The Bear Necessities of Life!

“In a world where everyone seems to be larger and louder than yourself, it is very comforting to have a small, quiet companion.” ~ Peter Gray

I used to run a preschool in my home named, “The Teddy Bear Preschool,” addressing the “Bear Necessities of Life,” a subtitle created from the music of the movie, Jungle Book. I’m not sure when my obsession with teddy bears began, but somehow over the years it grew into a full blown addiction! Maybe it began when I was a young mother with my two year old son, Cordale, sitting beside me on the couch nursing his beloved teddy bear, “Hank,” while I nursed his new baby sister, Aleesha. Perhaps it began much earlier, as a young child, tucking in my assorted stuffed animals in bed with me at night, hoping to hide my favorite long-haired, yellow kitty from my roommate, a teenage sister with a cat paranoia! Maybe I transferred her nightmare fear of cats into a cuddly teddy bear love.

I recall taking a VERY large Teddy Bear named, “HB” (abbreviation for “Huggy Bear”) with me to college, a hand-me-down from my sister, Judy, engaged to be married and ridding herself of old boyfriend memorabilia. HB became a symbol of love and a secretly murmured humorous nickname for one of my clueless college roommate’s boyfriends, when she’d mysteriously disappear for hours every weekend on their dates to make-out mountain!

College HB led to an even bigger adult bear obsession, when as a mother I shopped for special teddy bears at Christmas time, excited when I qualified for “four” store bear give-a-ways one year, enough for all my little girls! To be fair, my husband, Dale, was an enabler, indulging me with gifts of stuffed bears for Christmas and other holidays. On one particular Christmas my daughter, Ashley, and I received “twin” bear gifts, mine from Dale, hers gifted from her brother, Cord. A year later, Ashley sat hugging her well loved, dingy white teddy bear, looking up at my still sparkling white, clean teddy bear, safely out of reach adorning my upper bookshelf, and exclaimed with sadness in her voice, “I feel sorry for your teddy bear. It never gets loved or played with.”

One of the books that I used to read to my children was called, “Ted E. Bear Finds Christmas,” by Diane Mayfield. I liked the clever title and named my Teddy Bear Preschool “bear puppet” the name as well. Ted E. Bear taught the preschoolers their alphabet letter of the week, with an appropriate rhyming song. He was a clever, intelligent bear indeed!

My preschool fulfilled all my bear needs for a while, with bear alphabet and number decorations, bear calendar and weather bear, bear coat hooks, bear name tags, bear snack crackers, bear bingo markers, Teddy Bear Newsletter, worksheet bear stamps, and the teddy bear book bags, professionally stenciled and crafted on my home serger. Each year my little bear preschool began with a teddy bear open house with bear “dot to dot” take homes and homemade teddy bear suckers. I decorated a teddy bear Christmas tree for the preschool holiday bear program. In the spring we had a teddy bear picnic with teddy bear shaped Rice Krispie treats. The year always ended with teddy bear graduation, featuring my preschooler bear singers and a bear diploma. Finally, as all good things eventually come to an end, the Teddy Bear Preschool doors closed when I decided to have one more baby and build the preschool area of my basement into another bedroom. However, my farewell to bears and the storing away of my preschool bear paraphernalia opened up the door to a whole new bear obsession.

“Beanie Babies,” specifically bears, made by Ty from the original beanie babies collection, made their debut into my life when my daughter, Elizabeth, went to college and brought home my very first beanie bear. It appeared to be a fun, harmless collectable, only $5.00. My heart warming inexpensive treasure was a snow white colored bear with black eyes, brown nose, little bear ears and tail, with a red “heart” embroidered on his chest. He was adorned with a scarlet ribbon around his neck, romantically named, “Valentino,” appropriately dated with the birth of February 14, 1994. I DO love clever names and marketing ploys for adorable inanimate objects. I was hooked! More than a century later I have an overwhelming amount of beanie bears for every holiday and special occasion imaginable. Finally I have taken the pledge, joining “Bears Anonymous,” a club that exists only in my mind. I have vowed a “no bears for me” policy. For once you have run out of room on the collectable shelf of life, having hideous amounts of other bears stored in boxes, with no more room for display, it is time to openly recognize you have an addiction and quit! Of course I can’t guarantee there won’t be an occasional emotional relapse with a chewy gummy bear, or my favorite, a delicious chocolate cinnamon bear! And yes, if you’re wondering, I DO have a “build-a-bear,” (two) with clothing and accessories. Because some things really are the “Bear Necessities of Life!”

