Top of the List

A conversation between Brother Bear and his female carpool cub (thanks to the other Mama Bear for relating the story) :

Female Cub: Brother bear, I want to marry you.

Other Mama Bear: Well, two people have to agree...one day...after college...after you have a job...a long time from now. You have plenty of time to decide.

Brother Bear: Well, I also have a lot of girl cubs to decide from. Another female cub keeps saying she wants to marry me too. But Female Carpool Cub, is definitely at the top of my list.

Female Cub: What does "top of your list" mean?

Brother Bear: It means I like you the best, so it's possible that I might marry you.

Female Cub: Oh, ok. I'll marry you Brother Bear, if I don't have anyone else I want to marry too.

Brother Bear: But, Female Carpool Cub, you know (whispers) you have to kiss!

Female Cub: Oh, Brother Bear, that's ok. We'll be grown ups by then and we won't mind.

Brother Bear: But, ewwwwwwww!!!

Tis the Season!

YIPEE!!! It's on the shelves again!

Little things, Cyber Bears. It's the little things....

(Oh, in case you were wondering, I in no way shape form or fashion was paid for this plug. In fact, I myself paid $2.99 for this post. Just keeping it honest.)

Hypothetically speaking..

I have a funny story for you. A hypothetical one of course!

Imagine if you will a harried Mama Bear on a busy Monday morning. In her normal fashion, she brilliantly scheduled her bear cub's appointment with a very-important-doctor-bear for 8 a.m. Downtown. (In her defense, she was worried about her bear cub missing something important in - get this - kindergarten). Additionally, Papa Bear had come down with a raging case of what they thought would soon be gonna-go-blind-itis and needed her to take him to an emergency eye doctor appointment later that morning.

The family scurried downtown and actually arrived 10 minutes early in order to meet with the very-important-doctor-bear. Everyone was on their best behavior for the first 45 - 50 minutes of the wait. Then, of course, things started to go south which coincided nicely with the arrival of the very-important-doctor-bear. Things only got worse when the very-important-doctor-bear delivered some less than optimum news. The Mama Bear attempted to stay strong but now had an angry, sad, bear cub on her hands.

The Mama Bear did her best to console her bear cub all the while trying to hurry him back to school so that she could take her betrothed to the doctor on time. With said bear cub back at school, she rushed home to retrieve her now nearly blind and incapacitated Papa Bear. They hopped back in the family vehicle and with little time to spare, were off to the next appointment.

In her hurry to get to the next appointment, the Mama Bear did a very poor parking job. But fearing that her spouse could lose his eyesight at any moment, she felt that there just wasn't enough time to correct matter. Thus, she left her car parked dangerously close to the one next to her and squeezed herself out as quickly as possible and rushed to the doctor.

(Now is a good time to insert some helpful information about this hypothetical Mama Bear. She's been trying very hard to reduce her post bear cubs fluff and has recently met with relative success. Not enough success to make her fit into her old sizes, but enough to give her just a wee bit of confidence that she someday could.)

Fast forward 30 minutes or so. Mama Bear, Papa Bear and the youngest cub return from appointment all relieved that Papa Bear will not lose his eyesight. Delirious with relief (and confident with her recent reduction in fluff) she eyes her previous parking job and assures herself that she and her bear cub can return to the vehicle as easily as they exited it. Why? Well, because she's confident, and her new ride has automatic sliding doors! That's why!

This Mama Bear gingerly squeezes herself and her cub in between the two vehicles. She contorts her body in order to buckle the cub into the car seat. At this point she simultaneously closes the electronic sliding passenger door and tries to enter the driver's door. Why? Well, because she's a multi-tasker, and because she thinks she can! That's why!

Shortly there after, the Mama Bear realizes that the electronic sliding passenger door is quickly coming closed on the, uh, right half of her, ummm, derriere. Panic sets in. Having never tested the "safety open feature", she fears the worst. She is certain that she is about to get half her fluffy fanny stuck in her vehicle door. Visions of a 9-1-1 call, fire trucks and giggling paramedics enter her head. Sweating profusely and near fainting, she shuts her eyes and squeals a prayer that the safety feature does indeed work as it was advertised.

