Life with Bebo the Great

He is fabulous....really he is.
Cute, silly, loving, innocent, genuine.
Yes, all of those, to the 27th power. His smile and giggle can bring you from grumpy to grand in 2 seconds flat.
So why is it that raising him, has pushed me past my very limits and then added another shove just to make a point?!
It's not for lack of love that I struggle. I know the problem is me, but how to fix it, I have not figured out.....
He begins the day on "High Frequency" at 6:15am. EVERY morning! (Now, of course, there is the occasional holiday in which we are given the gift of 7am....but that is only a rarely seen treasure.)
Hardly ever does he wake in a sour mood. He is usually silly and happy and fun and loud and happy and silly and AWAKE right from the get go! So this is how my morning began this morning and most mornings and I suppose nothing would be wrong with that if the rest of the family also were that joyful and ready for loud, loud, loudness right out of the gate.
So why do I find myself typing about Bryson during my only time to myself for the past month? I have quiet time while my parents (angels that they are) escorted all three of my darlings to the movies.....and here I am venting.
I just HAD too!
I know that I'm not alone and, in fact, my situation is probably excruciatingly easier than some. I know that my life is good when compared to the hell that some live. But, WOWIE, does my personality LONG for peace and quiet....oh the beauty of uninterrupted silence. Just a little bit more than what I have now. Right?! Now THAT would make things better.
To just bask in my own personal space for a couple hours each morning would be bliss and then I would feel prepared and willing to give love out to the children I have been blessed with.....

But I know myself better than that.

I know that if I had that, that peace and alone time, then I would find some minuscule new hassle that was bothering me, irritating me, threatening my "calm and quiet". I would want to pin point a new scab that needed picking.
The quiet time would become too much, the peace would be deafening and then loneliness would creep up soon after.
What does one do with so much quiet time? Who out there is thinking of me while I am basking in the aloneness of alone time? Not to mention the excess sleep would no doubt cause a growth in either waist or butt. Laziness that I have fought against for years would possibly be a little bit more convincing in it's arguments if I had no reason to get out of bed so expediently each and every morning and 6:15ish a.m.

Life would indeed be MUCH less worth living....

So what does one do when faced with "Bebo the Great" invading one's personal bubble of happiness? When my personality longs to read and think and write and listen to beautiful works of music and relish in relationships that challenge my intellect and conversation skills....what do I do when sweet, long-lashed Bebo comes bounding onto the bed and rips me from the warmth of night's sleep? How does sanity stay with me when he just won't sit still and keeps hopping, jumping, bothering, wiggling, and bugging his siblings? When he is not "defying" me but is simply just "annoying" me, what do I do?

I must love.
and love.
and love again.

And when I have no more love to give, I shed a tear and ask God to please....please...give me just a bit more for today. God help me make it through this next meal, this next jumping attack, this next moment of hyperness that creeps up out of nowhere. God help me to know what's best in every situation so as not to crush his spirit, but indeed correct his actions!

Because Bryson is, inherently, a good boy.
He tries so very hard to please his parents!
He tries to remember the rules but forgets them 2 seconds later and then must accept the consequence.
Bebo has a good heart and I do not want to be the one to squash that little heart just because he is ever.SO.exhausting most days.
This to shall pass....and until it does....
I will find joy in the small things.

*His stories which he tells with all the proper voice inflections, so that it draws you into his world of alligators and forests and spiders that bite the toes of little boys.
*His polite correction that he offers to me when I did indeed give him a kiss before bed but not a hug as well.
*How he rubs his mattress while falling asleep and has, ever since before he expressed himself with words.
*When he turns down another scoop of ice cream because he can't have too much sugar, he states, "it makes him crazy".
*And how, when I have reached my very limit and my head can't take anymore loud silliness and in-my-face fun, he obediently completes the task of running around the outside of the house 4 times to "get rid of some energy!". =D
He is a good boy and I just need to keep my cool, accept encouragement when it is offered and never, never, never stop loving him.
(But correcting him is definitely in the cards DAILY!) =D O.M.G.

Enduring the fire.

