I had a stuffed monkey that looked something like this. I don't really remember sleeping with him, but I'm sure I did at some point.
I still vaguely remember this, and I'm in my 60's now--We moved away from my hometown when I was 4 years old. We were back in town one time when I was probably about 5 visiting the family. We were packing up to go home. We go out to the driveway. We get the shock of our lives. There's an arm sticking out of the closed trunk. My Dad opens the trunk. It turns out my monkey's arm had gotten caught outside the trunk-when the trunk hood came down-well gotten accidentally caught or my 12 year old brother decided to play a joke. To be fair he's always denied it.
I wish I still had the monkey. My parents were having a garage sale when I was 8. I decided to sell him. I hope he brought some other youngster happiness.
As for my baby blanket, we had it until I was 6. That year my parents got us a puppy on Rosh Hashanah. We named him Happy for obvious reasons. We put the blanket in Happy's bed to keep him warm-and that was the end of the blanket.