Then what can only be described as as a miracle occurs and the door begins loudly beeping and starts its slow descent off of her derriere. The Mama Bear was safe. She looked up to see that no one (save her spouse and her bear cub) witnessed the event. Despite ribbing from the ever so funny Papa Bear, she would live to see another day.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Hypothetically, of course.

Creative genius?

Please, please, please tell me that the desks of DaVinci, Einstein, and Bill Gates looked like this when they were six years old:

It's creative genius, right? RIGHT?????

Love your neigh-bear

When Moses descended from the mountain with a list of heaven sent commandments, the list just happened to include "love your neighbor as yourself". When Jesus was asked what is the greatest commandment, he gave two: love God, and love your neighbor.

For some of us this is easier said than done. However, I happen to be one very lucky Mama Bear who finds it very easy to love my actual neigh-bears. And I'm not tooting my own horn here. Because I have nothing to do with why it is so easy. It's all about my real life neigh-bears.

Let me explain.

Our Den is located on the corner of a lovely little street. Within walking distance, there are 7 families with pre-school aged bear cubs. Each family is different and unique, however we all share the same common bond of pre-school bear cubs. We've come to know and welcome each other as the years and bear cubs have grown. When the weather is nice, we're known to have impromptu yard events (optional for the kids: bathing suits, optional for the Mama Bears: wine). You can often see us on any given day shuttling bear cubs from one house to another for play dates, quick errands, or to simply give another Mama Bear a break. When a new bear cub arrives we celebrate in fashion. In fact, we don't really turn down a reason to celebrate at all!

It's becoming easier to understand why loving my neigh-bear is easy, huh?

With the arrival of both "school" and fall, it was decided that it was time to celebrate. A Ladies only (with one pint-sized exception!) luncheon this time.

As I mentioned earlier, we are each unique women. We all have our own talents, and bring our own skills to the proverbial table. (side note: I'm still trying to figure out what my particular talent/skill is..but that's another post) The two fabulous ladies that hosted this event are amazingly talented women in many areas (mothering, decorating, being neigh-bear-ly). But one area where they excel light years beyond my skill level or imagination is a party like this. Seriously. Think: Martha Stewart only prettier, nicer, and their children adore them.

So, today those of us who were able circled around a beautiful table and delectable food to celebrate. Celebrate what, you ask? Well, for starters, we celebrated the start of fall and an opportunity to get together over Mama Bear food, and Mama Bear drink and not have to share it (or listen to anyone complain about it!).

But more importantly for me, it was an opportunity of gratitude. I celebrated that of all the streets, in all the world, we all landed here, together. I celebrated the conversation: that it was fun and relaxed, not uncomfortable and forced. I celebrated the laughter that always comes when we are together. I celebrated that we are diverse in our lives and parenting, but we each love our bear cubs as fiercely as the other. I celebrated that there are women with whom I can share my children just as easily as I can a recipe. For that, I am eternally grateful.

I am not a perfect bear, and I may have challenges with the other commandments laid before me. But I guarantee with neigh-bears like this, loving them just comes naturally.

We entered to this. I told you - Martha Stewart! I'm so stealing this for Thanksgiving...

Just a little beverage to start..

Appetizers. There was egg, artichoke, and cheese. (supposedly, they were easy...)

A toast to our stage in life!

Love.

Soup: butternut squash goodness

Salad: orzo, feta delight

Dessert: sin on a plate. (I'm fairly certain I broke a commandment or two eating this...)

Pick your battles

We learned early on with Brother Bear that we had to "pick our battles." As he's a very strong willed bear cub we found that if we didn't pick our battles, life would be nothing but battles.

And that's just no fun for anyone is it?

Yet again this morning, we were forced to pick our battle. It was either be dressed smartly and handsomely for church, or have some sort of clothing on our furry body and be on time to church.

You'll never guess which option we chose....

I Went to the Animal Fair

Well, we survived our annual "jaunt" to the fair, and I lived to blog about it.

Have I mentioned I am not particularly fond of the fair?

Okay. That's not being fair. ahem. I like the local, quaint, manageable fairs. It's the fair-on-steroids that I don't like. You know what, it's not the fair itself that I don't like. It's the pandemonium, sensory and gastronomic overload, bleeding money, tear invoking, diaper soaking, coupon buying, aching feet, oh-my-god-where-is-my-child-now part that I really don't like.

