On Wednesday, we had a birthday party for Frankie Frog, my son’s Build-a-Bear plushie. He turned one year old, and we celebrated with cake, sandwiches, and even Froggy wine — non-alcoholic, of course, because froggies are already REALLY bouncy.

Frankie isn’t just a really happy plushie to us — he’s part of a CANON event (a pivotal moment that changes the course of a story – I speak in video game terms, be thankful I’m not calling you all chooms) that began last January, during one of the hardest times of my life.

At the start of 2024, I was in the early stages of an anorexia relapse, and I was struggling with grief. This time of year is always hard for me because of my best friend WeeGee’s anniversary — she died on January 13th. Leading up to that date, I’m flooded with vivid memories, and it’s always VERY difficult to navigate.

I knew I wasn’t doing well, and I was trying everything to pull myself out of it. I tried ALL the coping mechanisms, ALL the distractions, EVERYTHING I could think of — and NOTHING helped.

I felt completely lost in myself.

One of the ways I tried to find myself again was by taking my son to Cardiff. Cardiff is one of our FAVOURITE places, full of good memories separately and together. If anything could get me out of the fog, I thought, it would be seeing my son’s face light up in Build-a-Bear.

Whenever we’re in Build-a-Bear, I see my son at EVERY stage of his life all at once.
Toddler him. Child him. Teenage him. Adult him. They’re all visible simultaneously in the way his face lights up when he steps into that froggy wonderland.

There’s NO better feeling than seeing his face light up with pure joy. It grounds me. It reminds me of everything I’m fighting for.

So off we went. My son picked out a spring green frog really excitedly. His face lit up. And for a brief moment, I felt happy. But I was still lost. It didn’t work how I expected or wanted it to.

Worse, I kept sinking. Everything has worsened since then. My ED is worse now than it was a year ago. The fog never lifted.

But Frankie became a canon event for good reasons, too.

My son and I have always bonded through our shared love of plushies. We’ve had weddings, birthday parties, and all kinds of celebrations for them. My son has always taken a plushie everywhere with us, and I’ve always made a point to treat his plushies like part of the family — like my adoptive children.

Frankie is no different. He’s my grandchild. I spoil him with sweets, chocolate, and outfits. I’ve taken photos of him watching horror movies, eating all the sweets, and getting up to froggy mischief, and sent them to my son.

My son texts me back from Uni with, “You’re supposed to be babysitting him responsibly!”

But come on — this is what froggy grandmothers do!

Soon after bringing him home, my son decided to share Frankie’s adventures on Instagram. I thought it was a BRILLIANT idea — and eventually, I joined Instagram too, sharing my bears and our plushie journeys together.

It was a bold move for me. At the time, I’d been isolating. I wasn’t using social media. I’d quit blogging. I was completely cut off from everyone and everything.

It took courage to break out of that isolation, but the idea of sharing our journeys together and how ADORABLE that would be gave me the strength I needed.

Through that courage, I’ve made new friends who are really important to me and who I LOVE so much. More importantly, my son has made friends, too. It’s helped him share his art and build confidence in himself and his abilities, and helped him with the changes that come with starting University.

Frankie has become a froggy symbol of connection, comfort, and joy, even in the middle of a very dark year.

And that’s why we celebrated his first frogging birthday.

Plushies, for us, are not just objects. They’re full of meaning and stories. They’re connections. They’re reminders that good things can still happen, even when you’re suffering the black hole of mental illness and grief.

Frankie Frog became a symbol of everything I’ve tried to get better — And the way I still show up for my son, even when I’m lost in a black hole.
Frankie didn’t pull me out of the darkness like I hoped, but he unexpectedly changed EVERYTHING.

Frankie is the harbinger of connection. He’s basically the exact opposite of the Reaper Harbinger in Mass Effect.

Instead of destruction, he brings comfort, joy, and connection. He’s a symbol of everything we’ve gained — even during my very dark year.

His birthday falls at a difficult time for me — so close to the anniversary of WeeGee’s death. But even in grief – I mean, I’m writing this after crying my eyes out – even in relapse, we celebrated Frankie’s birthday. We celebrated the light he brought to the darkness.

And one year hopefully near, I know, his future birthdays will be a reminder of how far I’ve come from this low moment now, fighting the Reaper Indoctrination of my ED.

Your theme tune for this post is dedicated to my sun, my son.

“My father wasn’t around (my father wasn’t around)
I swear that I’ll be around for you
I’ll do whatever it takes
I’ll make a million mistakes
I’ll make the world safe and sound for you”