Last night a tragedy occurred at my house. Brad and I had just tucked Turner in bed and come down stairs to watch TV. We snuggled up on the couch when we heard a pained scream. Turner was panicked because his bear, the beloved Brisco, had a hole in his head.
Brisco has been with our family since the day Turner was born. When he arrived he, much like Turner, was new, so soft, and smelled so good. After four years of being drug around the house, to Walmart, on cross country plane trips, and every other place Turner goes he's looking worse for wear and smells a little. Brisco isn't as plump as he once was. I guess following a busy little boy around is the perfect diet plan. He has been loved nearly to smithereens.
I walked upstairs to see Turner laying in his bed hugging Brisco with big unfallen tears in his eyes. He asked if Brisco would be OK and if I could fix him. I told him of course I could stitch Brisco up and it wouldn't take very long. I came down stairs and did the best job I could performing brain surgery on a VIP bear. Once he was hole free I returned him to a very happy little boy.
Life would be perfect if I could solve all of my children's' future problems as easily as sewing up a toy. I know that soon I will have to sneak bear out of Turner's bed and put more stuffing in him. As he is now, he's little more than a bear skin with no filling. I thank God the He starts everything out small for me. My children were small and easy to handle when I was first blessed with them. Their only problems were poopy diapers and hungry bellies. But as they grew new issues had to be dealt with, but I think I handled all that came my way. I just hope I can keep growing with my kids and always be able to give them the help they need. Even if the help they need means that one day I will have to stand back and watch instead of jumping in.
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