Endangered Species

Does this look like an animal on the Endangered Species list? Does he look repentant at all? Does he look like he feels bad? Maybe a little guilty for having a diarrhea-fest all over our living room - not once, not twice, but on THREE DIFFERENT occasions (months & weeks apart)? Do you think he's remorseful at all over the fact that we are forced to get a new area rug? Do you think he's a little embarrassed that after a $150 vet visit all the vet could diagnose was, "I think he just ate something bad..." Huh? Does he?

I didn't think so either.

This dog doesn't know how good he's got it.

Conversations you never thought you'd have...

Those of us that are Mama and Papa Bears know it when it happens. That moment when something comes out of your mouth and then you think one of two things:

1. "Oh my God, I just became my Mother (Papa) Bear!!"

or

2. "Did I just actually have this conversation???"

You know you've been there.

(Warning, the rest of this post involves toilet talk. Feel free to walk away now. I warned you.)

Recently, I was dealing with Brother Bear's laundry. Did you know that this kid is big enough to have his own load of laundry now? There's another whole post where I weep about that. But for now, let's get back to laundry.

As I'm sorting the laundry, I notice a pair of skivvies that, well, have some remnants. (I WARNED YOU... LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DIDN'T BELIEVE ME BEFORE!) I'm not talking about your garden variety skid marks Cyberbears. I'm talking leftovers. I'm talking throw-them-in-the-trash-not-enough-oxi-clean-in-this-world kinda leftovers.

Now, I may or may not have been going on week 2 of Papa Bear traveling for work. And I may, or may not have been in a mood. But this is the conversation that followed my discovery:

Mama Bear: BROTHER BEAR!! THIS IS DISGUSTING!!! DID YOU EVEN TRY TO WIPE?

Brother Bear: {begins whistling and rolling his eyes like he doesn't know what I'm talking about - it's his new shtick. grrrr.}

Mama Bear: Seriously, Brother Bear, did you wipe your bottom when you finished? Because, from what I'm seeing, it certainly doesn't look like it!

Brother Bear: Well, the class was going to leave me, Mama Bear!

Mama Bear: What?

Brother Bear: The class was all finished, and they were going to go back to class....without me!

Mama Bear: Brother Bear, they were headed back to the classroom. And your classroom is 20 feet from the bathroom. Would it really have been that bad to take the extra 30 seconds to wipe?

Brother Bear: Well, no... But I was afraid I was going to clog up the toilet!!

Mama Bear: Brother Bear, if my options are: you are going to clog the toilet, OR you are going to come home with another pair of skivvies looking like this, know that my preferred option is for you to CLOG THE TOILET. No matter WHAT it takes, clean your derriere cub!

And, that, my Cyberbears, is a perfect example of conversations you never thought you'd have.

You are welcome.

Values

I shall overlook the fact that basic sustenance was at the BOTTOM of the list. Why?

Because, according to Brother Bear, his family is more valuable that the Wii. That's right, Cyberbears, MAMA BEAR TRUMPS THE Wii! Uh uh! Oh yeah! I'm the winner! Uh huh! (imagine me doing the victory dance)

Clearly we are teaching this cub well. Expect my parenting book sometime in Summer of 2012.

Fashionist-ahhh Friday!

A new - perhaps, regular? (gulp) - installment here at the Den (part of my Spring Cleaning attempt):

Fashionist-ahhh Friday!

This all stems from Sugar Bears newest obsession. You see, Sugar Bear is 2.5 going on 15. She wants to do everything herself, including selecting her wardrobe and dressing herself. This is new to me (for this age). Brother Bear didn't give a lick what went on his body. Come to think of it, he generally preferred to just be nekkid. All the time. And when he was forced to be clothed, he didn't have an opinion about it until about a year ago. Sigh. Those were the days.

So, Sugar Bear has started choosing her outfits herself. ALL. BY. HERSELF. I am not allowed near the vicinity unless my help is required and (more importantly) requested. It seems Sugar Bear is a bit of a Fashionista. She loves her some clothes. And accessories. And shoes. And hats. Literally, anything she can put on her body, she does. The control freak in me is fighting desperately with the hippie in me. The hippie is winning. Seriously, I would prefer the cub be able to fully dress herself before the age of 3 than have a well coordinated outfit every day. (Remember, I dressed the other cub until he was almost 6. Been there, done that!)

I began taking pictures recently and sending them to my parents. I decided it my be fun to let you Cyberbears in on the action. Thus, the birth of "Fashionist-ahhh Fridays." I'm hoping to post the pictures of Sugar Bear's outfits for the week each Friday.

Who knows, she might even start a trend in the under five crowd that makes me her a millionaire! (silly bandz anyone?).

Hope you enjoy!

