Teddy Takes Tea

Friday, November 19, 2004

Page 15

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

Teddy Takes Tea

By J’AMY PACHECO

As party invitations go, this one was a little girl’s dream. It read, “It’s a dress up tea party! And you’re invited!”

As the mother of a little girl who loves to don foofy girly attire, I knew this would be a party my eight-year-old would enjoy. The fact that it was being held to celebrate the sixth birthday of her best-friend-since-the-age-of-three would make it even more special.

But what topped the list of exciting developments for my daughter was a note encouraging invitees to bring their favorite teddy bear for the “Teddy Bear Contest.”

I knew without asking who would accompany my daughter. “Teddy” has been a part of our family for almost four years and is, without question, my daughter’s favorite toy.

Teddy doesn’t look like a likely candidate to be a little girl’s favorite bear. He’s neither plump nor fuzzy — he’s rather thin, and is made of a loopy fabric that reminds me of brown terry cloth. His long legs dangle limply, and his worn velvety nose has just enough texture to attract a lot of lint.

He arrived at our house on my daughter’s fifth birthday – a gift from an adult friend of mine. He was sort of an afterthought, attached to the wrapped package that contained her actual gift.

Her birthday is a week before Valentine’s Day, and Teddy arrived wearing a red vest embroidered with white x’s and o’s to symbolize hugs and kisses. Despite his rather serious expression, she loved him instantly.

One of my earliest memories of Teddy involves my daughter and I sitting in the car waiting for my husband to come out of a store. By putting my hand under Teddy’s vest, I was able to place one finger on each of his shoulders to make his head nod, or tilt to one side. I created a voice for Teddy, and he kept up an animated dialogue that kept my little girl laughing until her daddy returned.

He became her constant companion, traveling with us wherever we went. He accompanied us to theme parks, tucked into my tote bag — but always with his head hanging out to avoid suffocation. He continues to share my daughter’s booster seat on long car trips, and has attended every overnight getaway we’ve taken since his arrival. He even went to kindergarten one day when he accidentally wound up in my daughter’s backpack.

Somewhere along the line, Teddy picked up a red bead necklace and a friend named “Princess.” Princess is a tiny bear who is tucked inside Teddy’s vest, only her arms and head visible. Although I once bought him a tiny pair of jeans and some red high-top sneakers, he mostly goes through life wearing only his vest, necklace and Princess.

Over the years, my daughter’s attachment to Teddy has become more pronounced. They snuggle up every night, and if he slips from her grasp during sleep, she reaches for him without opening her eyes. If he becomes lodged under the covers and isn’t readily found, she jerks awake, cries, “Teddy!” and searches the blankets until he’s located.

While it’s sweet to see my little girl so attached to her toy pal, it’s also caused some stress. Teddy travels in my tote because I’m afraid my daughter will put him down, temporarily forget him, and we’ll never see him again. If a visiting toddler gets its hands on Teddy, I immediately offer a substitute toy and rescue Teddy as quickly as possible.

As attached as she is, I know any injury to Teddy would be a trauma of gigantic proportions.

So the idea of this much loved, bedraggled bear attending a party and competing in a Teddy Bear contest has me worried. My daughter has already requested I make him a foofy dress, explaining that Teddy doesn’t mind dressing like a girl.

But I envision a teddy bear fashion show populated with furry, chubby new Build-a-Bears complete with sound effects and fancy clothing. If I’m right, I wonder how my daughter will view her own skinny little bear when he is mixed in with all the others. I wonder what the other little girls will say.

But Teddy is her favorite bear, and by all rights should accompany her. He’s been there for her through thick and thin, in sickness and health, on scary theme park rides and sleepy car rides home, and has earned his place at her side.

He’s absorbed more tears than I can count, has endured being both victim and bad guy in Barbie World adventures, and has kept an open-eyed vigil over her every night of their years together. And he’s managed to hold his seams together through it all.

If all that doesn’t make him a winner, I don’t know what would.