Team Bradley

Husband of the Year Nomination

2012-02-08T19:44:00.011-06:00

This year will mark the 7th year that we have known each other. Seven is, of course, the perfect number, and while our lives together haven't been perfect, they have been the best years so far. I've always thought that if people knew the kind of man that you are, I mean, if they really knew, they would try to steal you away. You have won husband of the year in '07, '08, '09, '10, '11 and you are a the front runner in 2012.

It's easy for me to see why the judges pick you.

In 2005 we fell in love even after you almost lost me when you dropped the "L bomb" after only 2 weeks of dating. You used to walk me to my morning classes on Tuesday and Thursdays even after you dropped out of your morning classes on those days and had to make a 15 min. drive to get to campus. I had so much fun falling in love, and I will always remember that semester as the epitome of love + college.

In 2006 you climbed the highest mountain in Arkansas, planted a green flag with a white egg, and drank a chocolate Yoohoo, all while proclaiming your love for me. That fall you proposed at the lake at sunset, and an otter swam by us, which, of course, was God's way of saying that we were "meant to be."

In the spring of 2007 you learned how to dance with me. That summer we perfected our dance which we performed at our wedding, a day I will never forget. You prayed for our future children that day, and I laughed, thinking that kids were so far down the road.

In 2008 we learned how to work "in the real world" and bought our first home together. You got to see the "Hardin Rage" come out when we played tennis, and you loved me despite me.

In 2009 we adopted our first little kitten and loved her so much that we named her "Maybe" because we couldn't decide if we we're going to keep her (and, let's be honest, the jury is still out). We thought you might lose your job, and we just held tighter to each other.

In 2010 you endured months of taking care of a pregnant/sick wife while transitioning into a new career. You once bought me eight california rolls and rented me Twilight in those weak, pregnantly moments. You supported me and "the creature" and spent hours thinking up things you would teach him, like getting him to talk in a British accent.

In 2011 you really went above and beyond the call of husbandly duty, sacrificing hours of sleep, so that I could rest. You encouraged and held me up when I was tired and discouraged. You prayed for me, loved me, and loved our son, our little "Lukesapotamus."

And while only a month and a few days have gone by in 2012, you have had to endure a lot of criticism for skipping out on weekly Poker Nights to spend time with your "controlling" wife. If only those guys could see the kind of husband that you are, the kind of love and support that you give this family.

Any man might take a bullet, giving his life for the woman he loves, but it takes a real man like you to give his life every day to serve and love his wife and son. To put us second only behind God and to shower us with time and love and fun.

I am proud to stand by you, to call you my husband. I love you more than I can put into words, and I will follow you to the ends of the earth and back.

Your loving and adoring wife,

Jenny

I try not to blag (brag + blog) very often, but Lindsey March gave me the perfect opportunity to share a love letter with the hubster while simultaneously enter a drawing for a $30 Visa Gift Card. You should link up with us too. Follow the link to see Lindsey's rules.

That IS a Crime

2012-02-04T21:00:00.005-06:00

I got good feedback on "That's Not A Crime", a blog that I hoped to continue as a regular segment. However, my Sweet Honey Do Husband of Mine has not given me the stories that I require, so I give you this sister segment.

A business owner in Springdale was getting frustrated with repeated break-ins to his property. He informed a police officer that the PD should be alert for the booby traps that he'd placed around said property. These traps included a trip wire which would hurl you into a grease pit with the hopes that your fall would subsequently propel you into boards with nails sticking out of them.

The PD had to inform this business owner that, contrary to his belief, creating booby traps, was, in fact, a crime. In fact, it is actually a felony to do this in Arkansas.

So for all my blog readers, you have been informed. Please take down your booby traps and save yourself from a class D felony.

Also, kinda makes you rethink the whole Home Alone scenario. Little Kevin was a class D felon, and didn't serve a day in juvy. But that was back in the 90s. Now you'd never be able to get away with that. Oh, the good ole days.

2010 Arkansas Code

Title 5 - Criminal Offenses

Subtitle 6 - Offenses Against Public Health, Safety, Or Welfare

Chapter 73- Weapons

Subchapter 1 - Possesion and Use Generary

5-73-126 - Booby Traps

(a) It is unlawful for any person to install or maintain a booby trap upon his or her own property or any other person's property.

(b) As used in this section, "booby trap" means a device designed to cause death or serious physical injury to a person.

(c) Any person who pleads guilty or nolo contendere or who is found guilty of violating this section is guilty of a Class D felony.

Juxtaposed Jenny and the Huge Decision

2012-01-29T21:11:00.008-06:00

Well, whether I like it or not, my baby is going to turn 1 in just over 3 months. I find myself thinking of party planning and gifts and all that goes with an all out first birthday party extravaganza, and I must say it is just a little bit overwhelming.

There are two sides of me that are battling it out. The one side of me, we'll call her "Cool Mom," wants to go all out and follow the trend of having a cool birthday for my one-year-old, complete with presents, Happy Birthday cut outs, personalized cake, pictures of Luke throughout the year, party favors, and, well, you get the picture.

But there's this other side. We'll call her the "Real Me," (but not the same Real Me that had to differentiate herself from the New Me Vampire that Mark thought I was) that says that not only am I incapable of throwing together a successful baby soiree but that it is completely impractical too.

This cute little baby will be one-year-old. That is 366 days old (leap year, guys - I'm not a dummy). He literally just stepped foot on this planet like yesterday. He will have no idea why people are in his house or why they are singing or why there are pictures of him and cake and dancers (yes, belly dancers - Mark's recruiting from the PD).

I have no doubt he will like the cake and perhaps the singing and probably not the belly dancers. In fact, just decided to scratch that - I think that one was Mark's idea, and really it's a dumb idea, sweetheart sugar muffin (which is what I call him when no one is around and oopsie shared on the blog).

Back to Luke. This baby, who I might brag on for a bit, can sign "all done" and says "bye" like a champ. He chugs milk like it's nothing and won the 2011 International Crawling Championship. He deserves a party. I can't argue with him on that, but here's my problem. I am cheap.

I don't buy clothes unless I have a gift card. Eating out is a luxury. Luke wears hand-me-downs and clothes given to him by his grandparents. I just don't believe in buying new things until the old things have died. My cell phone still says, "Alltel" which means it is a relic of a phone. I was mad at myself for buying fast food at Wendy's today because it was $13, which could have bought bread, cheese, meat, which would've lasted for a few days. But we bought one meal and the money was gone, and I've got buyer's remorse that will last at least until tomorrow.

I've always been a saver, and I used to hide my money in a round pink tin with bears on it that said "Roberta" on the side. I don't think my parents saw the "Roberta" on there because it blended in with the other colors of the tin. Maybe it was "Robearta" and that was the name of the bear? It's not important.

So the idea of throwing down more than say $25 on a party that my son won't remember is just killing me. The cake itself (if I want it to be cute) will take at least $10 of that. And I want to give him a couple of gifts, which is ridiculous too. Ridiculous because he won't care, won't thank me, and they could very well end up in the closet in the not too distant future. How many of you have your presents from your first birthday?

But I can't help myself. I want to get him at least two gifts, and they have to be thoughtful. I don't really like stuff for stuff's sake. One is the book, "You are Special", by Max Lucado which is a book I think every child should have. And I realize it is not an age appropriate gift, but I love the message of the book, which is blog-worthy in itself and which I will refrain from going into right now. I think I can get it for like $7.

Which takes my hypothetical $25 budget down to $8 (don't forget the $10 cake), so I shouldn't even be contemplating the other gift that I want to get him. Luke owns probably 10 stuffed animals. They are cute and fluffy, and yet I find myself making multiple searches of this little guy from Jellycat. And, I wonder if he is really as cute as I think he is, and I wonder if he could become Luke's favorite stuffed dog like my favorite little stuffed dog, "Trusty Dead" (another blog).

And then I think that maybe that would just be me pushing my love for dogs onto my son when he clearly has a preference for cats. I kid you not, he reached for Maybe before he ever reached for me or Mark (proof below).

Plus, you want to know how much Jellycat Hound Medium 12" costs? Twenty-four dollars! BAM. Hypothetical budget blown. I just can't get myself to push the "add to cart" button.

So while I see other people's awesome blow out celebrations for their babies, I just don't know that "Real Me" can ever be "Cool Mom" even though she wants to be. I might have to send letters of support to fund Luke's first birthday. Do you think the church would pass a collection plate so that I could get Luke's cake at Rick's?

So, while the two sides of me war it out, I'd love to have some feedback - about the dog, the belly dancers, the party, the decorations, whatever. Throw it at me. My sweetheart sugar muffin is coming home, and it is time to wrap this up like a birthday present, which in my case would probably involve using the newspaper comics instead of real wrapping paper.

Luke Shiloh

2012-01-08T15:14:00.009-06:00

On Jan. 6th. I saw the following comment on my blog...

"Hi Jenny! I googled the name Luke Shiloh, wondering if anyone else had chosen the name. I was excited to see you are pro-life. In the past couple weeks, I've named my son Luke Shiloh, who was aborted at 6 weeks gestation on February 6, 2009. Check out my blog to read my testimony of what God has done in my life and how He has healed and redeemed...You can read about all this on my blog if you'd like: www.roseandherlily.blogspot.com Blessings to you in the new year!"

Let me start by saying that sometimes I have a hard time being serious when I write. Perhaps you can tell that from the majority of my posts. I'd rather not talk about politics or write about anything too controversial. The most negative feedback I've ever received was when I posted about how I hated Avatar. Who knew that a movie about dragons in a make believe world could stir people up so much?

And it seems like it's the silliest thing that make people mad, but on really important issues people remain (for the large part) silent. I knew that I was stepping outside of my blog box when I wrote about abortion a few weeks ago. To be honest, I didn't want to write about it. It's not that I don't have strong beliefs about the issue. I do. It's just that I hate writing about something that hasn't affected me personally. Because I realize when it comes right down to it, that I haven't been in the shoes of a woman who has felt the need to have an abortion.

I realize that I'm white, went to a prep school, had everything provided for me, etc. So, I stayed on the surface, not wanting to alienate anyone who might be reading my blog and thinking to themselves, "she's never walked in my shoes or been in my situation."

And then I read Hannah's blog www.roseandherlily.blogspot.com. Hannah was raised in a Christian, pro-life home, just like me. When she got pregnant in 2009, she worried about what her family would think. "In a pro-life family, it was always easy to agree with these beliefs, never thinking that I would be tested by them," she said.

But at a vulnerable time her life, she felt she had no other choice. She was told that she might experience initial sadness, but that she should seek help if it lasted more than a couple of days. For Hannah, the days after her abortion were the darkest days of her life, but God rescued her from the darkness and brought her into the light in a miraculous way.

That's one of the reasons she decided to name her son Luke Shiloh. Luke means "light" and Shiloh means "peace." How neat that our sons share the same name.

That is only half the story, and I can't do it justice. Please read it for yourself.

Read Hannah's testimony and how God redeemed her, healed her and brought what was once in darkness into the light.

Read about how Hannah's chose life for her next child, Lily, only to find out that Lily didn't have a heartbeat the day of her delivery.

Read about how she has honored both of her children's memories.

Read about how she went back to Planned Parenthood to get her sonogram images of Luke Shiloh and share part of her story with the woman who was there when she got the abortion.

Read about how she chose the name Luke Shiloh.

I am so thankful for this new dear blog friend and her willingness to share her story. What an amazing testimony of God's goodness and grace.

My Not So Successful Photo Shoot

2011-11-16T19:25:00.007-06:00

I realize it's cold outside now, but on Sunday the weather was warm. In fact, it was perfect for a little walk. I strolled Luke down to the park and saw that the sun was beginning to set. It was really pretty, and I thought, "I wish I had my camera."

Well, our house is just up the street from the park, so I decided to jog up to the house and grab my camera and a change of clothes for Luke (since what he was wearing wasn't that

cute).

I got back to the park and the sun still hadn't set, so I grabbed the clothes out from under the stroller only to discover that the shirt I picked out was not there. Not to be discouraged, I jogged back up to the house to get his shirt, which had fallen onto the floor of the kitchen.

We jogged back to the park, and still the sun had not set. Whew.

I proceeded to change Luke's clothes. Yes, in hindsight I could have changed them at the house, but, regardless, I changed them there. Luke, who loves being as naked as he can be, started smiling immediately. So I grabbed the camera to get some pics of him in his little khaki pants before I put his shirt back on.

As I was taking some pictures of him I noticed a car pull into the parking lot and the driver and passenger looked over at us and then drove on. I didn't think anything of it until a couple of minutes later when the car pulled back in the parking lot and drove slowly past me again. At this time, I felt awkward. Did they think I was a creeper? Did they think it was too cold for a baby to be out in the middle of a field without his shirt on? Feeling judged, I quickly put Luke's long sleeved blue polo t-shirt on him and resumed the photo shoot. Luke proceeded to roll off his blanket and stuff his face with grass. I continued taking pictures and stopped after every couple of pictures to remove grass from his mouth. I figured it was just grass and it couldn't really hurt him. Plus, he kind of looked like a country boy chewing on it. I deemed it "cute" and tried not to be an overprotective first time mom, refusing to worry about germs or choking.

That is until Luke started choking...on the grass. At first I thought it was just going to be a one cough and done scenario. But, his eyes got wide and his cough lost sound. FYI - the picture of him coughing was before I realized he was actually choking.

Right after this picture, he spewed up a bunch of milk all over my shirt. I never did see the grass.

The last picture was accidentally taken as I was swinging him up to turn him over and hit his back. My heart stood still for those few seconds between the silent cough, and I couldn't have been happier to wear the contents of his stomach.

And that was my not so successful photo shoot...

But on a happier note, God wrote my initials on my soft taco.

Loving Choices Banquet

2011-11-02T19:42:00.006-05:00

Claire Culwell always knew she was adopted, and when she was 20-years-old she she decided she would try and find her birth mother. She called the adoption agency, and gave her name and asked if they would get in touch with her birth mother to see if her birth mother would meet with her.

