Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhh,

SIC 'EM BEARS!

A meager attempt to prove that I am not the worst alumnus of a certain university that just happens to have both their men's and women's basketball team in the SWEET SIXTEEN:

Okay. So maybe that doesn't prove it. But this coordinating accessory must, right?

Go, Bears, Go!

Random thoughts...

A few random thoughts after driving 1800 miles in a car completing a seven day vacation without bear cubs:

• My delicate derriere, despite the padding, can only withstand about 900 miles of driving/riding in a car.
• The bathrooms in a certain state which shall remain unnamed (starts with a "T", is in the south, and ends with an "EE") failed to impress me. Seriously failed. I do, however, have several phone numbers should you be "looking for a good time."
• I have the genetic material of my Grandmother Bear: I love scratch off lottery tickets, and being a back-seat driver.
• Cracker Barrel is trying to take over the world. Seriously. 4 states, 1800 miles and OVER 20 Cracker Barrels (Yes, we counted. You run out of things to do over 1800 miles). Don't be surprised if you receive a Christmas present from me that involves a doily, rooster, or a painted sign with some cute "kuntry" quote. I couldn't resist.
• Sugar Bear is punishing me for leaving her by hanging on me like a monkey and screaming bloody murder if anyone looks at her funny. If not for the screaming and being unable to get anything done, I'd totally love it.
• We were home approximately 24 hours when Brother Bear flooded the bathroom.

Since we haven't had a vacation (sans bear cubs) since Sugar Bear was gestating, all of the above was totally worth it. We had a glorious time. Papa Bear and I have the greatest Parent Bears around, as they made it all possible.

Now I'm off to catch up on my to-dos.

Right after I eat. I have a crazy craving for biscuits and gravy.....

A Cyber Chat

A conversation that occured recently (in my head)...



Loyal Cyber Bear: Mama Bear? Hello? Are you alive? Hellooooooo?



Mama Bear: Huh, what? Oh, Hi! Funny seeing you here! How are you?



Loyal Cyber Bear: Um, I'm good. How are you?



Mama Bear: Oh, I'm great! I'm just great!



Loyal Cyber Bear: Ahem, Mama Bear, uh, I have a question for you.



Mama Bear: Yes?



Loyal Cyber Bear: What happened to you? Where have you been? You've posted only about 2 posts in the last month. Are you okay?



Mama Bear: Oh, yes. That. Well, you see, I was really overwhelmed with Brother Bear's surgery, and recovery and then things started getting better. And then, of course, there was the almost dying of vertigo incident. It took me about a week and a half to feel better from that. During that whole time I started a new writing venture in conjuntion with my church and their Facebook page, so I got a little overwhelmed. By the time I got that together, I had to pack up the family in preparation for the bear cubs' spring break visit to my In-Law Bears while Papa Bear and I headed to The Land of the Bears for a rescheduled (and much needed) vacation. We are now enjoying our last day of freedom, uh, I mean vacation. So, I guess I kinda got a little behind with my Cyber Den, didn't I? Oops! My apologies for neglecting y'all.



Loyal Cyber Bear: Well, it's good to know that you're alive. I was starting to worry!



Mama Bear: Aww. That's so sweet! I didn't know you cared so much!



Loyal Cyber Bear: I do, I do. Now, while we are talking about getting better, how is Brother Bear?



Mama Bear: He is doing uh-may-zing. Like, "Ohmygosh-you-are-going-to-give-your-Mama-Bear-a-heart-attack-doing-back-flips-on-the-trampoline-in-your-casts" good. The first few days of recovery were, as expected, rough. However, he has really bounced back better than I expected! His resilliancy and strength has really overwhelmed us! His biggest complaint is the itchy casts and fatigue at the end of the day. Our biggest complaint is the stench of the casts. Six weeks is a loooong time not to bathe. Shewee! He's scheduled to get the casts off on the 26th of March.



Speaking of being overwhelmed, it's high time I thank several of you Loyal Cyber Bears for your kindness during this time. We knew that you guys would support us, but boy did you overdo it! We received sweet notes and emails and nice surprises for Brother Bear too. I was especially surprised by a sweet day-of phone call from a Cousin-In-Law Bear that I didn't even know read my blog (thanks, G.C. Bear!). All of those things really meant so much to a worried Mama Bear. My sincere thank yous go out to each of you.



Loyal Cyber Bear: Well, you are welcome Mama Bear! It's nice to hear things are going so well! Now tell us a little about this writing venture you mentioned.



