One of the really great things about our kids growing up and leaving the nest is that Adam and I really like each other. It's fun to spend time together and we purposely save our errands sometimes so we can do them together.
The other night we were in search of a new Christmas bear.
We saw this guy who seemed like a perfect companion to Lars, but we left him at the store.
If he'd been red, I don't think I'd have been able to resist him.
(I'm only human.)
We eventually found this little guy:
We talked on the way home about how to present him to our children--which is always important. We decided to ring the doorbell and leave him on the doorstep.
What we didn't know is if Emma or Mark would answer the door. They don't answer the door or the phone as a rule (we miss Braeden at such times...OK. We miss Braeden at all the times). It's a frustrating rule and I have to sometimes send them angry texts, "ANSWER YOUR PHONE!" I don't know where we got those two introverts.
We rang the doorbell and lucked out because Mark was walking by and answered the door. They immediately fell for the new arrival. He is a boy--we all agreed--so we named him James.
In a recent letter, Braeden asked if we would name the new bear James if it was a boy (Elizabeth if it was a girl). That's what happens when your son who loves history wants to honor Virginia.
The entire bear community seems to have embraced the little guy.
We're mostly just glad he's smallish. That matters.