My dyslexic family does not have this problem.  They live in the here and now.  Oh, sometimes they remember the really good stuff that we do…like Disney World.  But for the most part they are very much “in the present” type of people.

Me…I am worried that I will never be able to let go of the mistakes I made, the bad decisions, the wasted money, the “what if’s” rule my world.

Not so, with my dyslexic family…”what if” is good only for planning the new baking soda bomb or the new Lego creation, it is not reserved for anything bad.

So, I have decided that I am letting go of the old…old clothes, old memories, old stuff…anything just collecting dust around my house has been put on notice.  Those bad memories will be replaced with new ones…I am getting old vhs tapes transferred to dvd’s, I am scanning old photos to create new books.

I am letting go of the old…and will slay the monsters as they come…

Late last year I had to have the talk with our oldest son.  It was the dreaded…”I am Santa, I am the Tooth Fairy…and did you really think there was a giant bunny running amok with baskets filled with candy each year” talk.  It was not a pretty sight but thankfully he had figured most of it out himself and was waiting on my confirmation because he was afraid his gifts would stop if he admitted he did not believe.  

All was well in the land of motherhood falsehoods.  I had come through with hardly a scratch of distrust.  At least I thought I had. 

Jump to a few weeks ago and our annual “Breakfast with Santa” morning.  I had explained to my oldest son that even though there was no “Santa”  there was the magic of Santa.  The magic of Santa was all of the hard work that went into making sure a child believes, the cookies, the buying of just the right gift, the traditional reindeer food, all of the little things we did that brought a smile to their lips and a sparkle to their eyes on Christmas morning.  He jumped on board with lots of new ideas for his little brother and I thought we were headed down the right path. 

Until the actually “sitting on Santa’s lap and asking for a toy” moment.  He chose to stand next to the big guy and that was fine.  Our little guy asked for a “Wappy Dog” (please don’t ask me to explain) and then Santa (our longtime faithful friend who plays the big guy each year) turned his head toward our oldest son and asked “What do you want this year?”

At that moment there was that sparkle in my son’s eyes and that smile touched his lips as he calmly told Santa he wanted a Red Mustang with black racing stripes.  My mouth fell open, my heart stopped.  There has NEVER been a year that Santa did not deliver exactly what was asked for (thanks to my early inspiration that the boys only ask for one gift from Santa).  We have stood in long lines, we have braved the elements, we have held our breath for deliveries but we have always been able to place the requested toy under the tree come Christmas morn’.  And, now in that fateful swoop of youthful arrogance our son had put us on notice…he knew the secret and he was not afraid to use it as leverage.  The little punk!  

After my initial shock that he would be so brave as to challenge me I laughed because I remembered I had a partner in crime…he had not only challenged me but he had challenged my HoneyBee!  Oh, that was a bad move but he is just too young to realize that his Dad has never lost a challenge.  

So, in great fatherly fashion my HoneyBee has purchased a model Mustang that will be sitting in our driveway with a red ribbon on it Christmas morn’.  And, under the tree it typical motherly manner will be a cute jar with a Hot Wheel Car on top of it labeled “SmartBee’s Car Fund.”

Take that Dear Son!

So far, all is good.  Except, guess what?  Video games have directions.  Directions that POP up throughout the cottonpickin’ games!

Take a listen to what happens in my house when someone wants to play a video game…

“Mom!”

“Don’t yell through the house!”

“Ok, but MOM!”

“What?!”

“Can I play the Wii?”

“Sure, set the timer and take turns with your brother if he wants to play.”

“He doesn’t, he’s outside.”

“Ok, go for it.”

Imagine five minutes of total silence.

“Mom!”

“BusyBee, don’t yell, I am right here.”  ( I am usually in my den right next to the living room where the Wii is, or the kitchen, again right next to the livingroom.)

“Oh, sorry.  Can you come here and read this.”

“Sure, hang on a second.”  (I interrupt whatever I was doing to move to the livingroom so I can read the screen.)

Insert…game directions that are all of one or two lines.

Imagine about two minutes of silence. 

“Mom!”

“What?”

“Read this please.”

Insert another one to two lines of directions.

Another one to two minutes of silence.

“Mom!”

“Seriously, BusyBee, can’t you sound out some of those words.”

“Mom!  I’m on a timer here!”

“Don’t be disrespectful or you will lose your time tomorrow.”

“Ok, sorry.  Could you please read?”

Insert more one to two liners.