She met her birth mom a few months later. At the meeting, Claire gave her birth mother a ring. She told her that she was so thankful that she had chosen to give her life. Her birth mom broke down crying and proceeded to tell Claire her story.

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She conceived Claire when she was 12-years-old. She told her mother that she was pregnant, and her mom took her to the abortion clinic. She was 5 months pregnant when she got an abortion. However, after a month she realized that she was still pregnant. She went back to the abortion clinic. They told her that they had successfully aborted one baby, but that she had been pregnant with twins and was still pregnant with one of them. They told her that she was too far along to do an abortion at their clinic, but recommended another clinic that did abortions at 6 months or later.

Her parents drove through the night to get her to the other abortion clinic, but when the doctor saw her, he told her he couldn't do an abortion. After the first abortion her amniotic sac had ruptured, and it would put her in danger to do anything and that the baby was almost ready to be born.

She gave birth to a baby girl that week.

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Claire was 3 lbs. when she was born. Because of the abortion to her twin, she had clubbed feet and dislocated hips. She was in the hospital for 3 months.

Her adopted parents weren't anticipating adopting a baby who needed multiple and expensive surgeries, but they prayed about it and felt like God was calling them to adopt her. She was in body casts for two years, but she is now a healthy, young girl.

Claire told her story last night at the Loving Choices Banquet. It was incredible and such a needed reminder that life is sacred.

Did you know that 40 percent of all African Americans pregnancies end in induced abortions?

The following is from toomanyaborted.com

This isn’t black versus white or me versus you. It’s the truth versus the lie. The truth is that abortion kills an innocent human life. It’s easier to speak in euphemisms, but the miracle of life is threatened every day by an unrelenting false ideology that teaches our society that a woman’s very biology is a threat to her. This Birth Control Movement turned Abortion-on-Demand propaganda was a product, in large part, of Margaret Sanger, founder of Planned Parenthood and an elite American (married to oil tycoon Noah Slee). The perpetuation of the lie of ‘Reproductive Freedom’ has been championed, in particular, by America’s elite (of any race). It was an elitist mentality that forged the pseudoscience of eugenics, that drove America’s race-based segregationist Jim Crow laws, discriminatory immigration policy (i.e. Immigration Act of 1924) and was the bedrock of the Birth Control now-turned Abortion Industry. According to Planned Parenthood’s founder, Margaret Sanger, “we are paying for…an ever increasing, unceasingly spawning class of human beings who never should have been born at all.”²Her eugenic Birth Control philosophy, to prevent the ‘unfit’, ‘feeble-minded’, ‘poor’ or ‘unwanted’, would have eliminated Abraham Lincoln, George Washington Carver, Rosa Parks, Ben Carson, and Oprah Winfrey…just to name a few. Today, abortion kills more African-Americans, per year, than heart disease, cancer, respiratory disease, accidents, homicides, suicide, and cancer–combined.³Abortions in the black community occur at 3x the rate of those among the white population and 2x that of all other races combined.⁴ The truth screams loud and clear–we are killing our very future.

Though I'm only scratching the surface on this issue it's definitely got me thinking. What I liked about Loving Choices was that they do not condemn young women who are pregnant or have gotten an abortion. They offer support. They counsel young women throughout their pregnancy and they offer parenting classes and help them get diapers and car seats and formula. They offer free ultrasounds. They offer life.

Benefit #578

2011-11-01T11:01:00.006-05:00

Everybody knows that Benefit #578 of having children is that they will share their Halloween candy with their parents. It is followed closely by #579 (so they will one day show you how to use the new remote control) and #580 (to use their small stature to pick up things that have fallen under the table or in tight spaces).

Luke, you are going to have to step up your Halloween game. Don't get me wrong - you looked super cute and were very content the entire time we trick or treated. However, the fact that you have only two teeth, aren't eating solid foods, and cannot walk worked against you. Your mom felt really dumb following the other small toddlers up to the door with her little basket, hoping that the adults wouldn't notice and might put some candy in hers too.

It just didn't work. No one felt sorry for me except for me. And, I only got one everlasting gobstopper out of the whole night, and those are falsely advertised because I ate mine in a matter of minutes.

Don't worry. We will work on it, and next year we will come home with lots of candy for me. I mean, us.

Love You Forever - Children's Book Review

2011-10-23T19:19:00.003-05:00

A former co-worker got me this book called, "Love You Forever." I had read it a long time ago, but the other night I pulled it out to read to Luke. It starts out with a mom who's had a new baby, and she rocks him to sleep and sings,

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

As the baby grows up she continues to wait till he is "really asleep" and she picks him up and rocks him. As a little boy and a teenager the mom continues to do this.

After the page where he is a teenager it says,

"He grew until he was a grown-up man. He left home and got a house across town. But sometimes on dark nights the mother got into her car and drove across town. If all the lights in her son's house were out, she opened his bedroom window, crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed. If that great big man was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth." Then she sang the same song.

At that point, Luke and I had to stop reading. It just seemed kinda creepy to me. I mean, are we supposed to encourage codependency? Plus, that's a great way to get yourself shot by crawling through a bedroom window when all the lights are off. Don't do it at our house, that's for sure.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure I will always think of Luke as my baby, but if I get old and start sneaking in his house late at night, I expect him to go ahead and find a safe retirement home for me.

Plus, you find out later (spoiler alert) in the book that the guy has a kid. You might have been able to assume he wasn't married when she snuck in his house the first time. However, I think it just conveniently leaves out his wife who is obviously too tired from waking up with her new baby to hear the creepy intruder grandma.

Again, this is a boundaries violation. Cut the cord and stay out of the bedroom, Creepster GramGram.

Anyway, I just think Luke is too young to read about codependency, so that book will be staying on the shelf for a long, long time.

When Luke is 16...

2011-10-14T22:49:00.004-05:00

Mark and I plan to hide Luke's baby monitor in his room one night when he is sleeping. We will wait till about 3 a.m., and then we are going to cry like crazy. I mean, we will be inconsolable. He, of course, is going to freak out, and probably run in our room and try to get us to settle down. However, we will just refuse to be consoled - nothing is going to calm us. The more he tries, the more we will cry. We think it will be a good lesson in parenting, and as an added bonus maybe he will understand what it was like when he was a baby.

My Ethiopian Niece

2011-10-12T21:53:00.004-05:00

You know that friend that you call when something amazing happens in your life and you just want to talk to someone who will get excited about it with you? Or maybe it's not so amazing - maybe it's about how you backed into your husband's car, how your found out your cat was peeing on your dog's bed, how you can't figure out if your baby is teething or just cranky...

When I have a good story or just something that I want to share, I call my friend, Lindsay Hirth. Lindsay and I worked together just a few short months ago. In fact, she endured all of my cranky pregnant months - from the nauseated/throwing up days to the how the heck do my sweat pants not fit days. Coinciding with that was Mark going through police academy then field training then being on his own. She got to hear it all.

And even though neither one of us work where we did, we still talk about once every week or two because we still have to know what is going on in each other's lives, and let's be honest, we never run out of topics.

All this to say, that my friend, Lindsay, is going to be having another baby. She and her husband, Bob, are going to adopt a little girl from Ethiopia. She will turn their family of three with big brother, Hudson, into a family of four. Since Lindsay is like a sister to me, this means that I am about to have an Ethiopian niece.

Lindsay called me on Monday a little bit down and discouraged because the process is frustrating and the costs are adding up. She and Bob are trying to raise about $10,000 to cover travel costs. They thought they might raise $1,000 this week because they are the Give1Save1 family, but they had only raised a little over $100 at that point. Today, they are at $425, but still not even half way to their goal of a $1,000.

I don't usually use my blog to make donation requests, but I have absolutely no qualms about asking for donations to bring my Ethiopian niece home to her family. It will be amazing to see her join the Hirth family. If you can give a $1, $10, $15 or more - anything would be appreciated. Click here to donate. Or if you aren't comfortable with paypal, let me know, and I will send you the Hirth's address. And please let me know if you've donated. It means a lot to me to a part of something so BIG and so AMAZING.

Baby Food Hating and Rebathing

2011-09-22T21:14:00.003-05:00

Luke is not a big fan of baby food. He did not like the pears, and, well, see the video for his reaction to the sweet potatoes. The doctor told us that at this stage he really just needs to learn how to use a spoon, so I'm not too worried about it. However, I don't know whether to keep trying new kinds of baby food or not. Rice cereal hurt his stomach, but he didn't seem to object it as much.

Also, I realize that our nightly routine IS working. Apparently, Luke is linking his nightly bath with his bedtime. So today when I gave him an early bath at 4:00 p.m. He thought he was going down for the night at 4:45 p.m. (even though he'd only eaten at 2:00 p.m.) I could tell he was in a deep sleep when I finally woke him up at 6:00 p.m. When he finally woke up he didn't want to go back to bed. He was wide awake at 8:00 p.m., so I let him watch "the office" with me. He was still wide awake, so I decided a better give him another bath, so that he would go to sleep for the night. Well, like Pavlav's dog, he took his bath and went to sleep.

Yeah, I'm not going to be writing any parenting books anytime soon - unless they're about grace and do-overs.

As an update, Luke is now sleeping swaddle free. I am so glad. I had imagined how awkward it would be when he was 16 and we were still swaddling him. Awkward. And what would his friends think?

He CAN sleep through the night, though most night he sleeps till 5 a.m., eats, and then goes back to sleep till 7:30 or 8. This is a huge step for him though. Last month, we were trying to do so much at once. (Get him to stop middle of night feedings/waking up multiple times, going to bed awake without being rocked/walked around, and trying to get him to sleep swaddle free). So even though I'd love for him to sleep a full 12 hours, I will take it.

He is a healthy, growing boy, and I am one proud momma.

September 11th - My Account

2011-09-11T17:37:00.004-05:00

My journal account of September 11, 2001. I was a junior in high school.

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Today, I like most students went to school. I came in late to speech class and took a seat open by Bo Boschetti. We all laughed as we spoke to the class about another person in the class. After that class was over I went to my locker. However, on the way to my locker I noticed that people in the Jr. hallway were particularly excited today. I could see my friend Alison Tussey overreacting as she told a story. I shrugged it off and went up to her and told her that I had made a quote page in my b-ball binder. After I finished telling her about it she looked at me and said, "Have you not heard?"

I told her, "No, what?"

"The World Trade Center has been bombed."

I looked around and everyone was talking about it. I didn't really remember what all was told to me or when. It all kind of runs together. I went to my World History class and my teacher told everyone to pray "if they were so inclined to do so." We talked for a while and he told the boys in the class to start hurting their backs and knees so they wouldn't be drafted. I know this sounds terrible to tell a 16-year-old kids, but you have to know Mr. Cumming. He is a big man who often says cynical things.

I could not understand the magnitude of this event. In Spanish we wached the buildings as they burned (before they collapsed) and we heard about the Pentagon. One girl went home cause a plane crashed in the county that her father lived in. Rumors circulated that he died, but we soon found out that it was just a rumor.

Me and 6 of my girlfriends went to my house for "off campus lunch" & watched tv. Four planes were hijacked. One crashed into Tower I of the World Trade Center. The other crashed into Tower II. Both buildings ended up collapsing & setting adjacent buildings on fire. One plane crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. Some speculated it was en route to Camp David. The other plane crashed into the Pentagon.

My friend Michelle Carney was in D.C. on the Arkansas Baptist Jr. Class trip. They were in line to go to the White House when they were told to run. They ran and saw smoke from the Pentagon. Michelle snapped some pictures. She was shaken up pretty badly, but they were all ok.

Now I'm trying to collect my thoughts. I'm shocked, hurt, and mad. Everyone on tv said it looked like something out of a movie. But why? Why would anyone "bomb" the U.S. All this time I thought our nation was impenetrable. How could this happen? It is worse than Pearl Harbor and its the only big attack on the continental U.S. ever. I can only ask God to comfort me and many other ppl.

I don't understand it all. I'm afraid I never will. People are saying this is the end times. I thought one day I would have kids and grow up. - Now, I'm not so sure. I need to trust in the Good Shepherd though. For w/o Him I am nothing.

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Challenges, Solutions, and Grace

2011-09-09T21:52:00.004-05:00

Well, Luke will be 5-months-old on the 14th, and for the first time it is hard to believe. The first few months went by S-L-O-W. Lack of sleep and cranky baby/cranky mom can make the days feel long. But this last month has gone by so fast. Granted, we took a vacation to Gulf Shores, and vacations always go by fast, but other days must have gone by quickly too.

Luke's little personality is starting to come out. He is giggling now, and I think heaven might be paved with baby giggles though I have no theological backing for such a belief. Contrarily, I've read it's paved with gold, yet I make my point none the less. Sometimes when he smiles it reminds me of talking to foreigners in another country. They have no idea what your saying, but they smile politely, and other times he laughs like I've just told him an inside joke. Apparently, I am hilarious when I eat a hamburger. Perhaps I'll make a vlog and post it to see if ya'll think it's as funny as he does.

I can't explain how crazy I am about this little boy. My heart just isn't big enough for all the love I have for him. He's become my little sidekick. My little bringer of the morning.

This month has had its new share of challenges too.

1. We tried rice cereal three times. He awoke crying both nights we gave it to him, so we tried it at breakfast, just in case it was just a fluke that he cried those nights. That day he cried on and off for 6 hours. Apparently, it makes him constipated.

Solution: We are just waiting till he's 6 months to start solids.

2. Also, he still needs to be swaddled like a crazy person in a straight jacket every night. Four nights ago we tried putting him to bed unswaddled. He woke up crying (his angry cry) seven times. I really don't want to swaddle him any more because he's rolled from his back to his tummy once, and it scares me that he will roll on his tummy in his sleep and won't be able to roll back over.

Solution: I am trying the Angelcare monitor one more time. Yes, the Angelcare monitor that robbed me of sleep in my early motherhood days (as if I'm in the late motherhood days now?) In fact, it is on right now as I write. I did put a piece of cardboard under the monitor, which I'm hoping will help it work.