Accessories are the key here. Notice unique use of "bracelet" as arm accessory. Necklace is handmade, one of kind. And, of course, a girl cub can't go anywhere without a good pair of sparkly shoes.

Who knew pink, red, and orange went together so well. What a fashion trailblazer! (Note, the turtleneck was NOT her choice. It was Mama Bear's weather related demand.)

This one shows real fashion skills (and yes, we did leave the house this day!). The layering is unique and the mixing of sumer and winter is, well, breathtaking. The Hello Kitty house shoes and plaid hat? Just plain genius.

Again, note the layering and mixing of seasons. I see a real trend coming with this look.

Come back next week for more fun and fabulous fashion!

Money, Money, Money!

Do you sometimes feel like a slave to money? Today on Facebook, I'm talking about money, and debt. Interested in what I have to say? Just click here to read more.

Oh, and if you're interested in back Facebook Blogs I didn't post here on the Den. I'll fill you in:

February 17th - Instrumental

February 24th - Succeeding to Fail

March 17th - Coasting

March 24th - Villagers

Happy Reading!

April Showers bring, uh, blogging?

April? It's April? What the heck happened to March? And, most of February too?!

I recently received several emails questioning my whereabouts on the blog. They might have gone something like this:

"Did you forget how to turn on your computer?"

"Did you move your blog?"

"Blog much?"

Ahem.

Might I suggest some alternate options:

A. Head injury from sledding accident with Brother Bear

B. Hibernation (I am a bear, after all)

C. I gave up blogging for Lent (just because I'm Baptist, doesn't mean I don't participate)

D. I lost my mo-jo for a while, then got sucked away by real life. Then I became completely overwhelmed with the constant, nagging monster in my life named "Failure" (who, by the way, hovers over me ready to pounce at any sign of weakness). Apparently "Failure" told me several things which I believed. Then I kicked "Failure" in his sensitive places and had the courage to sign in again.

Which is more believable to you? Feel free to postulate in the comments section.

Glad to be back. I think. I'm going to do a little "spring cleaning" around the den. Maybe mix it up a bit. I hope those of you who are still around will join me. Because, although I admit to a major crush on Neil Patrick Harris way back when (no judging, please), this isn't a Doogie Howser type journal. I'm looking for interaction here, conversation, opinions, thoughts, feelings.

Suggestions welcome as I go.

Failure not invited.

Finding Time

Today on Facebook, I am talking about finding time to be still. Do you struggle with this too? I would love your thoughts and suggestions. Click here to read more.

A picture says a thousand words

I would love to say that this picture comes from one of those hilarious websites. But, alas, this is a picture of yours truly seconds before she landed ON TOP OF Brother Bear. He was not amused. I, on the other hand, almost wet my pants laughing.

It seems as if I have a few things to learn about physics. Because Mama Bear's law of "if you get enough momentum in your shove, they'll go faster" is more like the law of "if you get too much shove in your shove, you'll push the cub right off the sled."

Sigh.

So, like the title of this post says, "A picture says a thousand words." If you were to put a caption on this picture - what would it say? Put your answers in the comments section. (Feel free to be anonymous!)

Work Ethic

It doesn't break any Child Labor Laws if they ask to do it

RIGHT?

Career Counseling

I'm going to have to break it to Brother Bear. It just doesn't look like nail technician is in his future:

What can I say? Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Portraiture

Today on Facebook, I'm painting a portrait. Click here to read more...

Whatcha doin?

Me? Not much. Just trying to survive day 3 of being home-bound with 2 cubs.

(Please excuse Brother Bear's bed-head. I assure you he combed his hair this morning. Because I would never, ever let him go the whole day without combing his hair. Ahem.)

(Ahhh. The organization. A few more days at home and I may use that tent to camp out SOMEWHERE ELSE.)

And you? What have you been up to?

Organization Skills

About the time I think I have it all together in the organization department (thus becoming all haughty and such) God gives me this laugh:

It seems that Sugar Bear has a new organization system in place for her bows. Keeps 'em fresh, I guess?

Sleepless in...

Well, you know.

Last night I was beyond exhausted. Like, to the point of trying to have a conversation with Papa Bear and he said, "why don't you go ahead and go to bed, sweetie, because you are falling asleep sitting up." And, it's not because he was talking about a new product pricing budgeting thingy at work. Not at all.

So I took him up on the offer and cuddled into bed at 9:00 p.m. I was deliriously hopeful about all the wonderful hours of sleep that were about to occur.

I think it is important right about now to explain how much I love sleep. I love sleep. My picture of heaven used to be a mansion with butlers and maids and all-you-can-eat-buffets of my Mother Bear's food and a skinnier, prettier, version of myself bouncing around in wings. My picture of heaven now? The world's comfiest, warmest bed, and hours and hours of endless, uninterrupted sleep. I love sleep so much that I've warned Papa Bear that - for now - our vacations do not need to be fancy places with lots of sightseeing. Because my ideal vacation is catching up on my zzz's.

