Blue bear came to us from Charlie's school. One day he just showed up in Charlie's cubby. Apparently he was Charlie's naptime lovey, donated by some unnamed toddler who, judging by the pristine condition in which Blue Bear came to us, did not cherish him nearly as much as Charlie does. He lived at school until it was time for Charlie to switch to the two-year old room and then we had to bring everything in Charlie's cubby home for the weekend so we could take it to the new room the following Monday.
So big thanks to daycare for increasing the number of beloved objects with which I must keep up to TWO. I can't tell you the panic in my heart the day I couldn't find Blue Bear before school. I made a point of talking up the (also well loved and terribly dirty) fuzzy blue blanket in Charlie's cubby but he was skeptical. All day I reassured myself that, although the last time I remember seeing Blue Bear had been at the grocery store, I couldn't possibly have left him there. No, I wouldn't let myself think about it. In desperation I took everything out of our coat closet where Charlie had been playing right after we returned from the store. I was so relieved to see that dirty blue mouse peering back at me from the very back corner. Oh yeah, Blue Bear is not a bear, he is a mouse.
The other night when I sneaked into Charlie's room to lovingly tuck him back in and check his vital signs I noticed something on the floor. "That's not..." I thought as I bent over to inspect it. But it was. It was Blue Bear's arm.
I guess Blue Bear's poor shoulder socket just couldn't handle Charlie's rough version of love any longer and simply gave out. I picked up the arm and stashed it in Ryan's night stand, making a mental note to sew it back on sometime when Charlie wasn't paying attention. Charlie didn't seem to notice his friend's terrible injury. Ryan and I secretly called him "The One Armed Man".
Then on Sunday we were getting ready for church in our room. Wesley was playing on the floor and Charlie was happily taking pennies out of Ryan's night stand drawer, exclaiming "I find da monies!" with each one, then carefully lining them up on the table top. Ryan and I were both in the bathroom when the happy chatter stopped.
"Oh NOOOO!" It was Charlie.
I looked up. Charlie was holding Blue Bear's arm and looking at us for an explanation.
"OH NOOOO!" again "Boo Bear's ARM!"
Ryan stopped brushing his teeth and stared at our poor little boy, holding his beloved friend's arm, little white threads hanging pitifully from the shoulder.
I was barely able to stifle a giggle.
"Wha happened, Mama? Oh NO! Boo Bear's arm!"
"Uhhhh, Blue Bear hurt his arm, Sweetie."
"Boo Bear need a Band Aid?"
"Mmm hmm! He does!" Upbeat! Happy! Whee! "I'll fix it when we get home, OK?"
"Wha happened'a Boo Bear, Mama?"
"I don't know, Buddy--LOOK! Pennies!! Do you want to put them in your bank?!"
He looked at me expectantly.
"How about a banana? Are you hungry?"
"Poor Boo Bear hurt his arm" he said, frowning purposefully.
I don't remember how we finally distracted him, but Blue Bear remains armless and Charlie doesn't seem to mind. I just hope he finds a less violent way to show love to his brother.