“Everything in life I share, except of course my teddy bear!”

~ Unknown

“Bears are just about the only toy that can lose just about everything and still maintain their dignity and worth.” ~ Samantha Armstrong

“When everyone else has let you down, there's always Ted.”

~ Clara Ortega

“Teddy bears don't need hearts as they are already stuffed with love!” ~ Author Unknown

Pollyanna and the Grinch

“The most important thing a father can do for his children is to

love their mother!” ~ Theodore Hesburgh

My parents are a combination of the fictional character, “Pollyanna,” from the famous Disney movie, Pollyanna, and the cartoon character, “Grinch,” from Dr. Seuss’s The Grinch Who Stole Christmas! When I was growing up my mother, Shirley, had dark, almost black hair, not yet grayed from age. I thought she was beautiful like my sister, Vicki. Mom was a gifted, and talented seamstress. She could look at a dress in a magazine and recreate the design using various pattern pieces. My mother must have “sang and shouted for joy” when she knew she was coming to earth to receive a body, as she could literally sing and mesmerize audiences with her vocal performances. Everything about my mother is cultured and refined. She loves theater, art, and literature. Having been unable to go to college, my mother sought education through local college education classes and through books. As a young mother, her bishop told her that she was raising five, very special spirits and she should strive to obtain more knowledge.

My mother taught her children truths and values by writing, relating stories about her life and others she’d known. She used her storytelling skills to write road-shows and plays for local youth performances and later she wrote romantic novels. When my parents built the house I grew up in, mom helped design and decorate it. She was the mother everyone else wanted and I was the envied daughter who actually thought she was cool! She’d often tuck me in bed with her late at night after my father left for work, and we’d watch old black and white movies. My mother loved good movies, especially the ones with well written stories, noble characters, and a moral message. I loved all the honorable, virtuous, classical old movies of her generation. To this day I am transformed by a good story with principled heros and heroines.

My mother is a perpetual optimist. She is Pollyanna and the “glad game,” the author of positive thinking. She has always given me hope and continuously lifted me to greater heights with her never-ending belief in an eventual happily ever after ending!

Humorously, for everything my mother represented while I was growing up, my father, Milton, appeared to be the polar opposite! How they came to have five children with him working hard at night and into the late afternoons, and her staying up late into the wee hours of the morning working on projects, is a mystery, if not a miracle! In his youth, my father, Milt, was a shy, fair haired, blond with wavy hair. However, by the time I met him, the curls had thinned and all but vanished. I thought he was extraordinarily handsome. Best of all, his dry sense of humor kept his children laughing and my mother often apologizing, when his tall tales and seemingly harmless chauvinistic jokes embarrassed her.

High priority on my father’s list of talents was his lifetime love of fishing. Fishing, and his great love for the sport, soared foremost above all of my father’s other passions and interests. He and his father and two brothers more than likely fished every fishing hole from Utah to Wyoming. Our monetary purchases were measured by the dozens of donuts he’d need to make in his chosen bakery profession, but our life values were analogized in humorous quotes about fish. Dad had a fishing joke for every occasion. My father truly was an amazing fisherman and he kept us supplied with an impressive “catch of the day,” although we were mostly unappreciative having usually witnessed the final demise as he gutted, cleaned, and prepared the slimy vertebrate. It was not until I began reading my mother’s history later in life that I realized how often my father went fishing. His long, continuous days of hard work were peppered with his needed and much deserved, fishing stress releaser. However in the days before cell phone and easy phone access, I’m sure my mother spent many desperate, if not lonely hours, handling life’s crises, unable to reach my father.