Mama Bear: Well, I'm part of a group of 5 people that are each writing a weekly blog post on our church's Facebook Page. And yes, I'm very aware of the humor in the fact that I'm willingly participating in yet another thing on Facebook. Karma's funny that way, isn't it?



Loyal Cyber Bear: (giggling under breath) Yes, that is funny! I'm curious though, what are you writing about, and how can I read it?



Mama Bear: Well, I'm not exactly sure what I'm writing about just yet. So far, it is just some musings on how my life and faith intersect. It's tough though! The pressure of writing something thoughtful is much more difficult than writing something funny. With how I've neglected this blog, I'm a bit concerned about the writer's block I'm going to encounter with this new one! But if you are interested, just become a fan of my church on Facebook. Then look at the notes. My cohorts and I each have a day of the week. I'm guessing you might enjoy them all, but I'm on Thursdays!



Loyal Cyber Bear: That's cool! I'll do it. I'll even try to get Papa Bear, your Big Sister Bear, your Mother Bear and Daddy Bear to get on Facebook too!



Mama Bear: Yeah, good luck with that.



Loyal Cyber Bear: You mentioned something about vacation. Are you and Papa Bear on Vacation?



Mama Bear: Indeed we are. My Mother Bear and My Daddy Bear generously lent us their Cabin in the Woods for the week while my In Law Bears generously offered to take care of the bear cubs. We have been enjoying the fresh mountain air, eating food without hearing anyone complain, hiking, drinking wine, talking without being interrupted, watching movies (without cartoon characters or tushie humor), and sleeping. Oooh, the sleeping. We're sleeping like we used to sleep in college. Remember when you used to sleep like that? Oh, I forgot what it was like to sleep like that. A Mama Bear could get used to it. But, alas, all good things must come to and end and that includes vacation. We leave tomorrow morning to go pick up the bear cubs. I actually miss those furry little critters! But this vacation was just what the doctor ordered for Papa Bear and me.



Loyal Cyber Bear: That is great, Mama Bear! I'm so glad to hear you've had a break. I'm assuming now that you are rested, you'll get back into the swing of this blog thing, right? Right?



Mama Bear: Indeed, it is my hope dear Cyber Bears!! Despite my lack of posts recently, I've really enjoyed occasionally entertaining you with the humor that is my life. I hope you'll stick with me and have fun on this crazy ride. It wouldn't be fun without you!



Loyal Cyber Bear: Aww, shucks. Now I'm blushing.



Mama Bear: You should, Loyal Cyber Bear! I truly appreciate you stopping by the den so often and checking in. Here's to seeing you again. Soon.

It's not a tumor

Loyal Cyber Bears! Missed me? Oooh, how I've missed you!! Life was getting back to normal and I was all ready last week to give you a nice long update on Brother Bear (he's doing GREAT! more coming very soon, I promise) and then the bottom fell out on me. Literally!

Let me 'splain.

Thursdays Sugar Bear goes to Mama Bears' Day Out. So, Thursdays are my days to be super-duper-effecient and get everything-I-wanted-to-do-all-week-without-a-bear-cub done in a mere 5.5 hours. That usually includes an hour or so dedicated to writing and it is, truly, one of my favorite times of the week.

So anyway, I went to bed Wednesday night giddy with anticipation of what the next day had in store for me. Bright and early Thursday morning my alarm went off and I popped out of bed (okay, so maybe my alarm was going off and I heard Papa Bear shout, "Mama Bear your alarm is going off and Sugar Bear is crying!"). I started my normal journey to the bathroom, and that's went it all went wrong.

Terribly, terribly wrong.

I took what I thought were a few straight steps and found myself face-to-face with my chest of drawers. More steps, a wall, a bureau, and door frame later I realized that my balance was a little off. Papa Bear helped me the last few feet to the toilet at which point I realized I needed to forgo my normal bathroom ritual and instead, relieve myself of the contents of my stomach. I then proceeded to stay on the bathroom floor for the next 2 hours watching the room spin every time I opened my eyes and then consequently getting sick. Papa Bear was a champ and cancelled his work plans for the day and took over parenting the cubs. Meanwhile, I asked God for forgiveness for whatever it was I did, prayed for a quick death, and inspected the inner details of my toilet.