3. Luke feels like he is being punished when we make him endure tummy time. Even though he can roll from his tummy to his back pretty easily. It's like he forget that he can do it, and it just kinda hurts his feelings that you would do that to him. He may be a late bloomer since tummy time helps them learn to feel comfortable and builds their muscles so they can crawl. He has recently tried to scoot on his back, pushing himself with his legs and arching his back. So, perhaps he will reverse crawl. That would be interesting.

Solution: Continue doing tummy time and remember that no one remembers crying as a baby.

4. Month four brought a whole new sleep regression problem. Luke started waking frequently in early August. For a while we thought he was sick, then hungry, then maybe sick again? Four-months marks increased development, and I've read that babies have some sleep regression when they hit this milestone.

Solution: Lots of prayer and tag team parenting. Oh, and we were gone a lot in August, so we will be staying home all of September, so Luke can get used to the routine again. We've had two nights this week where he slept through the night (tightly swaddled).

These past few months have been tough, and a lot of that has to do with struggling with a little postpartum depression. The good news is that I have felt God's presence more than ever these last few weeks. Yes, even during the 6 hours of crying. I feel His closeness, and I am thankful for it. Being a mom has definitely shown me my weaknesses, and though I wanted to hide them and pretend that all was good, through my weaknesses I've felt God's strength. (So thankful to work through this concept with a close friend of mine). :)

I forget that grace is undeserved - that I'm not entitled to good days. I'm learning to thank God for the growth. Why do we have to grow when we are being stretched the most? When the days are hard? But have you ever heard a truly beautiful story of grace that didn't include challenges and hardships?

C.S. Lewis said, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in ourpains: It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world”.

Thank you, God, for loving me enough to make life hard sometimes, so that I might seek you and know you.

Coping

2011-09-03T20:20:00.003-05:00

Well, I know what you all are wondering - How is Maybe doing now that Dexter is gone? Maybe has been a little sad these days. When Dexter was here she used to stand by the porch and wait for us to let her in his room. Now that he's not there she doesn't care to go in there. She does lay down right beside the room. I think she's hoping he will just reappear. However, She usually nestles up to her new best friend, Stone Cat. She seriously sits by this little cat statue off and on all throughout the day. Mark and I have decided that we are going to move Stone Cat from its place to see if she will follow it and sit by it if its in another location. (Yeah, we have really exciting lives). :)

The Twins are Home

2011-09-02T20:24:00.004-05:00

Harrison and Oliver Hardin got to leave the hospital today and go home. I know that Autumn and Daniel are overjoyed. These little guys entered the world on June 16th. Their little momma was 26 weeks pregnant with them. They both weighed 2.1 pounds (see picture below). They are leaving the hospital at over 5 pounds.

They sleep side by side every night, and Harrison likes to have his hand on Oliver's back (when he can get it un-swaddled).

Mark and I got to hold them last week, and they are tiniest, sweetest little babies ever. We are just so thankful to God for all that He has done to get them where they are. When we first heard that they were coming, we didn't think they would make it. It just seemed impossible, but God is in the business of turning the impossible into the possible. They are truly miracles.

Motherhood 101

2011-08-11T15:57:00.004-05:00

Ready or not here they come. In the last few weeks I've had several friends join me on the journey of motherhood, and it has me thinking about what I've learned in the last four months.

In most jobs you have the advantage of learning the ropes before you start a hard project - a sort of grace period where your co-workers and peers expect you will learn what to do in time. But there is no trial run when you become a mom. You are thrown in the deep end, and suddenly a little life depends completely and utterly on you. All your former priorities are thrust into the back seat, at least temporarily. If you thought that in pregnancy you were sleep deprived then having a new baby makes you wish you could have that much sleep again.

You expected (or at least I did) that you would have some innate knowledge that would kick into effect - a mother's intuition that would guide you and baby to a beautiful symbiotic relationship. You read books hoping to find the answer to "fix" the baby, but even if you swaddle, shhh, swing, give them a pacifier, they still cry. Even when you work towards a routine of eat, activity, sleep, they still wake up at different times and in different moods.

It's tiring and hard and sometimes very isolating. You look at pictures on facebook of people vacationing or doing summer things and wonder if you will ever do them again. And then you feel guilty for thinking that, knowing that you should appreciate your baby and remember these fleeting moments.

But there is hope and does get better. The beginning is the hardest and since I'm not past 4-months I won't venture to say what the rest of the year will be like, but what I've learned is this...

It's okay to not have the answers. Even if you google all your problems you will get a myriad of answers. To cry it out or to not cry it out? To co-sleep or not? To breast feed or bottle feed? And if you ask different people they will give you different answers too, and, ultimately, you have to decide what is best for you and your baby. And unless you live on a reality TV show or blog about your decisions no one will know what you choose. What worked for them may not work for you and vice versa. When Luke is crying and Mark asks what's wrong - I don't have to know.

There is a tendency to shoot for perfection in motherhood, as if any other job expects that. And when you can give it up that you aren't going to be perfect and you are going to make mistakes - well, there's a lot of freedom in that.

People often say "It's not my first rodeo," meaning they've done something before. Well, in this case, it is my first rodeo. And the whole goal of a rodeo is to stay on a bucking bronco or bull for 8 seconds before you fall off. So if I figure if I can be the kind of mom I should be 8 seconds of the day then I must be doing pretty good. :)

Seek out advice from other moms even if you don't use the advice. It's good to think through things and get encouragement. I've learned a lot more from other moms than I have from reading books. Sometimes it's just nice to hear that they've been there too.

If it's not crazy hot, go for walks and get some exercise. It can bring some good perspective.

Find encouraging scripture and memorize it. Use the middle of the night feedings to pray. It is amazing how much more focus you can have on prayer at 2 a.m.

One of the main things I've learned is what not do. I learn this every day in multiple ways. I will try something and think - "Well, that didn't work." And what works one day won't work the next, and sometime you can recycle ideas that weren't working and suddenly they start to work.

I realize I'm no expert here. I spent the last 2 or 3 hours trying to comfort Luke to no avail. He woke up from his nap upset and went to bed upset. I ate two pickles and then some oatmeal for dinner because I don't want to put any more energy than necessary into making something. It was that kind of night.

I really am so thankful to God for my Luke. I realize that God is using Luke to shape me and to rid me of selfishness. AND I can be a good mom because "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

Dexter

2011-07-28T20:28:00.008-05:00

I am Dr. Kevorkian. We put down our dog, my dog, Sweet Dexter Chocolate Cake Jr. My heart is heavy. I wish I could say we didn't have a choice, but we did. For the past few months Dexter has suffered from arthritis. He started falling down a few weeks ago, and we took him to the emergency vet when he couldn't get up. They gave us some medicine, and he did better for awhile. But the medicine was expensive and would continue to add up, so when he started falling again we decided it was time. I feel like a dog killer. I keep telling myself that it was the right thing, but the truth is that I don't know if it was. He was an 11-year-old lab with severe arthritis, but I wouldn't want the plug pulled on me over arthritis.

I feel very guilty, but the sad thing is that I know Dexter would've forgiven me. He was just that kind of dog. And so, it is that I write, with tears streaming down my face, the eulogy of a dear friend and the most slobbery dog I ever knew.

Dexter came into my life at a vulnerable time. I was 15 and awkward, suffering from adolescent-induced acne and living the first season of lonely egg syndrome (it is like empty nest syndrome except when you are the only baby bird left in the nest and all the other birds have flown off to college). My parents had said that they weren't going to get any more dogs even though I begged every birthday and Christmas. It was the Christmas of 1999 and my pleas for a dog fell on deaf ears, so I decided to write a puppy thesis, a written essay that explained my need for a dog. The two-page document went into detail about my desire to learn responsibility from having a puppy and included my history of taking care of our other animals and on and on.

I wrote, "Out of all the presents I could receive this year only this one would be able to interact with me and give me a companion. I desire companions more so now than ever because all my siblings have gone off to their colleges. This dog's companionship would fill this empty void to an extent...I only have so many years at home with my parents and then like my siblings I too will go off to college. That is why I wish for a dog now because I still have time to grow up with him and we could learn together and benefit each other."

That January I picked out Dexter from a litter of chocolate labs, and he came home to live with me. Through my high school years he was dear companion. He would watch me pole vault in the backyard, and after practice I would wrestle with him on the pole vaulting pit. I taught him how to sit and stay. His fancy trick was when I would put a treat on his nose, and he would stay until I gave the command and then throw the treat up in the air and catch it in his mouth. He was every bit the companion that I thought he would be.

When I left for college Dexter stayed behind. I would get so excited pulling in my driveway on trips home. Dexter would stand on a bench where he could see over the fence and bark at me. He wagged his tail so vigorously that his whole body would move from side to side with its shaking.

Recently, Dexter got to move to Springdale and live in his retirement home with me and Mark. He had his own bed and a little room on the patio with his very own AC unit. He would bark and let us know if he needed it turned on or off. When Maybe joined the family Dexter was very excited about his new little friend. He never growled at her, but then again he never growled at anyone. It wasn't in his nature. Even when Maybe started using his bed as a litter box, Dexter never complained.

The past few months have been hard on Dexter. His aging body just couldn't keep up with his puppy heart. This spring (before he got really bad) he spent his days digging up our backyard, trying to get rid of groundhogs. He would bark at the holes he had dug, and his back legs would finally get weary and he would lie down, stick his whole nose in the hole, and continue to bark.

That was Dexter's favorite hobby. The dog loved to bark - perhaps too much and definitely to the detriment of the neighbors. He could bark at anything and nothing. I don't know who he was talking to or what he was saying, but he said it loud and clear. Over and over. Perhaps he was a yoda of dogs, teaching dogs how to love their owners like he loved me.

He loved to slobber too. It just came naturally. He was like the dog in Turner and Hooch. If you pet him you could be sure that you would be washing your hands up to your elbows. You couldn't wear nice clothes around him either.

He had a smell that could clear a room. This got worse with age, but he wore it like a badge of courage. When I was pregnant I couldn't enter his room without holding my breath because it made me nauseous.

He was the dog movies are made about, more faithful than Lassie and more courageous than Old Yeller. If there is a dog heaven Dexter is in it, and he's barking and digging. I hope for the other dogs' sake that he doesn't smell, but if he does they won't mind. His friendship is worth it. He's the best dog there ever was. Be at peace my sweet dog friend.

The Real Me or the New Me

2011-07-17T13:34:00.007-05:00

Getting woken up in the middle of the night is pretty normal for any new mom. However, it's usually your baby that wakes you up. However, both boys in our little family are responsible for middle of the night wake up calls. I have mentioned previously about Mark's night terrors. In fact, it was one of Mark's night terrors that woke me up when I was just starting to have contractions.

Night terrors are different than bad dreams. Wikipedia has a good explanation. Mark will sit straight up in bed and turn the light on. His eyes are wide open, but he isn't really there. Most of the time he can't remember this happening. He confuses reality with fiction.

Sometimes nothing triggers it. Other times the slightest movement or sound will startle him. This was the case last night.

Luke woke me up at 2:16 a.m. I had fed him and was getting back in bed when Mark turned on the light and looked at me like I was an intruder. He asked me a question, but I didn't understand what he'd said. I said, "What?" He asked, "Is it the real you or the new you?"

I think I started laughing and said that it was the "real me." I tried to reach out and comfort him, but he grabbed my wrist and held my arm away from him like I was a diseased animal or something. His eyes were still wide. I started smiling at him, and he said, "Stop that." At this point I was a little concerned that he didn't have a good grasp of reality, so I said. "No, you stop it, and turn off the light." I could tell that even as he turned out the light he was worried that I still wasn't the "real me."

This morning he said he didn't remember any of it, but then on our way to church he said that he did remember thinking that I was a vampire. When I smiled at him he was afraid that I was showing him my vampire teeth and when I reached out for him, he thought I was going to bite his arm.

Apparently, Mark watched a few zombie/vampire movies the last time I left town, and now he is fearful of me. Awesome.

The conversation that we had was the funniest that I've had with him during a night terror. This ranks in the top three night terror situations that we've had together. I will say that it does freak me out a little bit, but I've lived through all of them and the guns aren't by his night stand anymore.

Other "good" night terror stories are as follows:

1. The Night Gnomes. These would fall into a series of night terrors - not just one incident. Night Gnomes are the ones that open drawers and closet doors during the night. They are also known to move shoes and other various articles of clothing. However, I have not been able to document their movements, though I've tried. Apparently, they only mess with Mark and his stuff.

2. The Cloverfield Incedent. I will always remember our first anniversary. It is marked by one of the most traumatic night terrors. On that night we had the great idea to watch a "scary" movie about a bug-like creature and smaller creatures that attack New York City. (Yes, it was quite the romance movie for an anniversary). The smaller creatures were about the size of great danes, and they were pretty gross. That night I was awoken to Mark stomping his night stand. His night stand is pretty high, and he was coming down full force to the point that I thought he would break his leg. When he was certain the creature was dead, or when he realized it was only a night stand, he got back in bed and went to sleep.

3. The Snake in Our Bed. Fortunately for me, this is the only time that I can recall being struck by my husband. He felt something brush past his leg. It was logically a snake, so he sat up in bed and waited for it to move again. When the snake leg moved Mark was ready with his fist and punched the snake. I sat up and yelled and couldn't understand why my husband had just punched me. By this time, the danger being over, Mark had already fallen back asleep. Nice.

I never know what my nights are going to hold. I might be confused for a snake or a vampire. I might find my husband fighting off invisible creatures and the furniture. I might interrupt his search for those pesky night gnomes. Or Luke might decide that he is hungry or needs help falling back to sleep. You just never know, but the real me needs more sleep that is for sure.

Please leave a comment and let me know what your favorite night terror story is.

Roulette Date Night

2011-07-13T16:04:00.003-05:00

I should have known better, but some people have to learn lessons over and over again. Never forget that the house always wins.

Last night Mark and I took a much needed date night. I've quickly learned that once you have kids, date nights become a necessity. It is nice to be able to look each other in the eyes every once in a while. This last week I had been feeling particularly mom-ish and not in a good way.