Has my love for sleep been made clear to you yet?

Like I was saying, I bundled into bed at 9:00 p.m. with my book, ready for visions of sugarplums to start dancing. At 9:24 p.m. I turned out the lights as, apparently, I had fallen asleep whilst reading my book.

And here is an honest timeline of the rest of the evening's events (all times approximate as I wasn't really focused on remembering the exact times):

10:05 p.m. - Awakened to the sound of a sneezing fit from Papa Bear. It seems that there was an incident with the tweezers and a particularly stubborn nose hair that caused a riot of sneezing to ensue. When I realized that I was not going to be attacked by the world's largest allergen, I rolled over pulled the covers up, and prepared to return to slumberland.

10:10 p.m. - Papa Bear crawls in bed and gets settled with the daintiness of an elephant. I release giant "sigh of frustration" to make my point without words, yank the covers and roll over.

2:38 a.m. - Sugar Bear is coughing and crying. Try desperately to figure out where I am and who is making that god-forsaken noise. Before I can figure these things out, Papa Bear gets up and heads to the rescue of Sugar Bear.

2:40 a.m. - Realize that Sugar Bear and Papa Bear are in kitchen and she is wailing for me. Extricate myself from bed and stumble to kitchen. Relieve Papa Bear, give Sugar Bear some cough syrup and return to her room. Cuddle up in rocking chair and soothe Sugar Bear back to sleep.

2:50 a.m. - Return Sugar Bear to crib and tip-toe back to room and glorious, glorious bed.

2:55 a.m. - Sugar Bear and Papa Bear both now fast asleep. I, on the other hand, am staring at the ceiling trying my darn-dest to go back to sleep.

3:30 a.m. - Still awake. Have decided to put time to good use and try to tackle the world's problems.

3:31 a.m. - Unable to solve the problems of world hunger and global warming, resort to counting backwards from 100. Multiple times.

5:06 a.m. - Awaken to the sound of phone ringing. Panic ensues in attempt to locate and annihilate annoying ringing.

5:06:30 a.m. - Voicemail picks up to a delightful message from a waaay-too-friendly-at-this-time-of-morning-voice from the school district telling us that school has been cancelled. Woo Hoo! MORE TIME TO SLEEP!

5:32 a.m. - Sugar Bear is awake and crying. Try to soothe her back to sleep. Am unsuccessful. Opt for the "quickest way back to sleep" method and bring her into our bed.

5:33 a.m. - Sugar Bear returns to sleep. I, however, remain in a state of semi-conciousness in an attempt to sleep and protect myself from flying limbs.

5:45 a.m. - Papa Bear's phone rings. Might possibly have let loose a string of unkind words in an effort to hasten Papa Bear out of the bed to shut off his phone.

6:00 a.m. - Home phone rings. This time, it is a message from the school principal. Telling us the same exact thing the district told us. An hour ago.

6:03 a.m. - Start to hear an abnormal, but very loud, sound. Sounds vaguely like my neighbor's cubs playing basketball - but from the other direction. Try desperately to figure out why they would be playing basketball so early (they usually wait until 7 a.m.). Discern that sound is not basketball-playing-cubs (thus, saving the lives of 3 boy cubs), but begin to think that a robber in tap shoes is galloping down my hallway. Realize that robber theory is a bit far-fetched. Decide that sound is clearly in the attic. And is uniquely tied to the rhythms of the HVAC unit. The relatively new HVAC unit, might I add.

6:06 a.m. - Make mental note to call HVAC repairman. As soon as I get some proper shut eye, that is.

6:12 a.m. - Am squeezing my eyes shut in attempt to will myself to sleep. Feel gentle tapping on shoulder by Papa Bear. He then gently asks if I intend to join him for our morning circuit workout (as, it is almost our 6:15 start time). I proceed to tell him where he can shove Jillian Michaels this morning and pull the covers over my head.

6:20 a.m. - Put pillow over head in attempt to mask what sounds like 2 WWE wrestlers going at it in my attic. Attempt fails miserably.

6:30 a.m. - Sugar Bear hops on top of me, smiles her best smile, and says, "get UP mama. lez go get some bress-fiss." Succumb to her cuteness and get up. Meet Brother Bear at the door.

6:31 a.m. - Realize that it is going to be a very long day.

Now, do you see why I dream about sleep?

Oh, and the noise in my attic? No longer happening. I asked Papa Bear why it wasn't making noise anymore. His response?

"Because you are awake now."

Touche, Papa Bear. Touche.