What to Do With an Old Lovey

Do you save it?

When my 12-year-old son was packing for his first time at sleepaway camp two years ago, I asked him if he was going to bring his bear, affectionately known in our house as “Bear-Bear.” I imagined the other boys snickering as he snuggled in his Maine bunk house with the ratty old teddy bear, a patch on its belly from when the dog chewed it. But my son looked at me like I had seven heads: “Of course, I’m bringing Bear-Bear. I can’t sleep without him.”

As a parent, I understood. I loved that bear with its missing nose just as much my son did; after all, he’d been sleeping with it since he was six-months-old. When we went away to St. John this February, I reminded my son, now 14, to pack the teddy bear in his suitcase. The next day we flew down to the islands, arriving in our hotel and unpacking our clothes. But it wasn’t until we went to bed that night that we realized that Bear-Bear had been left behind.

My son blamed me. I blamed him. Then the saddest thing happened. He shrugged. He said: It’s fine. Then he went to bed without caring much about the missing bear. More than his growing height. More than the fact that he now dons headphones and sniffs around the kitchen asking for meat. It was clear: My little boy wasn’t so little anymore. He didn’t even need his lovey.

An adorable new picture book coming out today explores the outsized role of a lovey in a child’s life. In The Imposter, author Laura Bower tells the story of a little girl who loses her longtime lovey Mr. Snuggles. When the child’s parents try to replace it with a new version of the same stuffed animal, the child cries foul. “It’s an imposter!” she yells. I reached out to Laura to ask why she decided to write a book about a child’s connection to her lovey, and why a lovey figures so strong in a child’s life.

I loved this sweet picture book so much.

“All three of my kids have had a strong relationship with a lovey, and the love they had for these loveys is intense,” says Bower, about why she chose the topic for her debut picture book. “One time my daughter was ranking who she loves best in our family and her lovey was a clear number one. I wanted to bring humor into the story and highlight the relationship my kids have had with the ‘imposters’ in their lives.”

Bower says that her kids have left their loveys in hotel rooms, town parks, restaurants. One time they accidentally threw one out in a garbage can at the town pool. Says Bower: “Fortunately, it was inside a bag and after 10 spins in the washing machine it was as good as new.”

We’ve had several lovey dramas, too, like when Bear-Bear was accidentally dropped on a snowy sidewalk and we didn’t realize it until we were tucking my son into bed that night; I hunted the sidewalks with a flashlight until I found him! Another time we landed in Paris, and after going through customs, we realized that Bear-Bear was left on the airplane. “Please, please get the bear for us,” I begged the French-speaking Delta customer service desk. They did.

But like all phases of childhood, a kid’s connection to a lovey doesn’t last forever. Knowing that my son can live without his lovey seems to mark some kind of official passage into the teenage years. Because as I watch him let go of his bear, I can see that I have to let go of the idea that he’s still a little boy.

It has me wondering what happens to all of the former loveys in this world. Do people hold on to their loveys even after they grow into adulthood? Is it typical to save a child’s lovey, and if so, what do you do with it?

Last year, my mom gave me the Kermit the Frog that I slept with during my childhood; she’d carted it around with her for the last thirty years and she said it was time that I take it. Now Kermit sits in my basement on a shelf cluttered with other toys, staring out at me with his plastic eyes as I do the laundry. For a longtime, Kermit was my Mr. Snuggles, and I still feel a soft spot when I glance over at him.

I suppose that is what I will do for my son, too. Hold on to Bear-Bear for many years to come. At least, until my son has kids of his own and wants to share the stories of his favorite stuffed animal with them. Until that cute little bear with the missing nose and patch on its belly makes another child feel as loved.

To learn more about Laura Bower and her books, visit her website, or buy her book here or here. Follow her on Instagram @laurabowerwrites.

xo