I shouldn't complain. The kids had a blast. A policeman gave us free tickets, the rain never came, and I found $20 on the midway (after I tried to return it first).

But, alas, I just don't like the Fair-On-Steroids that we attend. Papa Bear has banned me (and my bad attitude) from next year's festivities.

Now, that's just not fair....

Here are a few memories:

inducting Sugar Bear to fair eatin'

lunch

driving the old beater

Spinnin'

My lil' dare-devil bear

Papa Bear's snack (a.k.a. Fried Oreos) - he said, "it tastes like an oreo wrapped in a donut"

Fishing - where "everyone is a winner"...

Our fishing prize....until they took it away. Although "everyone is a winner," everyone can't win everything...

Ahh...gun time!

Holding off the rain gods

A hello on steroids

waving in the wind

Dessert. What can I say. I'm a purist at heart. (I only ate HALF of it...)

kickin' the tires (of a Corvette)

trying to escape via the parked minivan on display (I'm right behind ya Sugar Bear!)

EVERYTHING is bigger at the fair...

Personal Trainer

I have the sweatsuit and the root beer belly. Now, can someone please recommend a personal trainer? Pilates? Step Aerobics? Help a bear cub out!

Misunderstood

Warning: if you are eating lunch, please do not read this post. You have been warned.

Also: this post is probably one of those posts that will land me in therapy with Brother Bear later in life...

The other day Brother Bear asked me why it necessary to wipe our bottoms.

Gulp.

Well, I tried to kindly explain to him that it is sanitary, that it keeps us clean, etc., etc., etc. Unfortunately, this did not answer Brother Bear's real question. It seems that what he really wanted to know was what happens in the process that then makes wiping our bottoms necessary.

Double gulp.

I tried my best to explain this topic on my own (although I did seriously consider a quick call to my Biology Professor Big Sister Bear). I soon realized that I would be unable to solely communicate this answer without the use of a visual aid of some sort.

So, the next words out of my mouth were, "Here, let me show you." With those (what seemed like) simple 5 words, I created extreme family pandemonium.

Apparently, I was the only bear in the den that knew I needn't drop my drawers in order to "show" the visual aid.

I am so misunderstood.

Red light, Green Light

One of the highlights (or low lights, depending on the bear cub) for all kindergarten bears is the school behavior/conduct system. Brother Bear is enthralled with it.

The system is based off of the traffic light system: green = good; yellow = warning; orange = time out; red = visit to the principal & call to parents. (Yes, I know that most traffic lights don't have orange. The school system, unlike the police, offers a little grace) Each bear cub has a clothespin with their name on it. Every day, they begin with their personal "clip" on green. Then, depending on their behavior, the clip moves accordingly. The final color is reported to the Mama and Papa Bears in the bear cub's Daily Folder. (BTW, have you noticed that The Department of Homeland Security's Threat Level is eerily similar? Just an observation....)

Did I mention that Brother Bear is enthralled with this system? Each day, we have to report not only our own behavior but the behavior of all of our peers. He is also very concerned with keeping his clip on green. Which means he's concerned about behaving appropriately. OH. MY. GOSH. WHY DIDN'T I HAVE THIS SYSTEM THREE YEARS AGO?? If I had know that this simple program would make my child a law abiding bear-citizen, I SO would have implemented it years ago!!

Fortunately for me, my industrious bear cub was kind enough to create one of these handy-dandy clip systems for our household. How kind. Here's a look at his creation:

He gets an "A" for effort at least!?!

Well. It seems that this household clip chart was not created to oversee the behavior of our eldest bear cub. Instead, this clip chart was created to keep track of Mama and Papa Bear and all injustices poured out upon Brother Bear. For example: having the audacity to serve him round pizza (read: homemade english muffin pizzas) instead of triangular pizza (read: bought at the pizza shop pizza) warranted me a clip move to Yellow. Whoops. Who would have known?

So, the other night, Papa Bear was putting Brother Bear to bed and was having a more-difficult-than-normal-time getting Brother Bear to pick up and put away his toys. After multiple threats, Papa Bear finally had to revoke privileges. Oh lordy. The weeping and nashing of teeth that ensued was monumental. Then, Brother Bear marched to the "clip system" and proceeded to communicate in no uncertain terms that Papa Bear's clip was moving to RED! Let's just say that Papa Bear wasn't fazed by the clip move.

