Harry the Bee

I have anxiety.  I’ve dealt with it most of my adult life.  I like to feel in control of the world around me, and, well, I’m not.  First, there was Riley’s face plant and resulting loose teeth.  Then came Dylan’s sensory processing disorder diagnosis.  Then there was family drama.  Then my root canal. Last week, the dishwasher broke. That cost $450 and then I found out that the most expensive college in the country – Sarah Lawrence College, where I had the privilege of attending graduate school – costs $58,000 a year (!!) and I’m wondering how the hell we’ll ever afford to send our boys to college.

Now I have insomnia.  Unless I take a sleeping pill, I spend a few hours every night, usually from about 2am-4am,thinking about how Dylan will cope when he goes to Kindergarten next year and has to deal with the stress of a new school, new kids and new teachers.  Also on my mind: finding a new pediatrician, the black suede Michael Kors “Lesley” booties I saw at Nordstrom last week and what to do for party favors at Dylan’s birthday party.  (I never said my anxiety made any sense.)

I need an anchor. Sure, the sleeping pills help, but I need to know there’s something I can count on to remind me that everything’s going to be okay.   That something is actually someone and that someone is Harry the Bee.  Harry the Bee makes me happy. He’s my rock when the world around me spins out of control.  

Introducing Harry the Bee:

I feel better just looking at him!

Although my boys are big balls of chaos, they’re darn cute and very excited about their costumes this year.  We had a dry run last Friday at a My Gym Halloween party: