If you've been following Mommy Shorts, you know that Mazzy's got a blankie named Boo (pictured top left). (You can read all about Boo here.)

Shortly after I gave birth, I read that having a security blanket makes it easier for babies to acclimate to strange places. Like outside on the street when you can't get them to stop crying. (For the record, I've only done that once.) I also read that if the security blanket smells like mom, it's easier for the baby to attach themselves to it.

I'm telling you this so you understand why I made the moronic decision of making Mazzy's blankie out of two old t-shirts of mine. (More on that later.)

Mazzy and Boo are inseparable. If I had to list the things in Mazzy's life that she could not live without in order of necessity, Boo would be at the very top. That means Boo is above Elmo, her pacifier and myself. Which hopefully illustrates the obscene level of attachment. (Although I think pretzels and the iPad would be above myself as well, so maybe it's not saying much.)


Boo helps put Mazzy to bed, assists in spontaneous meltdown deflection, acts as her companion on car rides and generally encourages a favorable disposition at all times.

Which is great!

That is, until Boo started dying.

You see— Mazzy loves Boo. But she does little to think of his well-being other than he must be on her person at all times. She drags him on the floor, she throws him out of her stroller onto the city streets and she chews on him like he's a piece of rawhide. And since Boo is basically a makeshift sew-job of two old rags, he was a goner from the get-go.

(This is where you begin to understand why creating a homemade one-of-a-kind Boo is moronic.)

Death started with a hole in the seam and quickly escalated into a complete unraveling of one entire side. Then holes started forming in places where seams don't exist— a telltale sign the Blankie Reaper is near.

Legend of The Blankie Reaper:
The Blankie Reaper lives in the washing machine, so blankie death will almost certainly arrive mid-wash. When the reaper is feeling particularly grim, he has been known to disintegrate a blankie entirely leaving barely a trace that it ever existed. Some say, if you listen closey to the spin cycle, you can hear the sound of blankie-less children screaming.

Thus, a plan to create a replacement Boo was born.

The Task: Replicate Boo as closely as possible so that Mazzy is unable to detect a difference.

The Execution: Two t-shirts were purchased from American Apparel because that was where the originals were from (although several years prior). Colors were matched as best as I could find. Materials were taken to the same dry cleaner and sewed together exactly like the original.

The Result: IMPOSTER BOO (see visual up top)

How It Went Down (Note: I did not mean to leave "Original Boo" on top of the table. Thankfully, Mike saved the plan from disaster):

RIP Original Boo from Ilana W on Vimeo.

In case the video isn't clear, "Imposter Boo" is a big success. So successful that we dropped "Imposter" and are now just calling him— "Boo".

Also, I'm now wondering if my replacement would be equally as easy.

Next plan: "Robot Mom".