The Saga of Brown Bear

When our oldest daughter, Reese, was just a baby, she received a plush brown bear as a present.  The bear, who soon settled into the accurate although uncreative name Brown Bear, wore a pink outfit with bunny ears that seemed superfluous.  A bear?  A bunny?  Are we trying to give this little fellow (who, despite the pink, really seemed like a "he") an identity crisis?

We shed the outfit and tossed it, rarely thinking of the confused origins concerning his stuffed animal identity again. 

That is, we didn't think of it again until Brown Bear, who undoubtedly had risen to the illustrious status of Reese's favorite plush toy of all time, was lost on a shopping expedition four years later.

We traced over our steps.  I called stores.  My husband talked to managers in person and sifted through the forgotten umbrellas and overlooked mateless gloves that had been tossed into lost-and-found bins under the customer service counter.  The result was the same each time.  No Brown Bear.

Bedtime was rough that night.

Within days we had googled "bear wearing bunny costume" (really, there are more results to this search than there ought to be) until we found the one.  An image of Reese's little brown bear in the original pink bunny outfit was on the screen, for the taking, once we paid full shipping on Amazon, of course.

A few weeks later a package arrived on our doorstep.

Brown Bear had come home.

Joel and I tore into the box, lifted the replacement bear from the styrofoam peanuts, and immediately realized something was wrong.  This brown bear's bunny costume wasn't removable.  This poor guy was stitched into a pink sleeper with bunny ears.

To eBay we would turn.  Lo and behold, some woman in Washington or Oregon (I forget which) just happened to be selling a "brown bear in removable bunny costume," and gladly shipped our second replacement bear across the country.  The reunion was sweet indeed.

And that is the long-winded explanation of why we have two brown bears -- one of which permanently wears a pink bunny costume.

But that's not what this post is about.  I provided the background so I could tell you this:

Due to excessive stretching by certain little hands, Brown Bear recently suffered an injury to his neck that required surgery, and when you've invested as much into a brown bear as we have with ours, you take surgery very seriously.

 You select thread judiciously.

You hold a paw for comfort.

And although you possess precious little skill in sewing, you stitch with care, knowing that little hands will continue to not-so-gently tug on this arm.

Long live Reese's Brown Bear.  And long live Reese's Pink Brown Bear.  (I told you that we had creativity issues while naming stuffed animals.  Thankfully, this isn't true for babies or our children would be Baby Girl, Second Baby Girl, and Baby Girl Who-Looks-Just-Like-Her-Two-Older-Sisters-and-Will-Inevitably-Be-Called-By-Their-Names-Multiple-Times-Daily.)

Brown Bear, we hope that you are with our family for a long, long time.  Please don't get lost.  We really don't want to have to buy you again.


  1. This tugs at my heart. I love it. I still love my teddy from when I was a baby. I hope she has Brown Bear forever.

  2. My little girl lost this bear at Sam's today. :(  Now I am searching the internet for one.  I'm not sure she will accept a replacement for him, but I think I have to try.  I feel so weird about buying a used one.  I had no idea there was one with a removable suit and one with a permanent suit.  Hers had the suit as part of the chest, but the hood could come off and on.  She has been completely attached to Bear since she was 5 months old and now she is 3 1/2.  Breaks my heart.  She said, "Can we go give money to get him back?"  If you know where I can fine one, please let me know.  My email is kandibrian@yahoo .com.  Thanks!


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