I was finally able to crawl - literally on my hands and knees - to the bed, and proceeded to stay there with my eyes closed. Until Saturday afternoon. If I opened my eyes the ceiling spun like a top. Papa Bear came in to check on me and when I rolled over to greet him, everyone regretted it. By that evening, I knew something was terribly wrong and I needed to go to the doctor but I couldn't make it the 9 feet to the toilet much less to the car on the other side of the house. I mentioned something to Papa Bear about a sledgehammer and he retorted back something about only having a crowbar. I'll tell you right now, that crowbar sounded very tempting.

Friday morning my parents arrived to help out (cue angels singing) and I stayed in bed holding on for dear life. Luckily for us, Papa Bear's work has a House Call Program that will send a P.A. Bear to your location. Given the symptoms Papa Bear had entered into their computer system, she arrived assuming I had a stomach bug. Once she saw me splayed on the bed, eyes closed, holding onto the mattress, her eyes got really big.

I knew it. I was dying.

She said, "Oh my, you have Labyrinthitis!"

My response to her (seriously) was, "How long do I have to live?" Let's just say, I didn't appreciate it when she subsequently started laughing.

Apparently, the near-death experience I was having was vertigo due to some sort of inner ear infection/irritation. The nice P.A. Bear then said that I would certainly not die, but she understood how I thought I might. She prescribed 3 medications, one of which would help the vertigo. I think I might have kissed her at that point...but my memory is still a little fuzzy.

Needless to say, I've never, ever, ever, EVER, EV-AH felt so bad in my entire life. I did not rejoin the land of the semi-normal until Sunday. My parents stayed until we were assured that I could survive without the vertigo meds (can't drive on them) and perform basic daily tasks like, say, breathing.

And this, Cyber Bears, is why you didn't hear from me last week. I hope you understand. More updates on the Four Bears coming soon.

Until then, may the Lord bless you. And, may you never in your lifetime experience vertigo. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy!

Today

Today, we covet your prayers as Brother Bear has surgery to address his toe-walking.

I appreciate your patience with this Mama Bear as I navigate his recovery, parenting another busy cub, and blogging!!

Why?

"Mama Bear, why do they want me to walk flat footed?"

I took a deep breath. I said a quick prayer. This was the question I'd been waiting for since we had our first appointment with the orthopedic surgeon. This was the question I was dreading. Because I knew the question that lingered behind it. "What is wrong with me?" Why do I know this? Because, I too, walked on my toes as a child. I too, wondered why everyone wouldn't just let me be and walk any old way I wanted.

But now, I was the Mama Bear. I was in charge of the one who just wanted me to "let him be". I'll admit, there was a part of me that wanted to just pick that bear cub up and run to the woods where we could start a toe walking commune, but I didn't. I had to be the Mama Bear.

I took another deep breath, and gently explained it to him. I told him that while his body prefers to walk on his toes, that it wasn't good for his muscles to walk on his toes forever. That, if he continued, he would risk losing use of some muscles and then wouldn't be able to do every activity he wanted. I explained that walking with your whole foot (not just your toes) is how a human being is intended to walk. He seemed fine with that explanation and, as kindergartners are apt to do, moved quickly on to another question.

But I didn't.

This is a question Papa Bear and I have dealt with as parents since Brother Bear began his journey into the upright world. He began walking on his toes as soon as he started walking. We were hoping (as the pediatrician suggested) that it would go away. But we also knew that 70% of toe walkers had a parent who walked on their toes.

At the age of three, we were referred to an orthopedic surgeon at a local Orthopedic Hospital. He told us that most kids "grow out of this" and that he would see us in a year. In a year, at age 4, he said that Brother Bear didn't seem to be growing out of it like we had hoped. He broached the idea of a surgical solution, and wanted to see us again in 9 months. Nine months later, he confirmed no positive changes in Brother Bear's gait and told us that surgery was the best option. We asked for more time. He gave us 3 months.

We began to search in earnest for alternate solutions. We were divinely connected with a Physical Therapist who, with twice weekly visits and night braces (molded twice a month), helped Brother Bear gain enough range of motion to actually put his heels on the ground with ease (and without pain), but we were unable to get enough range of motion for him to be able to walk flat footed. The therapist, who was very connected with the Orthopedic Hospital, noticed some odd things about Brother Bear's reflexes. She suggested that these things might suggest a neurological component to our problem.

