Origins.

So, why is the blog named “Grin and Bear Pack?”

Well, the answer is twofold:

First, I quite regularly find myself exasperated with situations of late. My patience has waned. My patience is shot. I suffer from a slight inflexibility. My usual route of frustration stems from my Facebook newsfeed; where I am constantly shocked by inanity. But, media of all kind too frequently demonstrates overwhelming stupidities. It’s in the form of obvious spelling errors and in the lack of elementary grammatical comprehension. It’s in the lately-prevalent crunch-o-sphere that represents alternative opinions and publicly vilifies research-established protocol (like vaccines). It’s in the universal denigration and shaming of parents who don’t or can’t measure up (like formula-feeders, tv-watchers, non-organics). It’s in the blind and misguided following of political trends without an educated awareness of policy effects. It’s in the premature spilling of secrets and extensive over-sharing. It’s in the rampant egomania. Everyone thinks their personal opinions, ideas, details, play-by-plays, lists matter… Um, not me, obviously. Idiocy.

(Especially in parent-dom, there are offenses: Ones who make sweeping judgements then pinpointed belittlements of other mothers. I cannot suggest that I do not make sweeping generalizations. I do. But, thankfully, mine are correct).

I am at my wit’s end.

Second, I have had some unusual personal struggles lately. Up until a few years ago, I enjoyed a pretty carefree life. However, in recent time, and most specifically, since the advent of parenthood, I am confronted with unexpected and unique challenges. Not the run-of-the-mill exhaustion, tempers, etc. Unusual. Special.

For instance: my beautiful, wonderful, amazing daughter is bald. Completely bald. She has alopecia. We don’t know yet what this will mean for her future. She is almost two. It means very little to her now. But, it sometimes overwhelms me. Yes, I am incredibly thankful that she is (mostly) otherwise healthy. I just can’t help but imagine what implications this will have on her future. There’s no denying that she will be different. And, people will treat her differently. They already do. I want her to have everything. Without complication. It’s just such strange territory in ways.

So, I get fed up from time to time. I suppose I could smile and nod and “bear it.” Stiff upper lip and all that (see Brit-o-phile entry). But, I have the bear pack. Lucky me.

Seriously, my people “bear” me up. They can make me smile. They can make me laugh. In fact, we most often turn life’s little difficulties into cause for jest and hilarity.

If there was a pie chart for my life, the greatest slice would belong to my family. (Well, depending on the type of pie. If it was pecan, I would probs eat the greatest slice).

If laughter is the best medicine, I’m thankful for my prescription. Bear pack. Roar.