Summer is my favorite time of year, but it is a lot harder to enjoy when you are taking care of an infant. I used to live for the summer - swimming, hiking, wake boarding, staying up late, sitting on the porch, etc. My days aren't quite spent the same anymore, and that is okay. But it can be hard on me.

You see when I was in high school I took a personality test at Fellowship. I am an energizer. They used to call it a "rebel." Basically, I like to have fun, and it is a very real need for me. I subconsciously judge people and things by how fun they are. I tend to be a little rebellious and define myself by what I am not. I look for opportunities to be spontaneous.

And now as defined by the personality profile...

"Fun loving, spontaneous and creative, your strong Energizer part brings energy and excitement to any situation or relationship in which you are involved. With a knack for having fun, being yourself and expressing yourself openly, your contagiously adventuresome spirit has no doubt led you on some unlikely escapades. You have little tolerance for boredom and are quick to let people know what you like and don't like. You are like to be musically and/or artistically inclined, always delving and exploring a new craft, art form or slightly off the wall hobby. You have the ability to see humor in almost anything and to make even the dullest task fun. You enjoy each moment as it unfolds rather than simply focusing on the end results. You live in the "now" and have a zest for life that reflects the Joy of Christian fellowship. Your energy, humor, and warmth can be a powerful magnet, attracting people to share in the joy and freedom you have found."

All that to say, I haven't been much of my energizer self lately. It is hard to be spontaneous when you have a baby on a schedule (unless you are willing to tolerate screaming). It is hard to find time for those off the wall hobbies (I haven't been pole vaulting lately). It's hard to see humor in daily tasks when you are doing most of those tasks on your own without an adult to talk to.

I'm trying to help you (and me) understand why I did what I did. Last night Mark and I started are date night off at Red Robin. Mark was interested in going to a movie, but really the last thing I want to do right now is go to a movie. I can watch all the movies I want at home (with a crying baby but still...)

That's when I had the great idea to do something a little spontaneous, maybe even a little "rebellious," and that is how we ended up driving to West Siloam Springs to Cherokee Casino. It was either that or play laser tag with 12-year-olds. In hind sight the laser tag was probably the better option.

After walking around a noisy, smoke-filled casino with lots of blinking lights, we ended up at the roulette table. We should have known from the 2009 Cruise with our dear friends Hillary and Tony that this was a bad idea, but it's my favorite casino game.

We started out well. It was fun. I was winning. It was landing on black when I needed it to. We were having fun. Then I started losing some, so Mark bought in and started playing. He was doing well. He got up by $30 dollars. We should have left. We didn't. We lost and lost some more.

I am the same person that never buys clothes because of the money and hates paying for movies and going out to eat. I am a saver, so I'm embarrassed to say how much money we threw down the drain. So that no one takes Luke away, it was less than $100.

We left the casino feeling beaten, talking about how we should have left when we were up. We are so dumb, and this was right after we'd just heard a sermon about being good stewards of our money and giving generously. Mark made the remark that we did help the Cherokee Nation, so that they can continue to build ridiculous casinos that people will go to and lose their money.

I got it out of my system. I learned my lesson. We are dumb, but I am feeling a little less mom-ish today.

The View

2011-07-01T15:23:00.005-05:00

Mistakes happen. I realize that, but some mistakes you just can't take back, and this was one of them.

It all happened today. I had been watching Regis and Kelly on ABC. I changed Luke's diaper and then handed him off to Mark to let him take care of him for a little bit.

That's when it happened. I walked back in the living room and was horrified to find my 11-week-old son watching, The View. I mean of all the shows that my son could be exposed to - there's hardly a worse one.

Mark and I had to have one of those "get on the same page" convos that parents have sometimes...

"I mean really, Mark, "The View?" Why don't you just let the Obamas raise our son?"

Oliver and Harrison

2011-06-23T17:42:00.008-05:00

Thank you all for praying for my twin nephews. Last Thursday, we didn't know if they would make it, but they are alive and doing as well as possible. They had echo cardiograms of their hearts yesterday. They spotted a couple of areas in their hearts that they thought would fix themselves in time. Then today they had scans of their brains to check for bleeding. The scans came back clear. There wasn't any bleeding. These are all huge praises. Autumn and Daniel are taking one day at a time. They are truly in awe of how God saved these baby boys.

Autumn is anesthesiologist at Baptist Hospital and Daniel is finishing his last year of family practice residency in Pine Bluff. They were just hanging out at my parent's house last week when everything happened. Autumn was sitting in the kitchen, and my mom said she got this shocked look on her face. She stood up and water gushed out. She called for Daniel, and he picked her up and carried her to the car. She said they were both shaking like leaves and crying. Autumn had recently been on two cases where they'd lost 24-week-old babies, so she wasn't at all naive.

They got her to the hospital and gave her IVs and a steroid shot for the boys. All the nurses and doctors were encouraging, telling her that the babies could live and that she would be okay. The next day she started having contractions, and they did everything they could to stop her labor, but the boys came anyway on Thursday night.

Both of them weighed 2 lbs. 1 oz., which was amazing becaus

e they thought one of them weighed just 1 lb. Please continue to pray that they would do well and eventually be able to come off the ventilators. They are so tiny, smaller than a lot of baby dolls. The pictures don't really do it justice. The little monkey in the picture with Oliver is 7 inches long.

Prayer Alert

2011-06-16T13:50:00.003-05:00

Please be praying for my sister-in-law, Autumn. She is 26 weeks and 4 days pregnant with twins, Oliver and Harrison. Her water broke last night while she was at my parents house. She is at Baptist Hospital being monitored. We are all praying that she will be able to keep the babies inside for as long as possible. They want to give her another round of steroids tonight at 9 p.m. This will help the babies' lungs develop.

One of the amniotic sacs broke and the other did not. They are estimating that one baby weighs 1.14 lbs. and the other 2.7 lbs. Oliver is the tinier one, and he's also the one that isn't in the sac.

Please pray for peace that passes all understanding to surround Autumn and Daniel. Pray that the babies will stay where they are and that Autumn will not get fever/infection.

That's Not A Crime...

2011-06-12T18:39:00.005-05:00

Apparently, text messaging has created some gray areas as to what is and isn't a crime. A few months ago Mark was called to investigate a terroristic threatening incident. An elderly lady was apparently threatened when she received a text message from an unknown number. She showed Mark and another officer the symbols that were sent to her phone, which included a colon followed by a parenthesis. They informed the woman that they wouldn't be taking any action since no crime had been committed and she had been sent a smiley face, which was not terroristic threatening. :)

Today Mark was working at the police station taking calls and helping anyone who came into the station. A woman came into the station and told Mark that she had asked her best friend, Barbara, to never text her again.

Barbara had texted her one time after that. Mark told her that he wouldn't take any action because (once again) no crime had been committed. She asked Mark if he wouldn't mind calling Barbara and telling her not to text her anymore. Mark said that he wouldn't, and perhaps he should have added that junior high school is over.

Anyway, Mark has lots of stories like this. I'm thinking of making it a weekly or monthly segment, so let me know if you'd like to hear more "That's Not A Crime" stories.

Cousins

2011-06-10T15:19:00.007-05:00

A few weeks ago my sister brought her kids Avery (3) and Elijah (1) up to visit Luke. My niece, Avery, is the funniest kid ever. She is three going on 30. She talks in very complete sentences . The first thing she did when she came into the house was go up to Luke and look at him. Then she looked at me. "Your baby is so cute, Jenny," she said with a smile. Later she was in the bathroom, checking out my bathtub, and she said. "Your soap is pretty, and your baby is cute." Why, thank you, Avery.

Mark met us at the park, but when he pulled up he briefly turned on his sirens, thinking that Avery would like it. She said it was too loud though and really didn't want to get too close to Mark. I think his uniform and everything intimidated her a little. This was as close as she got.

We have lots and lots of fun Avery stories. I could probably make a whole blog about them. She recently told my mom, "Grammie, you are incredible. You have a destiny!"

A Whole Post About High Tech Baby Monitors - You've Been Warned

2011-06-07T14:16:00.009-05:00

One day in the future new moms will have life like robots that bring them their baby when it is time for the baby to eat. It will be like on the Jetsons, except much creepier, and anyone who is anyone will have one. They will automatically check your baby's temperature and change their diapers and do the chores.

However, the precursor to that is the baby monitor. In the olden days you left your door open and the baby's door open so you could hear your baby cry, but today we have the baby monitor - essentially a one way radio that allows your babies cries to reverberate into your room.

Baby monitors have evolved recently, and new moms have the opportunity to do more than just hear their baby cry. Two types of monitors that go above and beyond the crying call of duty are the Angel Care Baby Monitor and the Summer Video Monitor.

I have now tried both, so without further ado, here is my customer feedback.

***The Angel Care Baby Monitor***

I was told by several friends that I had to have an Angel Care Monitor. This device allows you to monitor your child's breathing. You put an electronic pad under the baby mattress and that links up with your baby monitor. It will send an alarm to your baby monitor if it "thinks" that your baby has stopped breathing. It has three settings. One setting will make a beep for every time that your baby breathes and will sound the alarm if breathing stops. The other setting doesn't beep for every breath, but will set off the alarm if breathing stops, and finally the third setting acts like a regular baby monitor, allowing you to hear noise but does not track the breathing.

***The Summer Infant Video Monitor***

My mom introduced me to the Summer Video Monitor. As a seasoned Grammie veteran, she bought the Summer Best View Handheld Color Video Monitor. This camera can be attached above the crib, and you can move it with the handheld remote and monitor. It even allows you to zoom in on you baby. It has a range of 400 ft., so you aren't stuck in one place. Basically, you can watch your baby from another room, and the picture quality is great.

Originally, we went with the Angelcare Baby Monitor. I thought it would make me feel better to know that an alarm would sound if Luke stopped breathing. However, the first time I used it we had three false alarm within a couple of hours. This was during the first couple of weeks when sleep is so precious, and it worried me that the alarm would wake him up. At one point the alarm gave a warning beep that it was about to go off, so I ran into Luke's room and changed the setting so that it wouldn't go off and wake him up. I got back into bed, and I realized that I hadn't even checked to see if he wasn't breathing, which was the whole point of the alarm in the first place. So then I ran back into his room, and, of course, he was breathing. I adjusted the settings because I realized they were being overly sensitive. He probably just wasn't right on top of the sensor, but after another false alarm, my Angelcare Monitor became just a regular non-angel monitor where we just heard him. So basically, it was giving me more anxiety instead of taking it away.

Another negative about the Angelcare monitor is that when it isn't plugged in, it runs off batteries, and the batteries on ours are already really low after 7 weeks. Whereas the Summer Monitor's batteries work like a cell phone. Whenever it is plugged in, the battery recharges.

When I went home to visit my family in Little Rock, I "stole" the Summer Monitor that my mom had bought for our lake house.

It is funny though because there are time when I could swear he is sleeping because I haven't heard a peep, but then I look at the monitor and he is moving his arms and legs and looking around. It definitely saves me trips back and forth between my room and his.

At this point, my only reader is probably Lauren Kelley. (Hillary told me you wanted to know what I thought about the Angelcare Monitor). I hope you enjoyed my review and that you start feeling better soon. :)

Update and Advice

2011-06-05T11:36:00.005-05:00

Mark and I could really use some extra hands on deck to help with Luke. We have tried and tried to teach Maybe how to give Luke a bottle, but since she lacks opposable thumbs it is quite the challenge. As much as she would like to help, her little cat paws just won't do the trick.

Dexter would be glad to give Luke some slobber baths, but that wouldn't be helpful either. I guess, it's just me and Mark who will have to raise this boy. He is starting to sleep a lot longer like from 9 p.m. to 5 a.m., and that is definitely good for everybody.

Here two tips that Mark and I would like to pass onto other new parents.

1. If your baby is crying and your just trying to eat some dinner. Just put him on top of the table, using the baby clothes that Aunt Liz sent to prop him up. That will be comfortable for him and give you approximately 30 seconds to 2 minutes of extra time to eat.

2. If you really need some extra sleep, "forget" to turn on the baby monitor. That night Luke slept from 9 p.m. to 7 a.m.**(Ok, that really was an accident, and I woke up at 4ish and realized the baby monitor had only been running on batteries and had gone out, and I plugged it back in. He was still asleep.)

Yeah, just ask us if you need some parenting advice.

In actuality, Luke has had a rough couple of days. I think we are dealing with a growth spurt. He is ALWAYS hungry, and he's not happy about it. He wakes up from his naps screaming, instead of giving us a few warning calls that he is awake. And that would be okay if his naps were lasting longer. They are pretty short, and it is tiring for everyone. At least we are getting good sleep at night.

Hope

2011-05-23T15:24:00.007-05:00

Taking more deep breaths and crossing my fingers - that's what I'm doing these days. We've had three nights in a row with 5+ hours of sleep at a time followed by 2 or 3 more, and I hear it gets better in a few weeks/months. :)

I spent the first 2 or 3 weeks wondering if I had any mothering instincts at all. The first two weeks he slept so much (just not in long stretches) that it gave me a false sense of security to some degree. He seemed to "wake up" around week three, and I really didn't know what to do. It took me two or three days to realize that he might be going through a growth spurt since he wanted to eat ALL THE TIME. It was frustrating and hard. To be honest, I wanted to just take a vacation - go to the beach or somewhere - anywhere - just to be by myself. I felt unglued - like a crazy person, and it was all during that insane bout of rain that lasted forever. I kept thinking of the song that says, "Gee, I'm glad it's raining, so they don't see the tear drops when you cry."

Why didn't people tell me this about having a baby? I guess they don't want to rob you of that joy, or maybe they try, you just don't listen? Or maybe it's just me. I know now (and knew in the back of my head then) that it was the baby blues - that my hormones were out of control, but it didn't make it easier. It didn't make me feel like a good mom.