At our next checkup, our orthopedic surgeon agreed to a neurological work up. The neurologist became our close friend over the next year. He said that we needed to "retrain his brain." We put Brother Bear in cast for 4 weeks. He gained some elasticity, but the neurological symptoms only increased. The neurologist suggested more testing. We had an MRI that found "a spot" on his brain. It might explain the problem. We continued our effort to "retrain the brain" by having AFO Braces made for Brother Bear, and having him wear them six hours every day.

Another MRI, a genetic test, and 9 months later, we are back where we started. Brother Bear (when he's out of his braces) still walks on his toes, and we still don't know why. They call it "Idiopathic Toe Walking". (Funny - My Daddy Bear {a retired physician} asked me if I knew what "idiopathic" meant. He said "idio" means, "I don't know" and "pathic" means "why the hell" Ha!).

Basically, Brother Bear walks on his toes and no one has a text book reason why. Unfortunately, we just can't keep letting him walk like this.

So, Tuesday morning, we will check him into the Orthopedic Hospital where a very seasoned, very capable Doctor Bear will perform a Bilateral Sliding Heel Cord Lengthening Surgery. Basically, the Doctor Bear will make small incisions in 3 places in both of Brother Bear's Achilles heels. Doing so will allow the muscle to "give" enough to stretch Brother Bear's feet into dorsiflexion (toes to shins). The Doctor Bear will then put hard "walking casts" on Brother Bear's feet while in dorsiflexion. He will be in these casts for 4-6 weeks. The theory is, that this "extra length" (and time in casts) will allow Brother Bear the ability to walk flat footed.

As you see from my writing, we didn't come to this decision lightly (quickly, or easily!!). Papa Bear and I did not want this surgery. It's painful and the entire recovery is about 6 months. Neither of us wanted to inflict this on Brother Bear. But, after many consultations, and many prayers, we feel confident that we are making the right decision for our cub.

So, tomorrow, I send my my cub into surgery. A piece of his innocence will be lost in this process and, as his Mama Bear, I mourn that. I will be brave. But he will be braver.

Until then, we sent him to school for the first time in over a year without his braces. He was ecstatic! Papa Bear and I both figured that one day without braces wouldn't hurt.

Plus, we gave him one last day to just "let him be". To let him know that nothing, absolutely nothing is wrong with him.

Nothing says, "stress relief" like:

Double Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookies!

I was watching another bear cub, and decided to use her as a decoy for my sweet tooth. Mwah ha haa! I'm so sneaky. (In my defense, I did offer her two options: 1) beauty salon or 2) baking cookies). (In her defense, WHO in their right mind would choose beauty shop over cookies??)

They are the perfect mix of salty and sweet. Mmmmmm....

Because I love you Cyber Bears (and I can see some of you licking your screens), here's the recipe:

Double Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookies

1 - 16 oz pckg. semisweet chocolate chips

2 cups flour

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. salt

3/4 cup brown sugar

3/4 cup sugar

1 cup unsalted butter

1 cup cream peanut butter

2 eggs

2 tsp. vanilla

6 oz. milk chocolate chips

6 oz. peanut butter chips

Place semisweet chocolate chips in the top of a double boiler over hot, not simmering, water. Melt the chocolate, stirring until smooth. Remove the top part of the double boiler from the bottom. Set aside to cool to room temp. In small bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt. In a medium bowl, whisk together sugars. Add butter and beat until well combined. Add peanut butter and beat until smooth. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat until just combined. Add flour mixture, milk chocolate chips and peanut butter chips. Beat until no streaks of flour are visible. Pour in melted chocolate; mix until marbled. Drop dough in 3 TBS mounds, 2" apart on ungreased baking sheet.

Bake 15-18 minutes at 325F or until just set but still soft. Cool on cookie sheet, then transfer to wire rack. Makes 4 dozen cookies.

Perhaps my metabolism isn't the only problem....

Words

Sugar Bear has learned a new word:

MINE.

Need I say more?

Junkie

My bear cubs aren't the best eaters. Well - what they like, they eat a lot of. I mean, if I served up pizza, hot dogs, french fries and pudding every day - they'd be great eaters.

But, alas, I try to throw in a few healthy options here and there. Thus, my bear cubs aren't the best eaters.

One breakfast food we've settled on as both delicious to them and nutritious enough for me to not feel horrifically guilty serving it to them is Eggo Nutrigrain Blueberry Waffles (no payments/endorsements/under-the-table deals were made here. I'm just a Mama Bear telling you what we eat). Sugar Bear wakes up, rubs the sleep from her eyes and says, "Wah-FUU!". Brother Bear cleans his breakfast plate in mere seconds. Now, this may have a wee bit more to do with the very unhealthy amounts of gooey syrup that adorn these oh-so-healthy waffles, but we're not talking about that. We're talking about a semi-healthy, no bear cub complaining, Mama Bear can drink her coffee in peace kinda breakfast here.