Fire.
Useful, painful, dangerous, life-threatening, life giving.
A refiner's fire. Useful.
Heating the precious metals until all imperfections and impurities rise to the surface for all to see. Bubbling there unable to stay hidden.
If left, they will continue to choke out the beauty that is awaiting inside the liquid gold.
Being a parent is the equivalent to being thrown into a refiner's fire.....day after day after every single day.
Behaviors that I never would have imagined, were lurking down in the deep, darkness of my soul.
They begin to bubble up when put to the test of parenting.
Selfishness, greed, impatience. The list seems to never end.
When provoked with "Mom....Mom?....MOM!!?!!?!" even Mother Theresa herself might allow a sigh to escape her lips. With a glance of annoyance she would utter, "Masses of poor, cold and hungry children....might you give Mother just a moments peace?! For the sake of all that is Holy?!"
Parenthood is a great and powerful tool. It has the ability to transform multiple souls. Continually.... Day after day after every single day.
I am not the woman I was 13 years ago, not the woman I was last month, not the woman I was yesterday.
I will choose to protect the hearts of those that I have been given. Protect them from evil that may creep in, protect them from harsh words spoken, protect them from myself and everyday anger and frustration.
I WILL NOT let myself go. I desire to hold myself to a higher standard. I will give of myself with every breath. Life is not meant to be horded up like the last piece of birthday cake that you do not wish to share.
It is meant to be poured out for others breath by breath.
Just like the mother that everyone dreams about....always ready with a plateful of warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies and a listening ear. A safe haven to come to. Curl up and enjoy home.
Just like sitting on the lap of Jesus.
Accepted for who you are. Never a harsh word spoken. No condemnation. Grace oozing out every pore.
I wish to be refined day after day after everyday.
Thank you God that I am a mom.
Transformed.

Super Human Strength: I've got it!

My hopes were nearly dashed this weekend by a foe I had yet to meet. He crept up when I least expected any adversity to be standing in my way, and he was not one of the usual suspects. I am quite used to "a spill on the shirt as you are walking out the door" and "overdue fines at the library". We have met each other often. My new little friend, however, waltzed into my life when I was leaving to go to a fondue lunch at our friends' home....and this annoyance absolutely made my day in the end.
I was so excited because I had never used my happy little fondue set that I have owned for...well, to not make me sound like the horrible procrastinator that I am, let's just say a while. So while preparing for her maiden voyage I had me some excitement threatening to spill out my nostrils. I really was happy for the opportunity to dip the bread in the cheese using my very own fondue set. So I pulled all the pieces out and oh the horror....two of my matching fondue-holder-cup-things (using their official scientific name) were stuck together.
Now when I say stuck together, I am using too mild of a term for what they were doing. They were locked in a passionate embrace as if one had been at war for the past 3 years. They, for all intensive purposes, had almost, somehow become physically fused together. Of course me being the independent, prideful woman that I am, I wanted to take care of this on my own accord. I put on my sassy-pants and pulled....then tugged...then jerked....then while breaking a sweat, pulled again. I have never been strong physically. My hands, as Jason knows well, are puny when it comes to opening jars and the likes but in this case I was giving it everything down to my toes!
Taylor, after enjoying the show for 5 minutes thus far, suggests we use soap because as she learned in 6th grade science this year, "soap makes water wetter". Light bulb! Science is indeed helpful in everyday life yet again. Grabbing my trusty antibacterial liquid goo, I slather and slide my fingers all over the bowls and wiggle and tap and turn....and NOTHING! FOR THE LOVE! I really do like this fondue set and it is so fabulous with 6 matching bowls of festiveness and I would like to emerge out of this match with all 6 still intact!!!
My lightening fast brain soon meanders to the idea that if we could wedge something sharp and unsafe in between the 2 bowls we might have a fighting chance to break this seal of eternity that has taken a hold of my day. Insert sharp instrument....literally.
No go.
Nothin' doing.
Why?! Why!!!
Is this punishment for my tendency to procrastinate? Is there a life lesson that I am supposed to get out of this now 10 minutes of science vs. man hands?
Oooooo, the voice of Jason that always is residing in my head speaks up. "Run it under hot water". That is his usual response if he is unavailable and I lack the strength to open the pickles. So, under the spout it goes and stays. Ouch, hot! But, I don't give up! I want to conquer this! I am stubborn! I am woman, hear me grunt and sputter and observe as I get angry at an inanimate object.
Sigh.
This is not working.....
I bang it on a towel on the counter hoping that it won't break because it is my beautiful, brand ing new, wonderful pile of fondue utensils. But the banging is unprofitable and I give up....in my own strength that is.
What comes next, is the icing on my really ugly, pretend cake that had made a mess of my previous 15 minutes!
I pray.
But not a "normal" prayer. Not a holier-than-thou, belongs in St. Paul's Cathedral, prayer. Oh no!! I was being "real"! A comical, half-joking but in my heart of heart's quite sincere, last result prayer.
I glance at Taylor with a smile on my lips and a sigh escaping in between.
"Father God, you KNOW that this is a heart's desire of mine. (To not break my pretty little party set.) So please give me....Super Human Strength. In the name of Jesus."
Not kidding in the least. Those were my exact words and I didn't even make it through the prayer. I lost it as I was saying "strength". I mean, do you blame me?! I just asked God for Super Human Strength for the sake of Pete! So I guffawed at the end of my sentence to God. Is that o.k.?! Darn-tootin' it's o.k.!
And Taylor and I giggled again, and then I pulled...AGAIN....
and I am as serious as a tax audit when I say that the very next pull
they came apart....
They came apart!!!
Taylor and myself laughed and flipped out as if we had won an elephant for a day! We giggled until our tummies ached from all the joy and I thanked God while giggling.
The point of the story is God loves so awesomely with a sprinkling of creativity that is never ending.....and I think He likes fondue just as much as I do.