But things have changed, slowly almost imperceptibly. I hear his cries and I can categorize

them. Even more - I can soothe them. I am amazed every time that it works. He starts crying (the kind of cry that tells me he needs help going to sleep), and I can pick him up, rock him, and sing 5 to 10 rounds of "I love you, Lord," put him back in the crib, close the door, turn the baby monitor on in our room, and go to sleep. It really is amazing. I can't believe that it works. Sometimes it only works for a little while, but most of the time it is all he needs. If you've ever heard me sing then, you would really wonder how it could soothe anyone, much less a baby.

Mark has bought into it too. He used to sing all sorts of random songs, but when he really tries to put Luke to sleep - it's "I love you, Lord" that has proven to work.

Luke is 5.5 weeks today. Supposedly, babies are supposed to smile at (or around) this time. Either Luke is a very solemn child, or he hasn't reached that milestone yet - but not for lack of trying on our part. Mark and I have always thought that we are both pretty funny, but Luke doesn't seem to think so. He looks very perplexed as we joke and hold baby toys and make funny noises. What if he has no sense of humor? We've asked that several times. Sometimes he will give us a half smiles - little Elvis grins from one side of his mouth, but we are still waiting on that full fledged gummy smile - the kind that you know doesn't come from gas.

We are also still waiting to find out what really interests are little guy. As some of you know, Mark was an avid Star Wars fan in high school. My sister-in-law Autumn bought Luke a Star Wars onesie. I put it on him the other day, and he promptly pooped on it. I mean he really let it have it. It's okay, Luke, I think Star Wars is pretty crappy too.

It's really impressive how many outfits he can go through in a day. Yesterday, he went to church for the first time. Naturally, he wore the blue and white polo outfit that his Aunt Beth got him (pictured below). It lasted 30 minutes before it was wet. Mark picked out a blue and white striped prison onesie (at least that's what it looked like) instead. He lacked all style as he made his church debut - what a pity.

As the weeks have gone by my heart has swelled with more and more love for this baby boy. My little swamp thing has captured my heart. I find myself missing him if he naps for too long. (Don't worry it doesn't make me wake him up). I love listening to his contented baby sounds and watching him take the world in one day at a time.

I know there will still be "bad days" to come and that I will doubt myself again and again, but I think I'm finding that light at the end of the tunnel. "His faithfulness is new every morning." I've found hope, and I'm holding onto it with all I've got.

My Husband, My Hero

2011-05-15T16:26:00.007-05:00

It's days like today that I think about how much life has changed this past year. Mark was almost two hours late from getting off his shift. He is sometimes an hour late, but after two hours I was starting to get worried. I checked my phone, and had a text from him - "Drug bust. Im ok. Gonna be late."

So while I'm at my quiet (because Luke is sleeping) home Mark is out busting criminals. It's like we live in separate worlds during the day. Yesterday he chewed out a lady after she called him a "dumb ass" and tried to get him to stop testing her husband to see if he was under the influence. I wish I could reenact the story, but basically he yelled at her and told her - "If you don't get back in your car right now, I'm going to arrest you for interfering with government operations." Yeah, that is my husband. He has a new cop face that he puts on when he goes to work. It's like a whole new Mark. He tells me these things, and I have a hard time imagining them.

He is my hero. Not for being a cop, though I am proud of him, but for giving Luke a bottle at night just so that I can get more sleep and things like that. He is an excellent husband and father, and I am blessed. I don't know how single moms make it. I need Mark. I can't do it without him. He is encouraging and supportive, and he is a real man. I'm so grateful to God for giving me Mark as a husband. Luke has no idea what a great dad he has, but he will find out soon enough.

To Sleep...Perchance to Dream

2011-05-09T17:24:00.004-05:00

Luke gave me a great Mother's Day gift last night - the gift of a little sleep. Mark gave him a bottle at 10ish, and he slept until 4:30 a.m. Thank you, Luke. I needed that. I feel like I can be the kind of mother and wife that I want to be when I have enough sleep. I feel like I can make it.

Today's highlights included taking a shower, taking a walk, and going to the park to shoot the basketball with Mark and one of his cop friends. It is nice to get out even if it means less predictability with Luke's routine. I haven't taken him a lot of places because I never know what version of him I'm going to get, but I have to get over that.

Thanks for all the advice and encouragement from my mom readers. Basically, I took away from the comments that I just need to be a little more adaptable and little less uptight

and just have the "come what may" attitude. Easier said than done, but we are working towards it. It's funny because I usually am so laid back. Being a mom has brought all my Type A-ness to the surface.

So here's to letting go (I just took a shot of hard liquor). Here's to being the type of mom that can go with the flow (took another shot). I see why some stay at home moms become alcoholics...

Just kidding. I didn't take any shots. Please, people you know me better than that. I've got a baby to worry about, and I don't really like alcohol anyway.

And here's a picture. Just so you can see my sweet baby boy. His shirt says Lil' Kid Super Powers. We think it's funny...

So Tired...

2011-05-06T11:35:00.003-05:00

I probably shouldn't blog right now - not in my sleep deprived state, not when Luke needs me to put his pacifier back in every 30 seconds, not when I can barely think. Today is one of those days - the kind where I don't know if I will make it to the "sleep through the night stage," which is supposedly only 3 to 4 weeks away. If only I had a nanny to take care of him from 7 to 12 a.m. then maybe I could do it.

Mark has been amazing these last 3 weeks. He has actually been giving Luke a bottle at 11 p.m. or 12 a.m., so that I can get a little bit of solid sleep with the baby monitor off. It works well for us. I feel like I can handle a new day when I get just that little bit of sleep. Here's the problem though - it's hard on Mark. He gets up at 4:45 a.m., so his sleep isn't what it should be either. So last night I told him I thought I could do it - that he could go on to sleep while I bravely took care of our child.

For whatever reason, Luke doesn't like sleeping from 7 to 12. He is fussy and acts like he's still hungry no matter how much he's eaten. I actually got him to calm down and sleep around 11:30 p.m., but I'm still exhausted today. I thought he would sleep from 10:30 a.m to 12:15 (and, therefore, allow me a nap), but here I am typing on the computer, sitting beside him, trying to keep him calm and putting his pacifier back in over and over.

So here are my confessions:

1. Being a mom is a LOT harder than I could have ever imagined. I really don't know how my mom had 5 kids.

2. I'm having a hard time enjoying this stage because being sleep deprived makes me want him to be just a little bit older, so that he will sleep through the night.

3. Everyone says to sleep when your baby sleeps, but that is a frustrating statement. I also have to eat, perhaps take a shower, and even enter the outside world every once in a while.

4. I feel really guilty for having Mark take over a shift when he has to wake up so early and when I know that he needs to be awake for his job.

5. Dexter may or may not get to go outside to go to the bathroom when he wants. It all depends on what is going on.

6. I finally see the need for DVR.

7. I'm trying to get this guy on a routine, but it's way harder than the books make it out to be.

8. I may have a low tolerance for crying. His crying makes me feel utterly defeated when I know he shouldn't be hungry, dirty, or in pain/sick.

That's all I'm going to list. I really shouldn't complain, I know that. I'm so blessed to have a healthy baby boy. I just have so many questions and so few answers. For instance, now he has finally settled down and isn't aggressively sucking on his pacifier (i.e. he might have really fallen asleep), so do I wake him in 8 minutes to keep him on his 3 hour routine?

Wishing that babies came with instruction manuals and nannies...

You moms out there, feel free to leave some advice.

And Like That...Life Changed

2011-04-23T15:24:00.010-05:00

How do you start a blog about the single most life changing event so far? I guess it should start with the plan. After a doctor's appointment on April 13th - Mark and I decided that it would be best to induce on April 15th. We'd go to the hospital at 5 a.m., and they'd give me pitocin to start contractions and then we could expect little Luke to arrive sometime that day. I was on board with the idea to a certain extent. The last two weeks of pregnancy had been very uncomfortable - sore hips, sore back, no energy, and just feeling HUGE. It's what God had to do to make a woman WANT a baby to come out of her body.

I had spent the last few weeks wondering - will my water break while I'm at Olive Garden, at this meeting for work, during the night, while Mark's at work, etc. Luke had overslept right through his April 11th due date, so induction seemed like the logical choice. This is when I'm reminded of Proverbs 16:9 " In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps." Not that I wanted to be induced. I really wanted it to "just happen," but once we set the date for April 15th - I figured that would be the day, (which was somewhat unfortunate because I didn't want him to be a "tax baby.")

I went to sleep at 11 p.m. on the 13th. I felt kinda achy, but I ignored it because I'd had a few "false alarms" where'd I woken Mark thinking I might be having contractions. At 1:00 a.m. Mark had a night terror (that's a different blog altogether). He turned on the light, looked for a non-existent burglar and then turned off the light and went back to sleep. I was suddenly uncomfortable, but it wasn't anything too bad. I kept waiting for it to go away so I could go back to sleep. When the pain didn't subside, I told Mark I was going to get up and see if it helped for me to walk around. The contractions weren't what I thought they'd be. I imagined feeling my muscles tighten in my stomach, but mostly it was back pain that got a little more intense and I felt it in my belly too. After a few minutes, I decided I would time them - no need to wake Mark up if they were too far apart, so I woke up Maybe who was surprisingly nice to me. She sat with me on the couch as I timed the contractions with my phone. It made me wonder if somehow her cat senses told her I was in pain, or maybe she's just nicer at 1 a.m. ?

Either way, I decided to wake Mark up around 1:30 a.m. when I was timing the contractions to be about 6 to 8 minutes apart. He was really grumpy. He thought it was another false alarm, and since he wakes up for work at 4:45 a.m., he wasn't happy about the idea of losing any sleep. He really wasn't impressed with my "so-called" contractions and asked if I wouldn't mind waking him up at 2:00 a.m. if I was still having him. At this point, he was being less supportive than the cat, and I told him "no" I'd really like for him to be with me. He took over the timing and quickly lost his edginess as contractions quickened to about 5 minutes apart. (Washington Regional's policy is to come in when contractions are 5 minutes apart or less and have lasted over an hour).

We pulled up to the hospital around 2:15 a.m. and they took me to L&D where they told me they had to watch me for an hour to see if I progressed. They charted my contractions between 3 and 5 minutes. That's when I realized they might send me home to deal with what had then become very intense pain. That was a LONG hour, and the contractions made me nauseated. . You always imagine your husband holding your hand and coaching you in breathing techniques, but between bouts of contractions and vomit, Mark told me about the Family Guy episode where Stewey was born...

The hour finally came to an end and the nurse told me I had progressed about a centimeter, not much more. She said she'd called the doctor and see what they wanted to do. My thoughts: "Really? I'm in labor here. I'm a day away from getting induced. If you send me home, I will sit right outside this door until you let me back in." (Abridged version).

The nurse came back in and said that they would admit me.

ME: "So, you're not sending me home?"

NURSE: "No. Your going to have a baby today."

They moved me into the delivery room, and I was one IV bag away from getting an epidural. That's when I heard the fateful words from the hallway to my nurse. "Do you mind if (so and so) does the IV?"

That's when I thought - why are they asking if my nurse minds? Why would she mind? That's when I realized that (so and so) probably wasn't a seasoned veteran. The next 10 minutes of my life were spent in extremely painful contractions combined with so and so's attempt to find a vein. I didn't watch, but Mark later told me that she was digging into my arm and lifting my skin up about an inch with the needle. After a failed attempt, she focused on another vein. So and so couldn't get that either. At which point she asked, "Are you doing okay?" Mark who hates IVs anyway, yelled, "She's got a freaking needle in her arm!!!"

The nurse and so and so both raised their eyebrows and didn't respond. At some point she finally found the vein.

About an hour later I got the epidural. Say what you want about epidurals, but I agree with Matt Chandler who says that he and his wife believe that epidurals are the beginning of God's redemption of child birth. It was magical. I got to sleep for a few hours while in labor. And honestly the IV was way worse than the epidural, although that was probably so and so's fault.

Around 10 a.m. I was fully dilated, which was a lot quicker than any of the nurses anticipated. I will spare you the details of the actual birth, which was actually really quick. Apparently, Luke was ready to meet the world. He was born at 11:33 a.m. It was overwhelming. I couldn't grasp that I had just met my son. I wish I could tell you that I immediately thought he was the cutest thing I'd ever seen, but he was covered in slime and meconium. Mark later said that he came out looking like Swamp Thing. (You can't say that we aren't honest).

He looked much better after a bath though. :) Even still we had a hard time wrapping our minds around the fact that he was our baby, our son, our Luke. We spent a couple days in the hospital, and I really wanted to take one of the nurses home with us. (It would really help if they would take care of him at night). :)

So now we are home - falling more in love with him every day -watching his every move, laughing at the funny sounds he makes, reminding him that he isn't missing football practice when he wakes up startled.

We are living a whole new life full of feedings, diaper changes, swaddling, and burpings. We don't sleep long or well. It's new and confusing. There have been plenty of tears, and Luke's cried too. But we are blessed - so blessed to be parents, so blessed to have Luke.

The night Luke was born Mark wanted to see what Luke 11:33 was (since that was the time he was born). It says, "No one lights a lamp and puts it in a place where it will be hidden, or under a bowl. Instead he puts it on its stand, so that those who come in may see the light."

Luke means "Bringer of Light." It's perfectly providential.

Luke Shiloh Bradley

Birthday: 4.14.11

Weight: 8 lbs. 7 oz.

Length: 20 in.

Nursery and Onesies

2011-04-03T20:08:00.008-05:00

The Nursery is finally finished, and I am really happy with how it turned out. Patty Howe made my bedding, and I love it. It is truly a labor of love, and I am so thankful for her. My sister-in-law, Autumn, and I picked out the fabric. The crib is Francais Lifestyle from Bonavita.

The giraffe picture was in my sister's old room, and she gave it to me for Luke's room. I love my brown chair. It was a gift from my sister-in-law, Autumn.

I got the tree decal from etsy, and it is one of my favorite things about the room. The dresser was left at our home by the former owner. My mom and I matched the paint with the fabric, and she painted it for me. Mark's aunt, Kim Bradley, helped me so much. She made pillows with my extra fabric, so that the day bed would fit in with the rest of the room. She also put up my tree for me. It takes a lot of patience to put up those decals, which is something I am still waiting impatiently to have. She also antiqued the dresser and arranged my book shelf. I told her that I should name the room after her like they do for donors at hospitals.