So, needless to say, we buy ALOT of waffles for our den. We DO NOT run out of waffles. The world turns upside down, heads spin, and bear cubs say ugly things if we run out of waffles. Every week during my weekly grocery run, I consistently by 2 boxes of these suckers. It's like clockwork - my cart just glides down the aisle. I don't even have to look. I could be blindfolded and I would be able to get down the aisle, open the freezer case, and grab my 2 boxes of waffles.

That is, until recently.

A month or so ago I went to buy our "healthy" waffles, and they weren't there.

Gasp!

Now, I was shopping at a different location than my normal location (same store), so I thought, "Oh, they just don't have any because I don't shop here every week and they don't know to ALWAYS have 2 boxes of healthy waffles each week for me." We made do that week, and I returned to my regular store. I was certain we could restock our precious breakfast treats and then all would be right with the world again.

No go.

My normal store didn't have them. I thought maybe they'd done the whole "switch things around so you'll buy more stuff" trick. Nope. Everything else was in its normal place. They were just running suspiciously low on one brand of waffles.

And then I noticed the sign.

"Dear customers, due to a manufacturing shortage, we are experiencing a delay in our waffle inventory. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and hope to rectify the problem as soon as possible"*

I started to sweat. Profusely.

Manufacturing shortage? Really? What could they be short of - fake blueberries? How hard are those to come by??? What in the WORLD could be the hold up?

In an extreme moment of panic, I decided to try the organic, whole wheat flaxseed waffles as a short term replacement. You can only imagine how that went over. NO AMOUNT of sugary syrup could cover up the delicious taste of flaxseed.

Do these people know what they are doing to my life? Breakfast now consists of, "Sweetie, would you like some eggs? Okay, how 'bout some oatmeal? Oookay, what about a steamin' bowl of cream of wheat? Now..calm down..calm down, I'll get that bowl of sugar topped sugar for you just as quickly as I can!!"

Even worse, I feel like I've become a junkie. Each week, I run straight to the freezer aisle, open the door and start throwing waffle boxes around in hopes that there might be just one little box left. I'm left jonesin' on the corner waiting for the next Eggo truck to arrive.

A month later, and the cravings haven't gone away. We're making do, but barely. It's a day by day survival kinda thing. I never thought it would come to this for me. I've sunk to a new low.

I hear they have an experimental treatment program at Betty Ford. I'll let you know how it goes.

Kinda gives a whole new meaning to "Leggo my Eggo", doesn't it?

*quoted as best as my panicked brain could remember

Fuzzy Math

I've been doing some math.

Okay, now that you've stopped laughing and caught your breath, can we move on?

Seriously, I've been doing some metabolic mathematical computations and I think I'm a little worried.

You see, when I was a pre-30 year old bear, all it took for me to stay fit and healthy (read: fit into my stinkin' jeans) was a mere 30 minutes of daily cardio. Just like the doctors tell you. No problem! Anyone can do 30 minutes!

Then, my 3rd decade and 1st bear cub came along. I found that if I wanted to stay fit and healthy, I would need to increase my cardio to 40 minutes per day. I also found that I needed to buy a new pair of jeans. Easy enough.

Three point five decades brought an additional bear cub, and an additional 10 minutes of cardio.

Now, I'm over halfway through my 3rd decade, past my 2nd bear cub, and on my 4th pair of jeans (they call them, "mom jeans" now). I'm trying my best to get down to my post-bear cub 1 fighting weight (which is NO WHERE NEAR my pre-bear cub weight - so I feel like I'm being realistic here) and I recently found myself stuck again. Bouncing back and forth on the scale like a trampoline artist.

Needless to say, I find myself very frustrated - but unwilling to give up just yet. Thus, I've added an additional 20 minutes to my workout. (Side note: I'm also trying something called "circuit training" to mix it up a bit. Cyber Bears, there are parts of my body that hurt that I didn't even know existed!)

So, this is what landed me doing mathematical projections. And here's the personal computations I came up with in order for me to stay fit and healthy so far**:

If age is less than 30, then: workout = 30 minutes per day.

If age is greater than 30 but less than 35, then: workout = 40 minutes per day.

