taming momma bear.

It's no secret that I can go from sweet to ferocious in 2 seconds if I think for one moment that my children are being mistreated.  I'm just not one of those moms who can embrace my kids’ heartache as a means to toughen them up.  That's been a hard one for me. I am a communicator, a fixer, a nurturer, and a protector.  

I am momma bear.  

And, my youngest cub is sensitive.  

Sensitive. Sigh. What a loaded word. 

It's a strength and a weakness. A blessing and a curse. 

But that's just one side of him. And there are very few people who get to see the rest because there are very few people whom he feels comfortable around.  He is precious, hilarious, smart, compassionate, and he's painfully shy.  And he’s sensitive.  

Well, a few times over the last few weeks I've wanted to come to his rescue.  I wanted to find the fool who hurt his feelings and rip em' a new one.  But I just heard the Holy Spirit hush me; tell me to wait.  (I really don't rip people a new one per se, but I mediate through emails or little talks with teachers, etc.)  The main point I'm always pushing with him is forgiveness, and how proud he should feel over his sparkling manners.  He doesn’t treat people badly; he has manners and character.  So he wins.  And I win because he's mine.  

Lately, he has really been surprising me with his ability to stand up for himself.  Like when a little girl gave him “tips on how to be cool;” which basically entailed him developing an entirely new personality and set of friends.  He told her he didn’t need her tips and that everyone is different.  He wasn’t even hurt over it; he mostly seemed surprised by her audacity. 

I was proud of him. 

A situation came up recently where I was concerned about him getting his feelings hurt.  I felt I needed to do some pre-damage control, however I felt hesitation and decided just to wait.  I prayed about it, and I felt like I was supposed to trust God with his heart.  After all, He loves him even more than I do.  Well, like everything God does, it went better than I could have imagined.  I saw stars in his eyes; the kind that only come out when something real special happens.   If I had gotten involved, the whole thing might have been called off.  

So, I’m officially taming the momma bear.  I mean, tame doesn’t mean sedated or buried.  It just means disciplined and slow react. 

It’s time.

safe keeping.

I came across the best interview the other day, and I wanted to post it here so I can read it whenever I want. I've had a long standing respect for the soy bomb guy. He's just as much a part of my life as the cast of Friends and the lyrics to my favorite songs.  He's just there, in my arsenal of pop culture influences.  He's one of my all time favorites.

 I remember watching this live. I was at home with Alexandria, who was about 6 months old, enjoying BobDylan's song when the Soy Bomb guy started flailing around. I was mesmerized. This was before social networking and texting, so I had to wait a few days to discuss it with my friends. Imagine that.

What I like about the interview is his wording; it's so weird yet impossibly brilliant.
I hope he gets to make a comeback one day.

The real question on people's minds at the 1998 Grammys wasn't "How did some guy with 'Soy Bomb' painted on his chest get onstage with Bob Dylan?" No, the more pressing question was, "How did this guy get to STAY onstage with Bob for almost an entire minute, before security realized he wasn't part of the act?" Bob seemed as confused as everyone else.

In a new interview with Yahoo! Music, Soy Bomb, who is a respected artist and whose real name is Michael Portnoy, explains his motivations behind that night. "Comedy is for people who have a sense of rhythm but can't play an instrument. Rhythm is for people who like to hit animals but instead stretch them over clay bowls. The art world is for people who want to be comedians and musicians, but don't like driving in vans with other males, or practicing. Soy Bomb was intended to be a simple poem, but my arms stole all the attention."

Asked if he would ever crash national television again for a performance art piece, Portnoy replied, "If the delivery of all the nation's programming were confined to just one Jumbotron in the heart of the country, I might consider occupying a few square feet in the lower right corner of the screen as a kind of living punctuation."

We assume that means yes!