This weekend I got into creative mode. I guess it's my way of nesting (as opposed to cleaning my house, which my mom did for me a couple of weeks ago). I got fabric and ribbon and made the cork board below (disregard the fact that it isn't vertical here). I admit, it's kinda girly, but I don't think it looks too girly with all of the other blues, browns, and greens.

Then today I decided I was going to make monthly onesies to document each monthiversary. They were like $6 on etsy, not including shipping, and I knew I could make them myself, so I used photoshop/indesign/illustrator to make months 1-5. Then I went to Walmart and Target to get white onesies and iron-on paper. I used gift cards for both, so I was feeling pretty proud of myself that I hadn't spent any money. That was until, I pushed print and realized I was out of ink. Mark ran to the store and spent $50 getting all the different ink cartridges. Sadness. At least, I still have paper left that I can use for the next time I print more, and now we will have ink for 6 months to a year. I only ironed on months 1-3 because I'm afraid he might be a big boy and won't fit if I try to guess after that. I figure I can squeeze him into them for a picture though. I made Mark pick the colors for month 2.

It has been a really long time since I did any projects or really got creative at all, so it was great that I got it all done in one weekend. In fact, I thought I was having a contraction when I working on the cork board, and I told Luke that he needed to wait to come till after I finished the project.

It's only a few more days till we get to meet our boy. I can't wait. I'm starting to feel as ready as you can feel when you know your life is going to change FOREVER.

Baby Showers

2011-03-31T15:52:00.008-05:00

March has come and gone. I can't believe tomorrow is April 1st. No, I mean, I'm really in denial. That means our baby is coming next month, tomorrow, soon. Mark and I are both kinda freaking out. We've really started preparing ourselves mentally, and by that I mean we watched 8 episodes of "Kidnapped" (2006 TV mini-series) in two days on Netflix. What? You thought we'd read Baby Wise by now?

Well, I'm going to use the rest of my post to brag on my friends. I've had two baby showers this month. My friend, Alana, threw me a shower on March 5th at her apartment. She did a "Very Hungry Caterpillar" theme. It was so cute. The food at the shower went right along with book, and it was really cute. Everybody decorated onesies and burp cloths. I loved her creativity and all the little details, and the pettifors from Rick's Bakery were delicious. The ones with his name were so cute that I didn't eat the "Luke" part at first, but I got over that pretty quickly. Most of the girls who came were from RUF and church, and we had a great time.

On March 12th I went down to LR for a shower at Robbie Schuchard's house. My friends and their mom's threw a great party. I wish I had pictures of some of the decorations... She had a really cute tree with cookies that hung on them with Luke's initials. And the colors matched my nursery, which by the way is finished (or at least finished for now). As much as I liked getting some much needed baby items, I had a blast seeing friends that I rarely get to see (especially not all at once). I wish I could've been a guest at my own shower, so I could have caught up with them more. Shout out to MM, Kate, and Erin for making long drives in to be there.

Speaking of Kate, I'm so excited to meet Baby Richardson, and I'm glad Mark and I were able to peer pressure you guys into having a baby because we all know that's why you guys got pregnant. I was thinking Baby R. was a boy, but I am now casting my vote for a girl. I don't have a history of successful baby gender voting though...

Anyway, I am proud to call all these girls friends, and I appreciate their support as I begin this parenthood journey. God is really good.

AND, finally, if you haven't seen me lately, here is proof that I am indeed pregnant (see pictures). I'm feeling very large and in charge lately.

P.S. Mark is hoping I will have Luke tomorrow, so that every year we can play an April Fools joke on him and pretend we forgot his birthday. Our poor baby. :)

Babymoon

2011-02-27T10:51:00.006-06:00

I wish I could tell you that Mark and I took a little Babymoon to some exotic place, but we traveled only an hour and 45 minutes to Branson. It was great though. We stayed in Hollister, MO, at Janice and Larry Walther's river-front house overlooking the Taneycomo River (pictured above). We only had one night to stay, but we lived it up as only young people can.

I took a good 2 hour nap. Then we went to eat in downtown Branson at a place called, Rockies. The food was incredible, and the price is about the same as an Olive Garden. Our waitress was apparently a life long smoker, and she commended us on our ability to eat large portions quickly.

We played in-door putt-putt golf, and I beat Mark by one stroke. Yes, it is worth mentioning because A. I'm pregnant B. I have a bad back. We put a $5 dollar bet on it, but I haven't seen the winnings yet. We also shopped at the Outlet malls and spent way more than we should on clothes for Luke.

On Saturday, we slept in till 11:00 a.m., which was very impressive for me. We did a little more shopping, but, honestly, shopping isn't that fun when you are pregnant and clothes don't fit you. It was more of just a long walk than anything else.

It was a great weekend, and it was exactly what we needed after a pretty stressful week.

Countdown

2011-02-22T16:47:00.003-06:00

I don't know what I thought pregnancy would be like. I anticipated getting big, having cravings, and reading lots of baby books, and I guess that has been part of it, except the baby books aren't that interesting. I know that I should be reading as much as I can, but the books are kind of boring. Honestly, who wants to read a whole chapter on swaddling? Can't I just google problems as they come?

I still think I may be in denial. With less than 2 months away, I should have the baby's room done. I'm not even close. We did get our crib though. It just doesn't have a mattress. That can be easily remedied though, right? I sound like I don't care, but I do. There are a lot of things that I can't do because I'm pregnant though - like stand on ladders and use oil paint. These are the things that slow me down.

I'm also de-motivated because of Mark's schedule. He has been working from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m., but I don't get home from work till after 3. It kinda sucks. "Real Police Wives of Springdale," the TV series based on my life, is pretty boring. The drama is low. There is a lot of TV watching and book reading (the WW2 novel series not the baby books). There is a lot of trying to convince friends to hang out with me. There isn't a lot of healthy eating going on. Plus, right now I'm the only one in the show. I don't have any police wife friends to go get drinks with (isn't that what they do?). It's just me and Maybe and Dexter. Oh, and Luke, of course!

And don't get me started on Maybe. She tries to act like she likes me if and ONLY if Mark has been gone for several hours AND if the portable heater is turned on. Food and cat treats help too.

Luke has become quite the mover and shaker. He is really doing a number on my belly. I'm now an outie (belly button wise). I have very few pants that fit. This has been the case for a while. I've learned that even so-called stretch pants can be too tight. Elastic is not always the answer. It only stretches so far!

Anyway, this is my February post. I've met my quota for the month!

What's in a Name?

2011-01-12T16:24:00.005-06:00

I realize I've left all of my blog readers hanging, wondering what I will name my little boy. I want to start this post by saying that I really appreciated the feedback about Cullen. It made me and Mark feel a lot better. However, it opened up the door to a new name. I mentioned that we liked the name Luke too. Mark probably liked Luke a little better than Cullen, and I probably like Cullen a little better. So we've going back and forth between Luke and Cullen. Sometimes we'd call him Luke, other times Cullen. At least we narrowed it down to two right?

I was really hoping that God would just write the name he wanted us to pick in the sky. Is that asking too much? Well, I have to say that he nearly did just that. Two nights ago Mark and I ventured out to Barnes and Noble to get a book that he wanted. On the way there, I asked Mark if he thought we would use either Luke or Cullen or come up with a third option. He didn't know/was probably tired of talking about it. When we got to B&N, I made my way over to the parenting section, which by the way isn't that impressive. I wasn't looking for baby names, but when Mark finally joined me I held up a book called "The One-in-a Million Baby Name Book." I jokingly said, "Ok, Mark, I'm going to flip through this, and you just point at one, and that's what we will name him." I thought it would land on something like "Heraldo."

I promise I was flipping through there so quickly, and Mark pointed directly to "Lukas or Lucas." I started laughing so hard. How in the world? Out of all the names? Really? I don't believe in coincidences. God chose our baby's name. There's no other explanation. It gave me great joy because I really believe it was His way of saying that He already knew his name. He already cares for our son.

So Lukas it will be. We will probably call him Luke though - Lukas Shiloh Bradley.

The middle name Shiloh was actually the name we had for a girl. It means "peace." That story is kind of crazy too - good crazy, I mean. A week before I found out that I was pregnant, I had really bad cramps - to put it mildly - I thought I was dying or something. I woke up in the middle of night (not knowing that I was pregnant, mind you) and I cried out to God, "Save me. Save the baby. Shiloh." Ask my sister if you don't believe me. I called her the next day and told her I thought I was pregnant. A pregnancy test later that day said that I wasn't...then 6 days later I tested again, and I was. Shiloh means "peace" or "gift from God." For my pregnancy, I think God has been telling me to be at peace and trust him.

Mark and I both had heart problems as babies. Mark had tetralogy of fallot or four problems wrong with his heart. I had a vascular ring around my trachea. We knew that our baby (and future babies) would be at risk for heart problems. The week of Christmas we had an echo of the heart, and all is well. Our boy has a healthy heart. This (along with every other thing that a new mom worries about) is why I think God gave me the word "Shiloh" for my pregnancy.

Luke/Lukas means "bringer of light," so together his name will mean "bringer of light and peace." My prayer is that he will know the TRUE bringer of light and peace, and that from knowing God he will be able to fulfill his name's meaning. I know for sure that he will "bring the light" a lot earlier in the morning that I am used to seeing light.

So that is his story and even though "Luke" isn't quite as original as "Cullen," he will be our Luke, our One in a Million. (A little cheesy , I know, but I couldn't help myself).

Hijacked

2010-12-15T16:02:00.007-06:00

As I mentioned in the previous blog, we had a name picked out for our baby boy. But now I'm not sure it's going to happen. The name we loved was Cullen. Unfortunately, as soon as you read that many of you thought of the same thing: Twilight. It seems that pop culture has hijacked our baby name.

Cullen is the name of one of my brother's best friends. I always liked it when I was growing up. I really wasn't going to consider because of its connection to Twilight, but then Mark and I had talked about it. We decided that surely this name won't ALWAYS remind people of Twilight. We knew in our minds that that wasn't where the name came from and that everyone would get over Twilight in time.

That was a few weeks ago. This week I asked Mark, "So, how do you feel about Cullen?" His answer: "I'm not so sure anymore." We have had different variations of the following conversations with multiple people.

People: Do you have name?

Mark or Me: Yes. We like the name Cullen.

People: Oh, like from Twilight?

It seems that we can't escape it. People think we are naming our son after a popular vampire. As if! I would totally be team Jacob. No, but seriously, why would I name my kid after Edward Cullen? That's just dumb, but that's exactly what people think.

I am totally lost now. I don't know what to do, and my baby doesn't have a name. This is not a good place for me. I find myself laying awake at night trying to come up with alternative names. We like Luke, Jackson, Hayden, and a few others. It's not that I think there is one amazing name out there that I haven't thought of, it's just that I haven't had that feeling with another name yet.

Pop culture has hijacked a lot of baby names, and you can't be sure that it won't hijack a name even after your baby is born. For example, take my name - Jenny. Remember 1994? I do. That's the year that Forrest Gump came out. All of the sudden, I had people everywhere saying, "I love you Jen-nay (just like Forrest). It's not like Jenny was a good character in that movie either. She was pretty much a slut. So my own name was hijacked.

Here are some other names that have been hijacked. I'm not saying they aren't usable, just unfortunately related to a character or famous person.

Harry - ( Harry Potter)

Emma -(Ross and Rachel's kid on Friends)

Sawyer - (Lost)

Barney - (Purple Dinosaur)

Luke - (Star Wars)

George - (Bush)

Hillary - (Clinton)

Mark and I started off with the resolution that we wouldn't let this bother us, and that resolution is fading. I don't know whether I am fighting pop culture by going with the name "Cullen" regardless or falling into its trap and letting it steal a perfectly good name.

So here I am, not knowing what to do. Feel free to leave your comments (although I don't really want any new baby name options).

And, as promised, here's a picture of me with good abs. Jealous? Me too.

April 2010

Boyness

2010-11-18T14:35:00.004-06:00

So far my intuition as a mother is totally wrong. I was so sure we were having a girl. The doctor asked me what I thought it was, and I told her a girl. Then she asked Mark. Mark said that I was right nearly 99 percent of the time, so he was going with me. After trying to get the baby to move, the doctor said, "Well, it looks like you're wrong." And sure enough, I was. The doctor printed two pictures of the ultrasound that verify my son's boyness. I won't post them. They would not be appropriate.

Even though I was expecting a girl, I was genuinely surprised and happy to find out it was a boy. I just didn't like that I was wrong, but who really likes being wrong? It totally changed my whole outlook. Suddenly, I was bombarded with thoughts of toy trains, dump trucks, army men, and, of course, Star Wars Legos. (Mark will probably go ahead and buy them now, and try them out).

I can't wait for our little boy to get here. Pretty soon he will be chasing Maybe around, trying to pull her tail. But, at the same time, I can wait. I've surprised myself with how lackadaisical I've been through this whole process. When Mark and I got engaged I read books on marriage and got to work right away planning for a one-day event. Yet, I haven't even read one book - nope, not even "What to Expect when You're Expecting."

I HAVE been reading a historical fiction about Jews in Germany during pre-WW2. Talk about the kind of books that really go hand in hand with pregnancy... However, I did buy our baby his first onesies from mom and dad. Mark went with me and tried to endure as we picked out the perfect first outfit. We knew it was the right one when it said, "Handsome like Daddy." Aww.

Up till just recently, I've been too sick to go anywhere, so it's not that I'm worried about being behind, just surprised by myself. You'd think it would be hard to surprise yourself. In fact, it makes me wonder what surprises I'm keeping from myself even now.

Now, the next question everyone asks after finding out the gender is: do you have a name picked out? The answer is yes. However, I am very hesitant to reveal the name publicly. For one, because we haven't told Mark's parents yet. For another, because I don't really care what you think. Too harsh? Perhaps. Yet true. Or maybe I care, but it won't change the name. That makes it sound like it's a weird name, and it's really not.