I long for my sisters.
The aching is strengthening with each passing day. My Cherbear and Amista: a better pair cannot be found.... My plans for our European get away, just need a few more thousand dollars into the "Going-to-Europe with my siblings jar"! I can smell the tantalizing delicacies and lower standard of personal hygiene from here. To know that you both have dealt with my bossiness, constant sarcasm for the years of 1993-1996, and have smelled more of my farts than you ever needed too....AND you still choose to stay connected with me?....super hero's you both are!

Mistry- I hope to one day choreograph another Paula Abdul song with you....big sweaters and stretch pants and all!
Shirl- Have we ever discovered what else can make us laugh until we pee our pants except for "blue eyelashes"??!!
I love both of you more than underwear that succeed at being both comfortable AND suggestive!!! xoxoxoxo ~Tamikins~

Here are my peeps from the kindergarten field trip day. I am fully capable to execute the very same immaturity level with convincing accuracy. Here's to you Bryson, Jonathan and Zachary.

Coffee creamer

It's the little things in life that make it worth living.
Coffee creamer, in the spectrum of the universe, is not what most (or any) persons would consider to be important by any stretch of the imagination. It's one of the items in your cart that is a non issue. Either you have creamer....or you don't. No one will be rushed to the emergency room nor will massive amounts of counseling be needed to reverse the effects of missing creamer.
But, oh....it sure made my morning this morning.....
My heart actually jumped. Briefly and almost unnoticeably, but it jumped at the thought of creamer!
Ha! Laugh if you will. Consider me a silly "girl" who is just too emotionally charged for her own good. Too optimistic for this considerably pessimistic world that we reside in perhaps? In spite of the absurdity and insignificance of it all creamer made me happy this morning! It really, truly blessed my heart almost immediately because it was there!
Chocolate Toffee...that is the flavor. It is good. REALLY good! And I had absolutely forgotten that I had thrown it into my cart the other day. It was a side thought really....it hadn't even been on my shopping list....just saw it and thought, "Oooooo that flavor might be quite tasty!" Grabbed it. Dropped it into the cart and BAM!!! All the makings for my "Great Tuesday Morning" were within my grasp! Just by grabbing the tasty creamer....
Who would've thought.
Who would've thought that God could use creamer? I suppose I did, deep down in my soul. He IS God, you know.
And I love Him.....
I passionately love how he can use something like creamer, for example, to remind us that happiness must come from within. It isn't the fact that I had this chocolate toffee creamer that made me happy. Goodness no! It was the gentle reminder that the little things in life are what make life so enjoyable....not always the yacht and the condo on the beach. The most important things in life are usually free. (Or in my case, $2.) Happiness is at each of our fingertips. Perched on the end waiting for us to notice, to stop stressing, to breathe in deep the blessings that are EVERYWHERE if we but look.
Thank you God for creamer.
Thank you that I have the money to buy creamer. Thank you for my pink polka-dotted coffee cup that cost $0.25 at a garage sale. Thank you that my taste buds do exactly what you created them to do. Thank you that I have a computer to drink my coffee in front of. Thank you that I have fingers to type and share my thoughts with the people that are most important to me. Thank you for all the people who are most important to me; The people who have given my heart a place to rest on more than one occasion.
Thank you for this morning and my own personal hug that I got from you, in the form of
chocolate
toffee
creamer.

Taylor's trip into the dramatic arts

Oh my dear, dear Taylor. The sweat. The tears. The daily requests, "Mom why can't I quit?!! I loathe this play! It's soooooo boring!" But, you stuck it out. You persevered. You followed through with your commitment and alas..... You LOVED the applause! Drama is a new found addiction. Broadway, she'll be of age soon enough!