If you’ve ever seen Sam in real life, chances are you’ve also seen Baby.
Baby is Sam’s beloved teddy bear. Baby’s not actually the kind of bear that’s intended to be, you know, played with – he actually originated as a holder for a Babies R Us gift card. Like this – only blue.
(Photo credit to consumerist.com, who points out that this bear comes with a tag that warns of its lead content, which is awesome. However upon further reading, I found out that said tag is only attached in the state of Illinois, which has a lower threshold of acceptable lead levels in baby toys than Ohio does. Which explains why Andy and I didn’t notice the warning on any of the 15 versions of Baby we purchased in Sam’s first 1.5 years of life, and also explains a lot of other things as well. Insert Ohio joke here.)
I’m also not sure when Sam became so attached to him, but the first pictorial evidence I can find of Baby’s existence is shortly before Sam’s first birthday.
See how nice and clean Baby is there?
That may or may not have been the original Baby. For a while, Sam had to have his Baby at all times, but Baby was interchangeable. I remember Andy going in to Babies R Us once to buy 7 or 8 of the things so we were never without one, and he made the check out person promise that they had 5,000 more in the back and that they weren’t going to run out. We even had a name for them – Backup Baby.
Unfortunately, last February when I was in Nashville at Blissdom and Andy was home with both kids and all three of them had a stomach virus and were puking their brains out, Sam decided to play “hide and seek” with Baby. Despite the fact that he did the hiding, he couldn’t seem to do the seeking and no one could find Baby. So, Andy broke out Backup Baby. Of course, Sam chose that moment to decide there was one Baby and one Baby only, and he wasn’t having it. Andy tried everything – he colored Backup Baby with marker, rubbed some dirt on his face… he even shaved off some of Backup Baby’s fur with a beard trimmer to make him look more worn out… to no avail.
They had a really great weekend.
A week or so later, I found the real Baby in a drawer in Kate’s closet. Sam and Baby were reunited. And they haven’t been apart since.
We’ve had some close calls – we’ve left him at restaurants, we’ve dropped him on the floor at stores, and most notably, we’ve left him in a hotel room and checked out (fortunately I rescued him from a pile of dirty bedding that was wadded up on the floor as the room was being cleaned) – but Sam doesn’t go anywhere without his Baby. He’s a little worse for the wear, but he’s still kickin’.
I know that someday Baby will end up like Woody in Toy Story – relegated to the bottom of the toy box, forgotten. But right now, he is a great source of comfort to Sam, which is in turn a great comfort to me.
Baby is a part of the family.
My daughter has a burp-rag ( also know as stink rag). They don’t make this kind anymore and if they there would be a noticable difference. She also has a bunny bear. It is a baby toy that is a bunny with a rattle in it. We can always hear her coming. I am not sure where the bear part came from. They are both in sad shape like sam’s baby. We do check as I am sure you do everytime we leave somewhere…daughter, burp rag, bunny bear, we can go now.
Sweet story- sweet boy!
Good to know I’m not the only mama that has gone on the ‘lovey hunt’. My son is almost four and he’s had Clover, his kitty, since he was about 3.
One night, right before Christmas, we were doing the nightly search and SHE. WAS. GONE. My son searched. I searched. My husband searched. Nada. No clue where she was. I remembered when I’d last seen her, but she wasn’t there…or so I thought. It took us almost a week and a few teary nights (I appeased him with a small stuffed snowman to sleep with and said Santa might be able to bring him a new Clover and then found out they don’t MAKE them anymore), but about six days later my son was playing with a little used toy with compartments and lo-and-behold there she was! Peace was restored to the house until about 30 minutes later when he lost her again and it took two hours to find her. Since then he’s lost her a few more times, most memorably on the curb at my mother’s house.
Luckily for you, your son picked something you could get back-ups of. My daughter has chosen blankets as her love, and I’ve gotten smart and STOCKED UP!
That’s so sweet! I wish my kids would have been attached to something (besides me). Maybe I can get Jonah to love something!
Oh hi cousin, can you see this?
I love it! We have froggie & bunny. Bunny was bought as a back up because there was no froggie at the store, but now he can talk he insists on having both all the time. It is now time to find some more back ups. Both have been washed 3 times this week because he also loves ketchup on everything.
My son always has to have his “raffe,” which is baby giraffe that has to go EVERYWHERE with us. Sadly, my mom purchased this in a different state when I was pregnant with Aiden. So there is only one of “baby raffe.” I think it is so adorable when children have a particular item they are so attached to. I still have my “love” from when I was little. 🙂
Oh, this is just like Ellie with Tag-Tag. You know, those stupid fleece blankets with little tags of ribbon sticking out all over them — the kind you could make for two dollars, but since you didn’t think of it first, you now have to pay someone else $25 for one. We have two Tag-Tags, and most of the time Ellie requires both — one for each fist. She has a generic one given to us by a friend, and no doubt made by someone’s grandma, but it’s not the same. We must have authentic Tag-Tag! Heaven help us if we ever lose those stupid things — Backup Tag-Tag would never do.
“Nobody puts Baby in the corner!”
Someone had to say it – lol!