As for now, please feel free to refer to him as Cranston.

Things I Never Thought I'd Google

2010-10-22T12:38:00.004-05:00

I'm not very good at sugar coating things, so here it is. I'm pregnant. Due April 22nd. Just started my second trimester, so only 6 more months to go. These last few months have been crazy. It's kinda like being on steroids, except it's like steroids on steroids. All I've done is eat. Until recently, I ate food ALL the time. Like a hobbit, I ate first breakfast, second breakfast, first lunch, second lunch, and so on. One Saturday, my boss got a text message from her husband that said, "Don't forget to feed the beast." Apparently it was an inside joke they had about my food consumption. I wish I could explain the hunger. The only good comparison that I can make, is that I felt like a drug addict, my body would get anxious for it. I needed a fix - quickly. And, of course, I didn't want healthy food. I wanted hamburgers, grilled cheeses, fries, baked potatoes covered in cheese, tacos, pizza.

In my defense, food ironically helps you not throw up when you are pregnant. Not that it worked very often. I will spare you the details, but let's just say that I switched toothpaste because I associated it with nausea.

Yes, my body went crazy, and is still kind of crazy. The one thing that could make me sick without fail was stepping into poor Dexter's room. The overpowering dog smell was not something I could handle. Poor Dexter has not received much attention these last 3 months. Don't tell him, but I tried to get Elizabeth Baker to keep him (for a while). She declined.

Pregnancy is the oddest thing. I'm still waiting for the "glowing" part of pregnancy, because I'm pretty convinced that it's either sweat from feeling overheated or eyes watering from throwing up. It is, indeed, quite the "experience." Which brings me to the title of my post. Pregnancy requires you to ask questions you would never thought you'd ever ask - thank goodness for google. The best one so far - "Is it safe for a pregnant woman to go to the shooting range?" Answer: No. Not good for baby's developing ears - could cause hearing problems. Also, you shouldn't be around lead when you are pregnant. The bullet cartridges have lead. There, now you know.

I've only been crazy emotional one week - the week we found out. That makes it sound like we weren't excited, and we were. It's just that, again, my body decide to overdose on estrogen, which apparently affected my ability to think. I backed into Mark's car. Two damaged cars in two seconds = Awesome. Later that night I was consuming vast quantities of California rolls and watching "Twilight" and I thought to myself, "Who am I?" Fortunately, my sanity came back rather quickly.

At this point, I've probably given more information than you wanted, yet not the information that you would expect from an "I'm pregnant" post, so let's pretend I'm starting over on this post.

Big news for everyone today - I'm pregnant. Just made it to 14 weeks today. Mark and I are so excited and can't wait for the stork to bring us our baby girl (or boy). (I think it's a girl).

Nevermind, back to regular me. I really wish a stork was bringing the baby. That would be a lot easier. Ok, so here's the answer to some of the questions I've had.

Q: How did you tell Mark?

A: I took a pregnancy test and showed it to Mark. He said, "Oh well, babe. Maybe next month." I said, "No, look there's a line." Mark said, "No, babe, that's just a reflection..." I held firmly that it was indeed a line. Even though the line was faint, it was definitely there, but we got a "pregnant" or "not pregnant" test the next day, so that Mark could jump out of the denial stage.

Q: Are both your parents excited?

A: Of course, they are going to be grandparents. Mark's for the first time and mine for the eighth.

Q: Do you have a name picked out?

A: Yes, I've told a few people, but I'm not ready to "go public." This blog post was a hard step for me.

Q: Have you had any weird cravings?

A: Fast food. The salad at Kobe. Okra. Thousand Island Dressing.

Q: Are you showing?

A: Hahaha. I think I started showing around 8 weeks. I heard that people always kept waiting and waiting, hoping they would show. I, apparently, am an outlier. Instead of the 3 to 5 pound weight gain that is normal for the first trimester, I have gained 13 pounds. Yes, that's about a pound a week. People keep telling me that it is the "baby." Please, Baby Bradley weighs approximately 1 and 1/2 ounces. To suggest that my baby weighs 13 pounds is A. to suggest that my baby is fat. or B. to suggest that the baby is ready to be born. It's okay. I'm embracing it. It's Jenny's Big Fat Life. It will be a reality TV show about me gaining weight during pregnancy that no one will watch, except for my parents.

Q: Is Mark excited?

A: Yes. Mark has lots of "new" parenting ideas - like faking a British accent, so that our child will have one. However, whenever I'm sick, he frequently reminds me that there is a reason for it saying that I, "have a creature growing inside me." Let it be noted that I have asked him to stop calling our baby "a creature."

Q: Will you post pictures of your pregnant belly?

A: Absolutely not. Sorry. I'm just not that brave. However, at some point, I may post old pictures of me when I had good abs, just so that we can all reminisce.

Hardin Army

2010-09-15T16:05:00.007-05:00

The Hardin family vacation is fast approaching. After Autumn and Daniel got married in 2008 in Mexico, my mom decided that we would have to get the whole family together once a year.

Our numbers keep growing every year as new nieces and nephews pop into the picture. This year is no exception. We've added two. Julie and Mike's baby, Elijah and David and Karisa's baby, Thomas.I don't think my parents planned this, but I think the Hardin family is slowly taking over the world. We are ignoring the negative population growth that is so popular in Europe. Soon we will have a child army led by the oldest Daniel Benjamin Hardin. They will probably use plastic swords instead of modern weapons. (On that note, let me know if you'd ever like to read the History Day Paper that Mary Margaret Rogers and I wrote about the Machine Gun Revolution). I'm not really sure what this little Hardin Army will do. In fact, it's really a horrible idea. Children shouldn't be in armies. It would probably make a better screen play...

Anyway, all of this leads me to an excuse to show pictures of my family as it has grown over the last two years. And after my vacation I can include the new family picture which will include the two newest additions.

My 21st Birthday

2010-08-20T15:46:00.006-05:00

No, I'm not 21, but I was reflecting on my 21st birthday the other day, and I thought it might be worth blogging about. You see, Mark's 30th birthday is coming up on September 1st, and I was thinking about how I could make it fun. Naturally, I thought of a pinata. When I was kid I had birthday party with a pinata, and it was so fun. We all went crazy when the candy started busting through the seams. That's why I thought a pinata would be fun for Mark's 30th birthday, but I should know better.

You see, for my 21st birthday, I told my mom that I wanted a pinata, and mom, in good birthday fashion, delivered. She got me a butterfly pinata and a birthday hat (see below).

The problem was that my friends didn't get the memo about the awesomeness of the pinata. They acted like they could get candy anywhere. When the pinata exploded with candy, no one jumped on the floor to get it. They picked it up at their leisure, as if they were picking up trash after a football game. (Come on, people. You know who you are. You didn't go crazy for the candy. You might have pretended for half a second, but that was it.)

Oh well, so you would think the idea would totally be out - no more pinatas for adults, but the idea is so compelling. You hit something and a candy explosion happens - how does that not appeal to everyone???!!!?? I suppose if I filled it with gas cards, coupons, and U.S. bonds then we would see people getting excited. Or maybe if I had a card good for fully funding someone's Roth IRA that would work...

I'm still working on the idea, thinking it over, but for now I'm withholding pinatas at all birthday parties till my confidence in the human race returns.

The Unknown

2010-07-09T14:53:00.003-05:00

Today marks the end of an era. It is Mark's last day at Arvest Bank. He started there four years ago, so that he could buy me a ring. :) Next week he will begin a new job, a completely different career as a police officer. I know we are both still trying to wrap our minds around what that means, and to be totally honest, I don't think we really know. For those of you who know Mark, it might be hard to imagine him having that kind of job. After all, aren't all cops kind of mean and scary? Mark wouldn't fit in either of those categories. He is a harmonizer, and he doesn't really like conflict. He's laid back. I've joked that he will just be the good cop in the good cop/bad cop scenario. They will have a suspect in a holding room, and Mark will be the one that's like "Hey, I know you killed your wife. I know you probably didn't mean to. We all make mistakes you know?" And can you really picture my sweet husband writing a ticket to a crying 16-year-old girl?

On the other hand, Mark has an ingrained sense of justice, a desire for things to be set right, and a desire to help those in need. It's these qualities that will help him be a good law enforcer.

This is definitely a new journey for us. We've been praying for new job opportunities since January 2009. Mark has sought counsel, taken personality tests, and talked to lots and lots of people about different opportunities. After a year of looking for a new job, I was kind of thinking that maybe God didn't really know what to do with us. I mean, we really didn't know what to do with us, and I say "us" because once your married, your spouse's job affects you.

Without a doubt, I can say that God opened up doors for Mark to get this job. We agreed a few months ago that Mark should talk to someone who had a job in the fields that interested him. Our next door neighbor is a police officer, so I suggested Mark talk to him. Mark called him up in May, and they had lunch. Our neighbor told Mark that the Springdale Police Dept. was hiring, and that if he was interested, Mark should fill out an application because they were due on Friday. (They were having lunch on Wednesday). And...oh by the way...the physical and written tests were 9 days away.

Mark will tell you that he wasn't in shape, and of all the athletic things he's done - running is not his strong point. For some reason, God decided to have him pass the physical. We both know it was a God-thing. We were both so discouraged the day before the physical test that we talked about Mark waiting for a year to test.

After he passed the physical test, Mark took a written test and passed that too. He then had an interview with the Civil Service Commission. He was one of 40 people who had interviews. After the interview, he was ranked 4th out of 40.

He then had to fill out a background information packet, and all of his previous employers and some of his friends and family members received references. Then...we just waited...for about 5 weeks. Then a couple of weeks ago, he got a call to come in for a final interview. He got a contingent job offer that day, and just had to pass a polygraph test, a psyche exam, and a drug test. The official offer was given two weeks ago today.

It was a God-thing. That's the only way to explain it. If I think about all of the little things that had to fall into place, it will make my head spin. Like the fact that God knew we'd buy our house (even though we weren't looking to buy a house) that happened to be next door to a police officer, who happened to be the recruiting officer at the dept., who happened to know that testing was 9 days away and that the deadline for applications was that week.

I am proud of my husband and proud of the courage he has to leave the comfort of a controlled environment at a bank to pursue a new career that will stretch him outside of his comfort zone and force him to call upon parts of his personality that he hasn't been forced to call upon.

So we will soon face a new normal and Mark will trade in his bankers hours and khaki pants for a uniform and a gun, and let's be honest...he's really excited about the gun. :) We are both naive about this new career, and for now that's okay. But when I have to sleep alone at night because he's out chasing criminals, I'm going to have to come back to this - to knowing that for some reason God is obviously leading Mark and me down this new path and He alone can sustain us.

And don't worry, I won't let him get cocky. I will remind him that he wanted to see Eclipse with me last night, and that he agreed with me that if you had to choose - you'd way rather be a werewolf than a vampire.

I Dreamed A Dream

2010-06-02T15:46:00.006-05:00

I woke up this morning, realizing that my mind is more creative when I'm asleep then when I'm awake...

I dreamed that I was back in fifth grade. I know I was in fifth grade because I'm pretty sure Miss Barker was my teacher again. We were having a spelling test, but we could all write the word on the board. The test was only one word. We had to spell the word "saline." I nailed it. Then I was driving a red truck (still as a fifth grader). I pulled in this old man's yard and asked him a question or something. He told me that I should come inside and he would tell me. (Even as a fifth grader, I wasn't dumb enough to fall for that one). I took off in my red truck, and he started chasing me. That's when Zachary Ty Bryan (aka Brad Taylor from Home Improvement) rescued me from the old man.

He put his arm around me and led me down this road. I thought it was pretty cool that I was hanging out with Zachary Ty Bryan, and then I realized he was stealing gold coins from his dad (not cool - such a celebrity thing to do). I think he was on drugs...

Then I woke up.

Nada

2010-05-19T21:22:00.003-05:00

I don't know if I should waste your time, but I can't think of anything else to do and Mark doesn't want me to distract him from his work. I've already been chastised for watching the youtube video of the 3-year-old girl crying over Justin Bieber. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTCm8tdHkfI - It is funny, but kind of creepy. How do 3-year-olds get so caught up into pop culture that they cry over a 16-year-old singer. Weird. When I was three I don't think I knew anything about pop culture. I mean, my best friend was my dog till I was probably 5 or 6.

Kids these days... I mean, I really try to think back, and my earliest memories of even caring about movie stars were in fifth or sixth grade when it was cool to like Leonardo Dicaprio, Devon Sawa (Casper and Little Giants), and Jonathan Taylor Thomas. I never really did care that much about Hanson until I went to Kanakuk-Colorado, and they played MMM Bop all the time.

Oh, Kanakuk Colorado, how I miss you this time of the year. That was really the BEST job ever, if you can call hanging out with kids all day and going rock climbing, fly fishing, and white water rafting a job.

Ok. That is all. For the five people that read this and just wasted a minute or two, I'm sorry. I'm not cool. I don't have cool things going on all the time. Even if I did I might not blog about them because I'd be too cool...

A Wedding, A Funeral, A Baby Dedication

2010-05-03T16:04:00.013-05:00

These last 10 days have been a whirlwind, and I still feel like my feet haven't hit the ground. I once wrote a paper in college about a wedding and a funeral, and my professor told me that it was cliche. So at the expense of sounding cliche, let me give you a little life update.

On Friday, April 23, Beth, my sister-in-law, got married to Jason Reynolds. The wedding couldn't have gone better. They had an outdoor wedding overlooking White Rock Lake in Dallas. I was blessed to be a part of it as one of Beth's bridesmaids. It was really an awesome day, and I'm so excited to add Jason as a brother-in-law. You really can never have to many brothers...

Also, if you ever have the opportunity to be in a wedding with LC (Lauren Cowling) I highly recommend it. LC leaves everything on the dance floor and takes the awkwardness level to an awesomely high level. Proof below.

