Summer Survival

The answer for "what to do when you run out of ideas (and, clearly, supplies) but school is not yet in session":

Fuzzy Wuzzy

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear...

Fuzzy Wuzzy grew some HAIR!

Life with my boy cub

Life with my boy cub is never dull. Conversations are always entertaining and filled with, well, boy stuff. At least once a day, I find myself either groaning in utter disbelief, or stifling a laugh. Here's a snippet of just a few things that occurred in ONE mere day in our Den:

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Brother Bear: Did you know that when you sneeze your body blows air through your nose? But if your nose is stopped up, then it blows out snot. If it is really stopped up, it backs up and comes out of your mouth.

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Brother Bear: It would be so cool if I tooted in the bathtub! My toot would make bubbles in the water! (hysterical bear cub laughing ensues)

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Brother Bear: Can I have a show?

Mama Bear: No.

Brother Bear: Please give me a show?

Mama Bear: No.

Brother Bear: If you give me a show, I'll give you a dollar. If you let me watch 2, I'll give you 2 dollars. If you let me watch 3, I'll give you 2 dollars, 55 cents, and 75 cents. You can buy anything you want!

(for those curious, while I was tempted, I didn't take the bait.)

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Mama Bear: Brother Bear, please put your braces on and walk down the hallway so the nice Orthotist can make sure the braces are adjusted correctly.

Brother Bear: Okay. Walk. (begins walking down populated hallway) Wiener walk, wiener walk, wiener walk, wiener walk, wiener walk, wiener walk, wiener walk, wiener walk, wiener walk....

Mama Bear: mumble, grumble, GROWL, mumble, grumble....

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Brother Bear: See, Mama Bear, I told you!

Mama Bear: Told me what?

Brother Bear: That you were smart. Smarter than all the other bears. Well, not the college bears. The college bears are smarter.

Mama Bear: But, Mama Bear went to college. Twice, in fact.

Brother Bear: Oh. Well. I'm only going to college for 4 days.

Mama Bear: Really? I'm not sure you are going to get a lot out of just 4 days.

Brother Bear: Okay. Then I'll go ten days.

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Brother Bear: MAMA BEAR, I'M OUTTA TOILET PAPER!!

Mama Bear: Okay, Brother Bear! Remain calm! I'm bringing you a new roll of....huh? Um, Brother Bear, why are you stark naked on the toilet?

Brother Bear: Ahh! I took my shirt off! I didn't mean to take my shirt off!!!

Mama Bear: (rolls eyes, hands toilet paper to Brother Bear, and walks away...)

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Sigh. I'm going to miss these interactions soon. They are one of the several things that make the tough times with him just a little easier.

But one thing is for certain. His Kindergarten teacher is going to have a lot of fodder for her party conversations!

Order, please.

Order is good. Order is calm. Order is, well, orderly. I like order.

That doesn't mean that with 2 bear cubs, their activities, my activities, etc. we have any order in our life. In fact, we are pretty much devoid of order around here these days. And with a new school routine starting soon, I feel like it's only going to get more disorderly.

Have I mentioned that I like order? Scratch that. I love order. Luv it. I HEART ORDER.

So I started making plans recently to restore some order to our lives.

Our new school starts at 8:00 a.m. The first bell rings at 7:50 a.m. Cyber Bears, Our Den has never made it anywhere before 8:00 a.m. unless under extreme duress. And now, Brother Bear has to have his furry little bottom in his chair no later than 8:00 a.m. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Gulp.

Enter phase 1 of my "plan": a chart. That's right, a chart. The only thing I love better than order is a good old fashioned chart. They're clear, they're concise, and (you guessed it) they're orderly. Right up my alley.

It's a simple pre-reader/reader chart that walks Brother Bear exactly through what he should do each morning. Follow the chart, and he'll be ready to go in no time! Take a look:

Ahh. Don't you just feel the order oozing out of that chart? Can't you just see how orderly our mornings will be? I get an endorphin rush every time I look at it.

So, while I'm on an orderly "high", I move on....

Brother Bear's school, while public, has a uniform policy in place. On one hand, I love the idea of the uniform. My school shopping was done in minutes with a few quick clicks of the mouse (you didn't really think I would actually venture away from the computer, now would you?). On the other hand, the potential uniform combinations were stressing me out. And, if they are stressing me out, what do you think they are going to do to a sleepy bear cub? I mean, seriously, The options are: white, red, or navy shirts with khaki or navy pants. And I'll just put it straight: I REFUSE TO HAVE AN ARGUMENT AT SEVEN O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING AS TO WHY IT IS NOT OKAY TO WEAR A NAVY SHIRT WITH NAVY PANTS. That's right. I'm not afraid to admit it. I claim, nay, embrace my neuroses.

Thus, phase 2 of my orderly plan: the chart - on steroids. I created a chart for Brother Bear's nightly routine (whence, in an orderly fashion, he lays out all of his clothing for the next day). The chart details exactly what options he can select to wear. No fuss, no arguing. Just clean, plain, order. Here's a look at the second chart:

Ahem.

I can hear you laughing at me, Cyber Bears. Go ahead. Laugh all you want.

Why?

Because I've already created my own little chart that says you can.

Countdown

Lately, I feel like I hear this sound over and over in my head. Why? Let me give you a few visual hints:

Hint #1

Hint #2

That's right Cyber Bears, it's time for SCHOOL.

Brother Bear starts Kindergarten in a mere 2 weeks. I should be thrilled, right? Dancing in the streets? Counting down the minutes until I can shove him out the minivan door into those hallowed halls of education?

But, I'm not. Instead, all I can hear is that dreadful countdown music. And, to be honest with you, I'm surprised by that!

I vividly remember My Mother Bear on my first day of Kindergarten. I'm the baby bear cub of my family. My Mother Bear teased me relentlessly that she was going to stand at the windows of my Kindergarten class and cry, "BOO HOO HOO!" Once I entered the class, I refused to look at her for fear of seeing her crying at the window. I'm being punished for that now!

You see, my time at home with this amazing, precious, bossy, brilliant, stubborn, strong willed, kind hearted, confident bear cub is coming to a close. It's like I've been given 2 weeks to live, and I'm rushing around trying to make sure that I cram everything into that 2 weeks.

Okay. Maybe I'm being a wee bit melodramatic. But, that's sorta how it feels.

Since the day that bear cub took his first breath, he has basically been by my side. I gave up a career that I enjoyed (and was occasionally good at, and - oh yeah - MADE MONEY doing) so that I could be with him 24-7. And boy, have I been! I was there for his first smile, coo, walk and words. Together we conquered breast feeding and breathing issuses, strong wills, and temper tantrums. I think it is possible that I've learned more from him these past 5 years and 11 months than he has from me.

And now, I have to share him. And let him go.

I realize that it's not like I'm sending this cub off to college. But I am saying goodbye to and era, and ushering in something new (and, um, unknown). I'll no longer be the one he relies on for the majority of his day. Between the hours of 7:50 a.m. and 2:50 p.m., if he needs a hug, a cuddle, a smile, a book, or a band-aid, he won't get it from me. And that, I must mourn.

But it isn't all weeping and nashing of teeth around here. Why? Because in the midst of my mourning, I know this one thing: he is ready. He is ready to face a new challenge. To make new friends, to learn new things. This is what I keep repeating to myself over and over. He's ready, he's ready, he's ready....

I just wish I was.

While the bear cub's away..

...the Mama Bear cleans! At least, that was my plan.

Brother Bear has been with his Mimi & Poppa Bear (Papa Bear's Parents) for the week. Historically, I've done some intense cleaning during these visits. But Sugar Bear put a fabulous wrench in my plan. Instead, we've had fun this week one-on-one playing and working on where her ears are located - as she thinks they are on the top of her head. Sigh.

When possible during the week, I have done some small cleaning projects. Specifically decluttering the Bear Den. Is it just me, or do Bear Cubs quadruple the clutter? Argh! Besides all the extra toys and blankets and clothes, you then have the rocks, bottle caps and gravel found on the playground. And, of course, you have the artwork. My GOD THE ARTWORK. I try to save some of the good artwork, but have you ever tried to throw away one of your Bear Cub's "less than stellar art"? Whewee! I only made that mistake once.

Instead? I shove it in a cabinet and then sort through it when he's out of town (Oh. Don't say you haven't done it either!). I know I'm awful. I know this is going to be a topic of conversation during his many therapy sessions he'll have later in life. Oh well! I WANT MY HOUSE BACK. And slimming down the artwork gets me one step closer.

Next task: Sugar Bear's high chair. If the sign of good parenting is the cleanliness of your bear cub's high chair, I'm in trouble.

Big trouble.

Backfire

Warning: this post uses biologically correct terminology. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

At the Four Bears Den, we've always tried to use the biologically correct terms when it comes to body parts. We don't go throwing the words around loosely, mind you, but when needed we aren't afraid to call things what the dictionary (and the doctors) call them.

So Big Brother has always know the correct terms for his own body parts. And once Sugar Bear was in the works, he began a lengthy education on the correct terms for female body parts. In fact, anyone who asked him, "are you excited about the bear cub in your Mama Bear's belly?" would be treated to the response, "it's not in my Mama Bear's belly. It's in her uterus."

In addition to the six-month-older Cousin Bear previously mentioned, Brother Bear has a newly 14 year old Cousin Bear. Totally precious, gorgeous, sweet and kind. Every Mama Bear's dream kid. Big Cousin Bear is fabulous with her little sister cub and Brother Bear. While in the Land of the Bears, she would often play with them in the river or on the deck. Brother Bear adores her.

So, one day, the 3 Cousin Bears were having fun and Big Cousin Bear decided to come inside. Brother Bear wasn't quite finished playing, so he followed her inside and swatted her on her bottom. Big Cousin bear (in her ever-so-patient and sweet voice) said, "Please don't touch my bottom."

In an attempt to teach Brother Bear about respecting other people's bodies, I then told him that it is not nice to touch other people's bottoms. I then asked him to apologize to Big Cousin Bear.

Big Brother Bear walked over to Big Cousin Bear and said, "I'm sorry, Big Cousin Bear, for touching your vagina."

Gulp.

Big Cousin Bear covered her mouth, started giggling like a school girl, and ran out of the room. My Brother Bear literally choked on his coffee. I narrowly escaped wetting myself.

I guess that whole correct terminology thing backfired on me, huh?

The Devil is in the details

Below is an actual conversation overheard between Brother Bear and his cousin bear who is six months older (and clearly, wiser).

Brother Bear: Mama Bear! It worked! My prayers finally worked! I prayed

and asked God to get the gnats to stop bothering me. And it

worked! They aren't bothering me any more!

Cousin Bear: God didn't make the gnats go away Brother Bear!

It was the bug spray!

P.V.S.D.

Miss me?

I'd like to say I missed you all too. But, um, I was too busy relaxing. I actually thought about posting some of our happenings while away, but then the idea of climbing up the stairs to the computer seemed like too much work. Instead, I chose to read (all three on my list!), nap, play, and visit with family. Ahhhhhh....

More posts coming soon on the fun we had while away.

We're back and settled just in time to leave tonight on a road trip to Papa Bear's Family Reunion. In hindsight, I might have been a wee bit crazy when I planned such a quick turnaround. Oh well!

In other news, I've been diagnosed with P.V.S.D.

What's that you say?

Post Vacation Stress Disorder.

It really is a true disorder. I promise. Seriously.

I returned home to the Four Bears Den to find that I had to cook meals, do laundry, run errands and entertain the bear cubs all by myself. Sugar Bear decided that napping was optional, and Brother Bear felt the same about obeying.

And the worst offense? I had to make my own cup of coffee. In the Land of the Bears, I would sit down to nurse Sugar Bear and My Mother Bear would deliver a steaming cup of joe like a fabulous coffee fairy.

Sigh. You see why I've been diagnosed with P.V.S.D? Some people call it a whopping slap of reality, but I like my diagnosis better. With such an official title it almost makes you feel sorry for me too, doesn't it? My understanding is that there is only one experimental treatment for this disorder.

More Vacation.

L-O-S-E-R

How do you spell sore loser?

M-A-M-A B-E-A-R.

While in the Land of the Bears, we try to enjoy a multitude of games after the bear cubs are hibernating. My Mother Bear and Daddy Bear have just about any game one might want to play.

We played an especially close game of Scrabble the other night. It was neck and neck between myself and Papa Bear. He spelled the word, "heated" which put him in the lead. Then My Mother Bear stole my next placement (that would have put me in the lead), so I spelled something easy (read: not particulary point-worthy).

Then, with a final twist of cruel irony, Papa Bear laid his last tile. It was a "C", which added to his previous word spelled, "Cheated".

Does anyone beside me smell a conspiracy? No one should be allowed to win with the word cheated.

I demand a recount.

Then, last night, we played Rummikub. I was mortified that I never won a single set. Despite My Daddy Bear's protestations that he was the official loser, I lost by something like 100 points.

Did I mention that I'm not a good loser?

I'm planning on challenging Brother Bear to a fierce game of Go Fish tomorrow. I need an ego boost.

Growth Spurt

It seems that Sugar Bear has really taken to the mountain air and is having a particularly impressive growth spurt. Either that, or she has a tape-worm. Only time will tell.

Let me expound by telling you what all this 10 month old bear cub consumed for dinner tonight (no judgement on what she actually ate, please. I'm on vacation. Just note the amount):

• 3 mini cheese quesadillas
• several green beans
• 1 banana
• 3 slices of watermelon
• Brother Bear's leftover chicken from his dinner (which, by the way, was 1.5 chicken nuggets and a slice of watermelon. sigh.)
• 1 serving of Yo-Baby Yogurt

She was still crying and giving me the sign for "more", but I was certain that her stomach might actually explode so I cut her off. Plus, we're 1 hour from a grocery store so we must conserver our resources.

The bear cub must have a hollow leg.

Here's hoping she gets her Papa Bear's metabolism. Because she certainly inherited her Mama Bear's disdain for portion control.

To The Land of the Bears, and why we go..

Weeeee're OFF!

That's right, Cyber Bears. The Four Bears Family is off to the Wilderness! As of 10:30 a.m. CST (assuming no delays!), we will be on our way for 17 glorious days galavanting around The REAL Land of the Bears. While we will not have access to cell phone service (boo {cough} hoo {cough} hoo {cough}!), we will have access to the internet. So, don't fret. I intend to occasionally updated you on the happenings of the Four Bears Family whilst in their natural bear habitat.

But while we are traveling and settling in, I thought I would fill you in a bit as to why I make it a point to travel half way across the country to the mountains, and then spend 3 whole weeks there. And, no, the answer does not begin with "because I'm crazy".

My earliest bear cub memories start with fun in the woods with my neighborhood pals ("The Three Musketeers" we were called). The woodsy area behind our houses was our playground and we could often be found catching tadpoles and lightning bugs and creating our own universe with fallen branches and brush.

We then moved to (what used to be) "the country" on a tar road with only a few houses. We were introduced to even more outdoors there. We road horses, played in hay barns, drove 3 wheelers, and (believe it or not) antagonized Brahman calves (and, subsequently, their mamas). While we had all the conveniences of modern life, the outdoors was our oyster and we ate it up. I knew which wildflower was okay to pick, and which one wasn't. By summer's end, my face was extra freckled from the sun, my feet were full of stickle-burs and splinters from running barefoot, and my legs and arms polka-dotted with calamine lotion in an attempt to cure a host of chigger and mosquito bites.

Now I'm a "grown up" Mama Bear, who lives in the city. The concrete jungle. And while I love the life we have created here, the one regret I have is that my bear cubs won't roam about like I did as a bear cub. So, just one of the reasons why we make this trip is to introduce our bear cubs to the woods - their natural habitat (even if they don't know it). Brother Bear has already learned basic rafting skills (stay in the boat, please), how to slide down a waterfall, the fine art of blackberry picking and trout fishing, and - alas - the joy of a roasting (and eating) marshmallows over a fire. Not to mention trying to spot bears (and 'coons, and deer, etc) at night with the spotlight! I cannot make my bear cubs love the outdoors, but I can certainly teach them to know the outdoors with these trips.

Another reason why I make this trip is to slow us down. I am the worst in the family for biting off more than I can chew, and this trip is a great way to slow down our manic family pace and remind my bear cubs (and myself) about rest. It is so wonderful to escape - even for a little while - the hustle and bustle. And where we go, let me tell you, there is no hustle and bustle! Who can't resist a place where there are 6 porch swings, weekend "pick & grins" on the courthouse square, and the biggest worry is ticks? This place practically begs you to rest. You walk inside, times stands still, and your worries just melt into oblivion.

If I haven't already given you enough reasons, let me give you another: My Daddy Bear. This is truly his stompin' grounds. His Daddy & Mama Bear brought him here when he was just a bear cub. He made memories with his family as well as with his Bear Cub Scouts that we've heard retold for ages. And now, I have the opportunity to let him share those memories with my bear cubs. The gleam in his eye as he goes floating down the river with Brother Bear or lets him pull in that 3 pound trout "all by himself", or passes along sacred fire building tips are worth more than gold to me. These are the moments that I treasure now, and my bear cubs will cherish even more later.

And finally, we make this trip because we have the amazing opportunity - which I do not overlook. My Daddy and Mother Bear worked hard for this place, and they share it more generously than we deserve. They give this Mama Bear a much needed break from the daily grind of bear cub raising by entertaining the grand-bear cubs as well as myself. My Mother Bear kills the proverbial fatted calf so that we don't have to worry about meal planning. Word is, she'll have the place stocked with home made blackberry jelly and peach preserves when we arrive. They even drove our family pet ahead with them so that we didn't have to board him while we are gone. Am I one lucky Mama Bear, or what?

So, come sundown tonight I will be in my natural habitat. I might be enjoying a good read on a swing, or re-hearing a great old story from My Daddy Bear, or maybe (if I'm lucky) winning a game of chicken foot. But you can rest assured - whatever I'm doing - I'll sure as heck be enjoying myself.

Final list...I think!

We leave in the morning, and I should be packing. Instead, I'm putting together my awesome reading list from your suggestions. Here's what I plan to read on my vacation:

• The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde - Recommended by not one, not two, but THREE loyal Cyber Bears: Bear Cousins Emily & Geoff and Dear Bear Friend (and rockin' research librarian as well) Hillary.
• The Condition by Jennifer Haighl - Recommended by Bear Cousin Emily.
• Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout - NOT recommended by Bear Cousin Emily, but I'm going to try it anyway!

There are several other good choices, but they weren't on Kindle (and I ran out of time to get to the Library). I'll read those when I return.

Thanks for playing along. Be looking for a new post early tomorrow a.m!

Unnerved

If you don't already know, you'll learn soon enough: I love National Public Radio. Love it.

So, I'm listening to the Diane Rehm Show the other day (which, coincidentally, is my least favorite NPR show) and she announced to the audience that if they couldn't get in via phone, to remember that she is on both Facebook and Twitter.

Is anyone else besides me a little unnerved that Diane Rehm is on Facebook and Twitter?

I'm just saying.

On another note, how are you Cyber Bears doing on my summer reading list? Remember, you only have until TOMORROW NIGHT!! I won't have anything to read without your help!