To my hardworking father, his work was his play, and he was an excellent provider in the days where men were expected to “bring home the bacon” to their stay at home wives who would “fry it up in a pan.” So why did I think of him as the Grinch to my mother’s Pollyanna? Not only were my parents complete opposites in their cultural likes and dislikes, they had contrasting senses of humor! Dad loved to tease my mother and give her the exact opposite reaction than she was looking for. This generous, loving man, who denied us nothing, loved to be the pretend “ba humbug” in my mother’s Christmas, much to my delight and the laughter of my siblings! Now retired and plagued with dementia, my father’s former life has changed. However, his sense of humor is still there, evident by the way he rolls his eyes and by the funny comments mumbled beneath his breath.

When I was a child, I admired my parents and wanted to be just like them. As I grew to maturity, I wanted to be different, better somehow. I would certainly never give the tired old speeches I’d grown up with! Then one day I caught myself saying something to one of my adult children that my mother would have said, realizing at the same time that I’d turned into my mother. Suddenly, it wasn’t such a bad thing after all!

Dedicated to my 87 year old parents for their 68th Wedding Anniversary (September 17, 1941).

Understanding a Woman

A man walking along a California beach was deep in prayer. Suddenly the sky clouded above his head and in a booming voice the Lord said, “Because you have tried to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant you one wish.”

Excitedly, the man said, “Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can drive over anytime I want.” 


Disappointed, the Lord said, “Your request is very materialistic. Think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking. Consider the supports required to reach the bottom of the Pacific and the concrete and steel it would take! It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. I can do it, but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Why don’t you take a little more time and think of something that would honor and glorify me?”

The man sincerely thought about it for a long time. Finally he said, “Lord, I wish that I could understand my wife! I want to know how she feels inside, what she's thinking when she gives me the silent treatment, why she cries, what she means when she says, 'nothings wrong' and how I can make a woman truly happy.”

The Lord replied, “You want two lanes or four on that bridge?”

Definitions of Nine Words Women Use:


1. FINE: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to stop talking.


2. FIVE MINUTES: If she is getting dressed, this means half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.


3. NOTHING: This is the ‘calm’ before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.


4. GO AHEAD: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!


5. LOUD SIGH: This is not actually a word, but a nonverbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of nothing.)


6. THAT’S OKAY: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.


7. THANKS: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say, “You're welcome.” (I want to add in a clause here. This is true, unless she says, “Thanks a lot,” which is PURE sarcasm and she is NOT thanking you at all. DO NOT say, “You're welcome,” as that will bring on a “whatever”).


8. WHATEVER: This is a subtle way a woman has of saying GO TO XXXX!!!


9. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, I GOT IT: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking, “What's wrong?” For the woman's response refer to #3.


“Women are meant to be loved . . . not to be understood!” ~ Oscar Wilde

The History of Medicine

Recently I was searching the Internet for a specific Lyme protocol using my favorite new doTERRA essential oils. Instead, I was gifted with a current Lyme protocol and study using my recently discovered Nature’s Sunshine products. Along with the discovery I came across this humorous treasure, “The History of Medicine.” To all those with difficult health issues, navigating the challenging road to wellness . . . Enjoy!

The History of Medicine

• 2000 BC: “Here, eat this root.”
• 1000 AD: “That root is heathen. Here, say this prayer.”
• 1850 AD: “That prayer is superstition. Here, drink this potion.”
• 1940 AD: “That potion is snake oil. Here, swallow this pill.”
• 1985 AD: “That pill is ineffective. Here, take this antibiotic.”
• 2009 AD: “That antibiotic is artificial and does not work anymore. Here, eat this root!”
~ Dr Richard Horowitz, Hyde Park, NY