Welcome to Four Bears in the Bed....tales of humor and life.

I started this blog at the encouragement of my husband, Papa Bear,  and a dear Bear Friend. Apparently, they think I might have some entertaining things to say.  I'm not so sure.  Address all complaints to them.  

I hope you enjoy this blog.  Maybe occasionally get something out of it.  But most of all, I hope that when you leave this site, you have laughed.  Out loud.  Perhaps I'm setting my sights too high. But life tends to throw my household some funny curves, so this site is here to share those stories/thoughts/opinions/poems/pictures/etc. with the general public.  While I've had my share of speed bumps in life, I'm lucky to have a generally great life, great Bear Family and a crowd of Bear Friends who keep me laughing and loving life. 

I know what you really want to know though.  

"How in the world did you come up with that title?"

I'll tell you....

Recently, Sugar Bear (my youngest) awakened from hibernation screaming her little lungs out.  Papa Bear tried every trick to soothe her back to sleep, but was unsuccessful.  I relieved Papa Bear and tried my own soothing-without-picking-baby-up-from-crib-lest-she-become-spoiled-like-the-books-say-she-will tricks.  Nothing worked.  I finally picked her up, at which point I realized she was wet.  soaking wet.  Surprised by the degree of soakedness, I felt the crib.  It too was soaking wet.  (note to self:  in a.m., check other diapers for rips, tears, other malfunctions).  This, I could solve.  I turned on the smallest of lamps and placed Sugar Bear on the changing table.  I unzipped her pajamas, and lo and behold, discovered our problem.  It seems that in the scurry to get Brother Bear and Sugar Bear off to sleepy-town, Papa Bear had forgotten to put a diaper on after her bath. 

Oops!  (growl...)

One dry diaper and new set of pajamas later, I brought Sugar Bear to bed with us (as, remember, her crib is soaking wet and it is the middle of the night.)  We settle into bed and, after wrangling my nose from Sugar Bear's claws, I begin to drift off...  

In the distance I hear...

"Mama."  "Mama!"  "MAMA!!"  I open my eyes to see Brother Bear (my eldest) standing by my bedside.  It seems he's had a bad dream and wants to sleep with us.  Lusting for some proper shut-eye before the alarm goes off, I scoop Brother Bear into our queen sized bed and snuggle him up between myself, Sister Bear, and Papa Bear. (I used to be one of those moms who swore my kids would never sleep in bed with me.  Then I got too darn tired.)  Everyone quickly falls back to sleep. 

Except me.  I have inches of space, and in order to not to roll over and smother one of my precious cubs, I'm contorted and tense.  Plus, Brother Bear has one leg over my legs and his fist in my mouth.  The sound of Sugar Bear sucking on her pacifier is deafening.  But not nearly as loud as Papa Bear's snoring.  

So, as I'm laying there contemplating my wisdom in having children, this song starts dancing through my head:  

"Four Bears in the Bed

And the little one said,

'I'm crowded, roll over'"

I sing the song in my head until the very end:  

"One bear in the bed

and the little one said,

'I'm lonely!'"

Unfortunately, at this moment, I'm neither lonely or alone.  I'm just crowded and exhausted.  I realize - a little to late - that I'm yelling, "everyone STOP TOUCHING ME!"  At which point, Papa Bear vacates the bed and leaves a little more room for the 2 little bears and me to return to hibernation.  

And that, my friends, is how I landed on the title for this blog.  (Added bonuses are:  it plays off our family name, and our little girl's nickname).

So, thanks for visiting.  Enjoy reading.  Laugh a little.  

Or a lot.

Out loud....