After the skirmish was over, Papa Bear came into the room and I mockingly said, "Ooooh, you got moved to RED. I've never gotten a RED before." Do you know what Papa Bear's response was?

He said, "Hey, I'm an overachiever, baby!"

Overachiever indeed!

Oh. And, in case you are wondering, after that last "clip incident", the home clip chart has "mysteriously" disappeared....

Six

Happy 6th Birthday, Brother Bear!

Six years ago, I couldn't imagine life with you

Now I can't imagine it without you!

You may not be my only

but you'll always be my first.

I love the zest you have for life

(even if it wears me out sometimes).

Your curiosity is amazing

and your confidence is overwhelming.

I sometimes wonder if I'm up for the tall order

of being your Mama Bear.

I love your "huggles"

I treasure how you find that perfect cuddle when we read a book.

I'm thankful for every day we've spent together

(even when they were spent in time out).

You are a shining star

Shine on Brother Bear,

SHINE ON!

Line in the sand?

I just read this article in Newsweek Magazine (Kindle Subscription, of course!). It got me to thinking...

Where is my line in the sand with this blog? I started this blog as a way to further communicate the funny stories and life I experience in my daily life as a stay-at-home-Mama Bear. But in the process, I am sharing potentially embarrassing stories of Brother Bear and Sugar Bear without their permission. Is this wrong?

As you noticed right away, everyone involved in the blog has a bear-able pseudonym (har har har). My attempt at humor AND privacy. You'll also notice that the few pictures of my bear cubs never include a full view, or their eyes. I just couldn't face the idea of some weird-o happening upon my blog and oogling my children. So, I did make some choices in advance regarding what I would and would not share with you cyber bears.

But how far is too far? What story is too much? I have my own ideas, but I'd love to hear YOURS.

So, Cyber Bears, in this age of technology and blogging, what is your "line in the sand" regarding children and blogging? How much is too much? How do I have a blog, and avoid millions of dollars in therapy sessions with my bear cubs later?

I really want to know.

Catch a Tiger by the Tail

What do you do when Papa Bear says (one too many times) that Sugar Bear is growing a mullet and needs a haircut?

You catch that mullet by the pig-tail....

Crash Landing on Planet Mom

Busy as a bee! That has been me this week! Today we kick-off our fall semester of MOPS and I'll be co-leading the group this year. I'm thrilled to be on a team with such great mama bears that are as passionate as I am about ministering to other mama bears.

Because I've been so busy (and that last post wore me out!), I've neglected the cyber den. I hope you'll forgive me!

Below is a piece I wrote for our MOPS newsletter. I wanted you Cyber Bears to get a peek into why I love this organization with such an awful name. Oh, and for those of you don't know, the MOPS International Theme this year is Life on Planet Mom (this will help explain my writing below!).

And if you just happen to be (or happen to know) a mama bear out there that feels right now how I felt back then - please, please, please find a MOPS group. I guarantee you'll be glad you did.

Crash Landing on Planet Mom...

A little under 6 years ago, I “crash landed” on Planet Mom when my first child was born. Literally, “crash landed.” Nothing went right. The birth and subsequent first weeks of motherhood were not at all what I had planned.

Then I changed my plan and didn’t go back to work. My closest friend either hadn’t yet had children, or went back to work. I very quickly found myself alone with no earthly idea what to do. I felt like I was on a whole other planet.

I decided to visit a MOPS meeting. I was so clueless, that when it was time to split up for discussion time, I thought the meeting was over. I went to get my child and didn’t realize my mistake until I was in the parking lot!

But what I did attend of that meeting was fantastic. I found a community of women who knew what I was going through and loved me for the crazy alien woman I had become. I made instant friends, and had a support network that I could always trust whether it was a family crisis or the birth of my second child.

It has now become my mission to make other moms feel welcome, included, and comfortable with their role as a mother – even if they don’t do it just like me.

I hope that this year, you get the opportunity to see how YOU are an integral part of Planet Mom. I hope that in our meetings you truly feel our theme verse: “For where two or three come together…there I am with them” (Matthew 18:20).

We are here. He is here.

Welcome.