe and sound. He'd tuck them in his pillow case each morning before he climbed out of bed. As the years have passed, his special collection has grown. 

Today, on my way home from work,  I joined many other parents with panicked looks on their faces in Target. I had one mission and one mission only. I was in search of something just as magical as Christmas itself. 

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