Emilie, you made me laugh… you are so right about those taggie blankets that cost $25! Hilarious. My 2 year old son has four loveys that are in the main line-up. One is a larger blue blanket – this one is the VIP of the loveys – and the other three are small blankets that have various animal heads attached. They’re all named by their color, and when he gets out of bed, he always does roll call before we can leave the room, “Blue! Yellow! Red! Green!” Yup, we got them all. When my daughter was born in November, I bought him a new lovey. This one was an owl blankie (he loves owls, a lot), and had his name embroidered on it. I thought it’d be a huge hit. He likes it fine, but it hasn’t ousted any of the main four from their rightful positions!
SO cute! My daughter has one of those little Gerber waffle weave blankets with the silk tag that she calls “B”. It used to be pink and now it’s this nasty brownish gray color – it’s been sewn together, folded over, sewn together again, patched and repaired so many times it’s not even funny! It looks like shredded lettuce that’s being held together with thread and I’m afraid to wash it! She’s carried it EVERYWHERE with her since she was 14 months old and now she’s almost 6 1/2! I don’t know who would cry more if she ever lost it – her or me!!! :o)
My Grandmother Brads gave me a Teddy Bear when I was about a year old. I still have it.
UP
My kids had toys and blankets that were their favorites too! We still have most of them, although there have been many times that they have been lost and then found. The part of this that gets me most is that although I loved Toy Story 3 I never thought about our own packed away toys. Jody’s Strawberry Shortcake collection, Andy’s Lollie Dollie, and Matt’s cars, how they must miss being played with. Recently we came across one of the boys’ old racetracks. Matt (19) got it out and set it up in the basement. I can’t help but think how those cars must be thrilled that Matt is playing with them again. It makes me want to dig out the other toys so they feel loved again. Thanks Emily for bringing back those memories for us and giving life to those toys again!
And at this point I am glad Josie really doesn’t have to be attached to any one perticular stuffed toy/blanket! She does sleep with Moosie almost every night, but geesh, I would have to travel back up to Maine to get a replacement! We bought that for her when she was 8 weeks old on our vacation to New Hampshire…but oh how she loves Moosie…and he looks pretty good for being almost 5 years old! HA! 🙂
I had Puppy when I was little. And, Puppy got just as dirty as Baby. He shrunk in the dryer, he lost an eye at pre-school, a friend’s dog chewed the rattle in his tail out, and his ears had to be sewn back on numerous times. After so much wear and tear, my mom got a replacement. The exact same Gund stuffed animal, just new (and clean). That one? He will always be known as New Puppy and he never received the kind of love and attention Puppy got.
I received Puppy almost 27 years ago. Today, Puppy still hangs out on my bed, hidden in my pillows (much to the playful chagrin of my boyfriend….)
Here’s something I wrote about “Puppy”
The Shortness of Dog Years
The move to start her first real, after graduation job was going as planned. Since the lease on her own apartment didn’t start for two weeks, she packed her car with just enough clothes and miscellany to tide her over. When the two weeks were up, we would pack up everything else and take it to her.
Today, the time came. We spent the morning loading my van with a dresser, a chair and a mattress. In the crevices we tucked her carefully packed boxes and bags of life: event-documenting t-shirts; colored markers, happy face stickers, and other remnants of her brief teaching career; her favorite books; a tiara or two; and Puppy. It was picking him up and adding him to the dispatch that made me understand – this time she’s really gone. She’s not just gone overnight or for the semester or for the summer. She’s gone in the moved-on sense of the word.
A favorite stuffed animal and life-long companion, Puppy started his life as a solid little guy with a white coat, brown eyes, and a button nose. Over the last two decades, he’s become much more limber, a little grayer, and has undergone several surgeries. Yet, no matter what he faced, Puppy always been a dogged presence in her life and in mine.
I frantically searched for him after he was inadvertently dropped from her hands while she dozed in the seat of the grocery cart. Aisle by aisle I retraced our steps, and I finally found Puppy staring up from the depths of the frozen food case. I eased him back into her empty arms, and she never felt the chill that consumed Puppy and me.
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The Shortness of Dog Years
In a late night, tear-filled call from a slumber party, I learned Puppy had been savagely attacked by her best friend’s golden retriever. I soothed her, told her to hold him tight, get some sleep, and assured her I would tend to his injuries the next day.
When Puppy was finally so mangy, and, I feared, on his last legs, I found a replacement Puppy. Identical to the original, he somehow just wasn’t the same. In her eyes, New Puppy never rose above step-dog status.
Like her, Puppy spent his summers on a camp bunk hearing the whispers and giggles of growing girls. In his teen years, he lay in wait beneath piles of clothes that made her look too fat, or too dumb, or too horrible to leave the house. A college graduate himself, Puppy sat quietly on her dorm bed, learning about loves found and lost and friends come and gone. He’s traveled abroad, keeping the pangs of homesickness at bay. He’s lived in tiny basement sublets, absorbing independence. And, now Puppy is readying for another phase of their life together.
He’s sitting in the back of my van, ready to make the big move, and letting him go is tearing me apart. I thought about keeping him hidden in my closet, but she’ll notice he’s gone and miss him. I thought about sending New Puppy in his place, but she’ll see that dog for the fraud he always was. I have no choice but to let Puppy go, and let go of her.
I pick him up one last time, and it’s almost as if I were holding her for the first time. I know the smell. It’s of me and of her, of daughters and mothers, of pushing and pulling, and breaking away. My tears pool on his matted coat, and finally sink in, and I know that when she holds him close, a part of me will still cling to her.
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