Another minute or two of silence.

“Mom!”

Finally, I just sit down and watch him or them if they are both going to town on a game.  I read when the stupid one liners pop up.  I have no idea what they are doing, I have never been a “gamer.” 

And, whatever it was I was doing is put on hold. 

Please remember this when you stop by and my house is a mess.

Here are the highlights…

I have one more assignment and then I am done with my Learning Therapy Certificate courses and just have to sit for my certification test and I can officially call myself a “Certifiied Academic Language Therapist!”  I will also apply for licensure through the state of Texas.  I am thrilled to be completing this stage of my game.

Bad news…the folks at SMU changed the rules midstream and I now have to take the GRE to apply for the Master’s program.  I can do that, with a lot of stress added on so I am not sure if I will continue to get my Master’s. It’s only 4 more classes, though.  I will make the decision once I have my certificate in my hand. 

SmartBee is still home with me doing the homeschool thing.  Believe it or not there are more good days than bad days.  We have tried alot of different things out this year and I have defined “unschooling” for both myself and SmartBee.  It’s amazing what I thought going into this and what I think now.  But that’s a different post.

BusyBee is still busy, more than ever.  He is still in public school and I think we are going to leave him there at least through fifth grade.  There are some rites of passage we think he needs to go through when he hits 5th grade.  If we bring him home I think it will be in middle school the way we have with SmartBee. 

QueenBee had a cancer scare about a month or so ago.  Took us to our knees and reminded me that as much as she drives me crazy I would not want it any other way.  I would miss her if she was gone.  So, I am taking a few more deep breaths before I lash out in frustration.  Oh, she is still cancer free – 5 years Baby! 

HoneyBee is still my Honey.  He likes to remind me that I don’t know how lucky I have it but I do and I am thankful everyday for him.

I don’t write alot about myself on this blog because it’s not really about my struggle or my fight.  Mostly it’s about my Bees. 

But I wanted to share a new person I found, Brene Brown.  I am not sure how I stumbled upon her blog but I find myself checking her site for new posts almost daily.  In fact, I will admit that I pout if she does not post.  I am that hooked.  Now, listen to the reason I am hooked and you will be surprised. 

Once I found her site and browsed for a few days I realized she was the author of a book.  Being the avid reader I am and enjoying my new Kindle a bit too much I purchased her book,

Click to go to Brene's Amazon Store!

Then I started reading and going through her “read-along” series with the book.  I have to tell you I have had the book for about two months and I am only on chapter three.  It really makes me think and think again about things, about me, about being perfect and about shame. 

You see long ago in the world of singlehood and college I would show up to an 8am Psych class with a full face of make-up, nails and toes done to match, and undies matching whatever the primary color was on the outside.  My shoes matched my purse and my belt (and if it had belt loops there was always a belt).

I can not even begin to tell you how color coordinated my class materials were.  Each class had a color right down to the pen I took notes with and the paper those notes were written on. 

I weighed a whooping 98 pounds soaking wet.  I had big blonde hair.  And, a big ‘ole chip on my shoulder.  They called me the Ice Princess.  I was 19. 

I was also a spoiled, only child in a somewhat dysfunctional family.  I also lived with my share of shame.  And, nope I can’t talk about that one on this blog.  I had no intention of getting married or having children.  Let me say that again for all who didn’t catch it the first time I had no intention of getting married or having children.  My life was perfect and I had created this Person who was perfect too.

It took alot of things happening at once, a few good friends, a some quality time in front of the mirror to get rid of that person.  Just in time too because right around the time I “found” myself I met HoneyBee and he found me delightful!  Then we had boys, BOYS and I found another part of me.  I am a Mom to BOYS.  Or, as my new t-shirt says “Boy-Mom.”

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would become a STRONG advocate for marriage, much less a Mom to BOYS.  I cannot be these two things sucessfully if I live in perfectionism or if I carry my shame around.  And, these two things are the two things I really want to get right in my life so the other two had to go. 

Now, she has another book out and I will never get to read it because it is taking me so long to get through the first one!  But I have full, grand intentions to get through both of them. 

So, I want to introduce her new book…

Click above to go to Brene's Amazon Store!

If you do one good thing for yourself this week check out Brene’s blog…Ordinary Courage www.ordinarycourage.com and buy her book.  Join me in taking off the cloak of perfectionism to live in joy and to BELIEVE that  we are  better when we embrace ourselves as we really are.