Dear Blue Bear,

Dear Blue Bear,

I feel like the time has come to get some things out in the open. You came to our house two years ago, the same week as your constant companion. His aunts sent you to him at the same time they sent flowers to me. I’d like to say it was love at first sight, but newborn eyes aren’t that keen. You spent a lot of that first year floating around the house–in and out of the toy box, occasionally making the trip to your boy’s grandparents’ house.

At some point during the last year, that erratic orbit became magnetic. One day, he saw you and decided that you were the one he needed. From that day on, you have never been very far apart. You sleep together and go on adventures. You have a “special” seat on top of the trashcan where you wait for him when he plays outside. He wants you to wear a hat and socks when it’s cold, and he reads you his favorite books. In fact, some of his most loved stories are the ones where the main character has a companion like you, books like Corduroy and Me…Jane.

The first thing I want to clear up is that I’m sorry about your name. I thought that calling you “Blue Bear” would give him a chance to name you himself. Unfortunately, he just heard “Blue” and ran with it. You also smell. I know that it is unavoidable since you get so much love each day. The reality that a lot of that love includes being shoved in a toddler mouth is just gross. I do try to bathe you whenever laundry times out around nap time because we both know the sadness that would ensue if you couldn’t sleep with him. Unfortunately, that happens less often then it should. Again, sorry.

I also want to say thank you. You have given me a window into my boy’s feelings that I didn’t anticipate. He won’t always tell me when he is sad or tired, but he never hesitates when I ask him, “Is Blue sad?” You also give him comfort when I am not there to kiss his bruised knee or sing him a lullaby when he has a bad dream. You are the piece of home that he can take with him wherever he goes.

I know that he is branching out to other stuffed companions these days–including the equally poorly named Brown Bear and Cat–but he keeps coming back to you. You’re his friend, and I’m glad he has you to take care of.

Love,

His mom