If age is 35, then: workout = 50 minutes per day.

If age is greater than 35 but less than 40, then: workout 70 minutes per day.

Being the obsessive compulsive bear that I am - I projected that formula forward.

And that is when I got depressed.

Because, Cyber Bears, I realized that in order to keep my fluffy bear body healthy at age 65, I'm going to be working out 190 minutes PER DAY. That's over THREE HOURS of working out.

Every. Single. Day.

Sigh. I'm buying a new pair of jeans.

That'll teach me to do math.

**funny note: the first time I wrote out the math calculations, I used the proper symbols for greater than and less than. When I saved, there were all sorts of alarms because it thought I had some HTML code errors. Had to start all over again!

Things I've learned

Here are a few things I learned yesterday (in case you were interested)...

• Never, ever, ever, ever tell your bear cub how many shots/needle pokes they are going to receive unless you are ABSOLUTELY, 100%, without-a-doubt positive that the number is correct. Because, hypothetically speaking, you might - in good faith - tell them that the number is 3 and it actually turns out to be 5.
• NO amount of stickers can convince a 6 year old bear cub that 5 needle pokes (dubbed, "the stapler" by Brother Bear) is O.K.
• Phlebotomists are really, really nice. Until you kick them in the shins. Then the gloves come off. (Okay, the gloves don't literally come off because that would be totally unsanitary. But you know what I mean.)
• Two adult bears are no match for a 50 pound pissed off bear cub.
• My bear cub is exceptionally good at UNO. Like - freak of nature - good.
• It is darn near impossible to un-pry a 6 year old bear cub's clenched paw.
• Papa Bear can nap just about anywhere at anytime. It is a coping mechanism I wish I had.
• Pancakes with whipped cream and copious amounts of maple syrup are a fabulous reward.
• Pediatric Phlebotomist is officially off my list of potential careers. I'll stick with Mama Bear. It's easier.
• I have an amazingly tough, resilient bear cub. (But, I already knew that)

In a split second

Okay, maybe not a split second, but you get my drift. I went to check a few emails (seriously, just a few) and THIS is what I returned to.

And you wonder why I'm not posting as often. It's because, if I'm not tearing after Sugar Bear (a.k.a. The Tazmanian Devil, a.k.a. Hurricane Oso De Azucar) and her mess, I'm rescuing her from the top of tables and chairs.

I should have had her when I was younger. Because this stage is going to send me to an early grave. Or at least get me put on arthritis and high blood pressure medication.

Oh, gotta go. Sugar Bear, put that downnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And, breathe.

OhmygoshIjustgotthisreallycoolcoffeemaker.Itisthemostfabulousthingyou'veeverseen.Ifellinlovewith

itoverChristmaswhenIusedthenewoneMyMamaBearhad.Ievenhadafriendwritepostabouthersrecentlyonherblog.Itmakescoffeewheneveryouwantathepushofabutton.AllyouhavetodoisLITERALLY

pushabuttonandVOILAcoffee.ThecoffeemakerwehadwassuchapainandsomessyIneverwanted

tomakeanyothercoffeethantheonepotPapaBearandIhaveinthemorning.But,OHMYGOSH,

nowIwanttomakecoffeeallthetime.ITISSOOOOOEASY.Andthereisbarelyanycleanup.

NowwhenI'mfeelingalittleslow,allIhavetodoispopapodinthemachineandI'vegotalittlepickmeup

rightthereinmyhand!Howconvenientisthat?

Onanothernote,IhavebeenMISSEFFECIENTlately!I'mtalkinggettingthingsdone,cyberbears!

I'mcleaningoutmykitchenandpayingbillsandfollowingupwithpeople.I'mevenpostingmorethan

oneblogpostaweekthisweek.AmazinghoweffiecientIam!!Well,gottagtherearebaseboards

thatmustbecleanedandreallyimportantstufftobedone.Whew!I'dbettergetanothercupofcoffee

beforeIstart!

PerhapsI'llmakeitdecafthistime.

Party like it's 2009....

Yes, that is a pair of skivvies on her head. That's how we roll around here.

She seems to have suddenly acquired a taste for dress up. It doesn't matter the item, she's using it to dress up. The other day, she entertained herself with a washcloth as a hat for about an hour.

This is just another sign that I should put the laundry away sooner. But, hey, I was just proud that the skivvies she found were actually clean. I take my victories where I can Cyber Bears.