A Tale of Two Bears

On a recent evening of books and cuddles (which is far better than an evening of dumping buckets of bath water out of the tub, followed by yelling, and ending with no books and no cuddles), Will asked me what I was like as a little girl.

He wanted to know about my clothes (I described a watermelon dress), what I liked to do (I talked about cabbage patch kids), and what I looked like (to which I could only answer, "Like you, buddy," because he is my twin). 

He asked if I had a Blue Bear, his security blanket of choice since about the age of one, and I told him about Big Bird.

"Big Bird was about this big, and he was super dirty, and he had a bare spot on his head where I would rub my finger to fall asleep, and he only had one eye left because I loved him so much and grandma had to wash him so many times," I described.

"Where is he?" Will asked.

"Actually, he's in our basement." 

Well down to the basement we went, right then and there of course, and up Big Bird came. The boys and I took a photo of us and our security blankets: Jingle Dog, Blue Bear, Big Bird. 

 

Like any parent who is willing to keep the peace no matter the price, Greg and I purchased a back up Blue Bear right after we realized Blue Bear was it for him, and we kept the second on stand by should something happen to Blue Bear Version 1.0. 

My mom also had a back-up Big Bird, but I never fell for him. He had two eyes, all of his fur, and was too clean for my three-year-old tastes.

Will, however, took right to Blue Bear 2.0 without batting an eye, and this was especially handy when 1.0 needed a bath, or got left in a car, or stuck under a couch for a few days, which is precisely what happened this past week. 

Will found 1.0 last night under the couch. I thought nothing of the fact he'd been missing for a couple of weeks.

We headed up to bed, 1.0 tucked under his arm, and there on the floor was 2.0.

Will's mind was blown. 

Dumbfounded.

We may as well have taken the opportunity to tell him about Santa, and the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy, and the Bengals having ever been to a Super Bowl. 

How could there be TWO of his very best friend?

He furiously examined both--their ribbons, where there had been a hole sewn up, their tags--and he noted every difference and told me which one was  the real Blue Bear. 

I told him the truth, that we never wanted him to be without his best friend, and now they were so excited to be together--that they hadn't been able to be with each other since they were on the shelf at the store, and now they get to BOTH love the kid who loves them so much.

This seemed to appease him, although it would be days before the shock of having two Blue Bears wore off. He told everyone at pre-school about it, grandparents, aunts and uncles--like it was the best office gossip ever. 

I tucked them both into his arms that night and pulled up the covers. He kissed both Blue Bears on their heads.

And then he handed one to me. 

"You sleep with this one. Now we both have one forever." 

So last night, I slept with Blue Bear 2.0 in my arms. 

**

I wrote this post three months ago. Since then, Will has made sure nearly every night that I have a Blue Bear to take to bed. There was even a night at 3 a.m. when he came into our room and tucked Blue Bear 2.0 into my arms and ran back to bed.

Two weeks ago when Greg was out of town, and the day had been long and the evening rough, I tucked Will into bed and went downstairs to just sit. And breathe. When I returned to my room to sleep, there on my pillow was Blue Bear. Will had snuck in to lay him there. I melted onto the bed in a puddle of exhaustion and tears--so attuned to my needs and so willing to share the one thing he loves the most.

It is my belief that our children are hand-picked for us and given to us to teach us exactly what we need in any given moment. Although on most days for me that thing is patience, I find myself sated in knowing that I have a boy who just maybe sometimes puts the needs of others above his own. It gives me moments of thinking I'm doing okay, that I'm not totally failing at this parenting adventure.