White bear.

I found a huge stack of photos in my 11 year old’s desk yesterday. We were cleaning it out in preparation for Middle School. The snapshots were almost all of him. Some of his little brothers, but mostly him. And in every single one, he was smiling. He was, and is, a really happy and easy going kid.

Davis was about 1 year old in the photo above. I had taken him to New York City to see my sister-in-law and to hang out. He loved it there. Well, he loved it everywhere. You can see him holding his “lovey” White Bear.

He took White Bear everywhere he went. He slept with it, ate with it, played with it, even took it in his backpack when he started preschool.

Unbeknownst to him, there were two of them. Two identical bears. That way, when one got dirty, the other one was available. That way, there would never be a time he would have to do without his friend. (This was a valuable tip I learned from a great friend with kids older than I had. Always great to have one of those…) But I digress.

Davis didn’t know there were two White Bears. We worked hard to keep it a secret. Otherwise, we feared, he’d want both all the time and we’d be sans a backup.

He loved this bear so much that the fabric started to wear. On both. We started to worry that we’d need a third. And in fact, we did buy a third, but no kid is dim enough to confuse a pristine new bear with a well-loved one. So it’s brand new in my memory box as I write.

The fabric wore so much that I bought premie onsies for the bears. And hoped that would save them from totally disintegrating. But still, the bears wore out. Well, not out, but surely wore. Here they are today.

Of course, Davis knows there are two. (Three, actually) He figured it out before we told him, but didn’t tell us so we wouldn’t be disappointed. He never did seem to mind.

As he moves into the next phase of his life – Middle School – I wonder what will be the constant. What will be his White Bear? I hope it’s the openness that we encourage here at home and the indescribable amount of love we have for him.

He seems fine. He’s not outwardly concerned at all.

Now me? That’s another story.