It was an honor to be a part of their wedding, and I really hope they have a honeymoon baby so any pressure from Frances will be off of me and Mark. :)

We got back from Dallas on Saturday, and I got to hang out with my BFF, Mary Margaret. I was really proud of myself for staying up till 3 a.m. I don't think of done that since college, but we had like almost 3 years of life to catch up on.

Originally, Mark and I had plans to go to Kansas City the next weekend, so that I could attend an on-site Gala training for work, but on Monday I got a call from my mom. She told me that my grandma wasn't doing well, and that they thought she wouldn't make it through the night. It turns out, she was right. My 89-year-old grandma had been in the hospital for 10 weeks. Most of that time she was on a ventilator and couldn't talk. I'd seen her twice in the hospital at Baptist, and the last time I saw her she looked skinnier than I'd ever seen her look. When I told her I loved her, she cried and tried to speak back to me, but she couldn't. It was really, really hard to see her that way.

A few hours before she died she looked up into the air and reached her hands up. My parents said that she opened her mouth and smiled in awe of something that no one else could see. My dad asked her if she saw angels, and she nodded. He asked her if she saw my grandpa, and she nodded. He asked her if she wanted to be with Jesus, and she nodded. They said it was amazing to see her like that. They sang songs out of the Baptist hymnal the last hour of her life, and then the Lord took her to be with him.

The funeral was on Saturday. My dad spoke as did I and most of the grandchildren. My grandma loved her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren so much. At her house, we found drawer after drawer of pictures that we had drawn as kids or notes we had written. I found a postcard that I had written her, and not knowing what to do with it, I took it back. There is nothing particularly sweet about the note I wrote her. I talked about my cat (imagine that) and how I had wanted to come see her with the boys but couldn't because it was my birthday weekend. It was dated Jan 1997.

After spending a little time at her house, we went out to her old farm where she lived with my grandpa before he died in 1999. It's the same house where my dad and grandpa were born. It hasn't aged well. The floors are rotting. The roof will probably cave in at some point, and there was a note on the refrigerator from my brother, David. "I love grandma's pie - David" was all it said.

My oldest brother, David, made it home for the funeral. He brought his five-year-old son, Daniel Benjamin. Daniel Benjamin is really into Indiana Jones right now, and he spend most of the weekend wearing his "Indiana Jones" hat. It was cute seeing him play on the farm like I used to when I was a kid. He'd run from hay bale to hay bale, and my niece Avery (Julie's 2 year-old) tried to follow him everywhere.

Here are some pictures from the farm. Seriously, these kids could not getting any cuter.

Daniel and Avery

Avery, Mike, Me and Daniel

Daniel and his Papa running on the hay bales.

The time at the farm was good. It was very nostalgic - one of those days that's hard to put in words. One of those days that I will never forget.

On the way back to Little Rock we encountered two amazing thunderstorms. At one point we thought there might be a tornado. Daniel Benjamin asked Peepaw (my dad) to pray that the tornado wouldn't hit us. After we found out the tornado wasn't going to hit us, Daniel turned to me and said, "God answered Peepaw's prayer." :)

Daniel had already come up with three ways to get rid of the tornado. 1. He would use a broom to scare birds into the tornado. 2. We could make a bomb go off inside the tornado. 3. Start a fire inside the tornado. He was pretty sure all of these were good ideas. Oh to have the mind of a five-year-old...

And to complete my whole circle of life in 10 days, we celebrated the dedication of my niece, Avery and sweet baby nephew, Elijah, on Sunday at Mosaic Church in Little Rock. My sister, Julie, and her husband, Mike have amazing hearts for the Lord, and I'm excited to watch her children grow and learn. Our my prayer for them is that they know the Lord, truly know Him.

Cute baby Elijah

Well, that sums up my last 10 days. Life is short. Love your grandmas, grandpas, moms, dads, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, and friends. God is good, and He pours out his grace on our lives again and again, day after day.

I'm Alive...

2010-03-09T18:45:00.006-06:00

I know you were wondering since it's been a month since I've blogged. This is barely blog worthy, but at least you will know I'm here. Above is a picture of my nephew, Daniel, when he was 2-years-old. I know what you are thinking (just kidding - how could I know what you are thinking) - as soon as I say that you might think the word "poop" just so you know there is no way that I'm thinking what you are thinking, but if you just thought the word "poop" then I got you there too.

PERHAPS you are thinking this a cute picture of Jenny's nephew with her father. Perhaps little Daniel will grow up to be a doctor like his father and his father before him (which is my father). You might be right, but you might be wrong. Here also is a picture of me with my father (very similar to the picture - except I'm a girl) - but the setting is similar and we are both holding stethoscopes. I didn't not grow up to be a doctor. If I did, I probably wouldn't be blogging right now. I would be stethoscoping someone. Look it up. It's a word...a doctor word . Now you know, I'm alive. That is all.

Did I ever tell you about the time I went crazy?

2010-02-05T14:25:00.004-06:00

If I haven't, then here is the story. Once upon a time I went on a trip called "High Road." It was a freshman orientation outdoor experience for incoming Wheaton students. We backpacked and canoed for about two weeks in the backwoods of Michigan. The mentality behind the trip is that we would have a wilderness experience like Moses and the Israelites. The goal wasn't necessarily for the trip to be fun, but rather that we learn to trust God in times where we don't know where he is leading us...

To make a long story short, the trip culminated in a 36 hour isolation period on the banks of Lake Michigan. We were supposed to spend the time praying and reading our Bible, and they didn't give us any food...so we fasted too. I read my Bible, prayed, fasted, drank straight out of Lake Michigan (they say the water passes purification standards), and I also went crazy. I painted a smiley face on a rock and named him, Rocky, of course, and we talked and hung out and then he made me mad. Then I made him a friend fnamed, Rockina, and they got married...

I tried to make a fort too, but it's really hard, especially without a knife. If you are ever stranded on a deserted island, you really need a knife and a friend who majored in engineering...My fort consisted of a few fallen down logs that I leaned against a tree. I didn't sleep under it though, for fear of it falling on me. As you can see from the picture I painted my face and put grass in my hair. I was going for the full "Lord of the Flies" effect, and I think I deeply troubled the counselors when they came to get me.

It was awesome. It was the only part of the trip that I liked, and if ever found the journal that I wrote in, I will share all of the adventures that Rocky and I enjoyed together.

Now you know...

I Hate You, Avatar

2010-01-24T19:11:00.009-06:00

First, let me say that I went to see "Avatar" with Mark as part of his Christmas present. I was a blank slate, probably leaning towards thoughts like "I hope I like this..." I just don't want anyone to think that I decided not to like "Avatar" because of all the hype - that I had my expectations really high and then they weren't met, so like a scorned lover I turned all my pre-love into hate.

Honestly, the only part that I liked was when the credits rolled and I thought about how glad I was that it was over. I really felt no need to proclaim to anyone or everyone how I felt about the movie. I granted that some people would get sucked in by the special effects, but I wasn't expecting the Facebook outpour of love for "Avatar" with statuses like "Avatar = best movie ever" and the even dumber "I wish I was an Avatar."

Really? Did we watch the same movie? I will let you know that I did not watch it in 3D, and perhaps if I had I might have been so enveloped in the grandness of 3D that I might not have noticed that there was no real plot.

However, since I watched it without being in a fever-pitched state of mind, I was pissed about its anti-American, anti-war, global warming, earth-worshipping leftist-wing propaganda.

I've debated about even blogging about it because of the fact, that I don't even want to think about it, but if you watched it and loved it - please ask yourself why. If you are an earth-worshipping liberal than I'm sure it was awesome for you...

To the rest of you: here is the message I took away. This guy (already forgot his name) goes to another planet to "win the hearts and minds of the people." You might have heard this phrase before. It's because it's a phrase I've heard U.S. military use when talking about the people in Iraq or Afghanistan. I have two brothers in the U.S. Army, so I naturally took offense to the fact that the military on Pandora eventually become the bad guys when they fail to "win the hearts and minds of the people" and instead decide to blow up their country with their modern weaponry because they want the resources on Pandora and the NaVi people are in the way.

If you didn't know this already - Hollywood hates America. They disguise their hate-filled messages with really cool special effects, but the hate is still there. They hate America for "policing the world" and killing it by leaving a "carbon footprint" (among other things). You can read more about how I feel about "going green" on this previous blog.

That blog is a little more tongue and cheek, but I honestly believe God has given us this planet and its resources to use responsibly (see Genesis 1). The earth was made for people (not the other way around). Some people are so devoted to solving global warming that they aren't paying attention to any other world problems like feeding the hungry or taking care of orphans to name a couple. Global warming has become a new religion - just ask Czech President Klaus ( he agrees with me).

This brings me to the final reason that I hate "Avatar." Some people have seen "Avatar" and been depressed after they saw it because they "long to enjoy the beauty of the alien world of Pandora." My first reaction, would be to say that that is just dumb, really dumb, but I also understand that people have an intrinsic desire to thirst for greatness and something beyond this world. That something isn't found on Pandora. It is, however, found in Christ and in His presence, which will only happen when believers go to heaven.

So many people are looking for heaven on earth (or Pandora in this case), and they aren't going to find it. We live in a fallen world. It will one day be redeemed by God, but He is only one who deserves our worship, not this earth or the idols in it.

So that is my anti-Avatar soap box, and it's barely scratching the surface - but I don't want to get into everyone reason that I hated it. I would love to hear what other people thought about it. It's generated some good discussions among friends (especially, my friend, Lacey who prompted me to write about it). :)

Mark's Poem

2010-01-11T14:35:00.007-06:00

You may wonder why my blog is titled "Team Bradley," but I am the only one who blogs. Well, with Mark's permission I am publishing a poem that he wrote me while we were dating. I had gone on a cruise with my parents, oldest brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, and Mark wrote me letters for each day that I was gone. That's pretty much all the background you need to know (that and the joke at the beginning about Mark being old).

"Here are the words of a young...old muse

Telling a tale of a girl and her cruise

On that beautiful day that she boarded a ship

With her cute little nephew on a family trip

How she could know, there was no way

All the fun she would have in the next 7 days

Eating and drinking and lying around

Seeing beautiful places that simply astound

The soft glowing sun, the warm gentle air

Helped her relax without worry or care

And she smiled as she thought, with a tear in her eye

Of the boy who loved her, who wished she was nigh

He told her he loved her, and this was true

There wasn't anything for her, he wouldn't do

His love for her was as the ocean, vast

And he would love her till he breathed his last

And so she slept happy, all snug in her bed

While visions of Mark shirtless, danced in her head

And when she returned, Mark would be there

To greet her and hold her and love her with care"

I hope you all enjoyed it. It pretty much cracks me up, and I hope you all get a kick out of it as well.

Happy Birthday, Me!

2010-01-05T13:37:00.003-06:00

Well, I take requests, so here I am blogging for the first time in a month or so (just for you, Lauren). I guess I thought since no one commented on my last blog that I had officially offended everyone by calling my dog an SOB, but you have to admit, it was in context...

So, today is my 25th birthday, and for the first time ever, I feel old - like I don't really want to be 25. I know everyone that is older than me is reading this and thinking that I am dumb for thinking that, but I think I have some pretty good reasons.

My back is just now beginning to heal. I've had back pain for 6 months. In September and October, I could barely walk. I even got a handicap sticker to hang over my rear view mirror. If that is the kind of thing that being 24 brings, I am really worried about being 25. Heck, I might even be menopausal by the end of this year.

My good friends can tell you that I already suffer from IBS. If you don't know what that is - google it for details. I've had IBS since I was 17. Most people don't get it till they're 40 and stressed, but maybe it was high school basketball that brought on the kind of stress that makes you get IBS at an early age.

Also, I can't remember names and faces. When I was going through rush a girl came up to me and said, "I saw that you preffed Kappa. I did too."

"That's awesome." I said. "Where did you go to school?"

The girl: "P.A." (In her mind she probably thought - "Wow. What a jerk. She was so stuck on herself in high school that she doesn't even remember my name.")

She was a year younger than me. And when she said her name, I knew who she was, but she just looked different (or so I tell myself). So my memory was already going at 19, and I think it just gets worse every year. I feel like I constantly have to smile at everyone like I know them - IN CASE I KNOW THEM. Sometimes I get weird stares (when they don't know me).

So, I'm just preparing myself for the ailments that being 25 could bring. Will I fall and break my hip? Will I have a triple-by-pass surgery to unclog my arteries? Will I buy an electric wheel chair and visit the grand canyon? Who knows?

I guess I shouldn't be that worried about it. I mean some of those retirement communities are pretty cool (if you have enough money to live in a nice one). They play games and have themed parties. I LOVE playing BINGO, so that will be good.

Perhaps getting old isn't so bad. Then again, I won't remember how bad it is, so that's a relief.

I Spoke Too Soon

2009-11-03T16:54:00.006-06:00

I take it back. All of it. Everything I said in the last post. Though Dexter can be smelly, I wrongly attributed the smell in his room to him. Little did I know that his "friend," Maybe, was really the culprit.

Mark and I were seriously considering tearing up the ugly green carpet in the patio because of how bad the room smells. If you don't believe me ask Bo Boschetti or Bess Killingsworth who came to our house last Saturday. Bess wouldn't even go near the room - that's how bad it smelled.

But I can't believe I blamed Dexter. I mean all the signs pointed to him. It is his room after all. He is a somewhat smelly dog, but I was wrong. There were a few times over the last couple of weeks that I saw some wet spots on Dexter's cute blue pillow (that my sister-in-law Autumn gave to me). I attributed the spots to Dexter drooling, and really didn't think much of it...until yesterday.

Yesterday I let Maybe into Dexter's room and, shortly thereafter, I let Dexter inside. Dexter and I both noticed a wet spot on his pillow. He sniffed it. I didn't see the need.

Apparently, Dexter's best friend, Maybe, who just LOVES his little room has been peeing on her best friend's pillow. Mark threw the pillow away last night (sorry Autumn) and, magically, the horrendous smell in Dexter's room is gone.

Just when you thought you could trust a cat. Just when we were planning to change Maybe's name to "Yes, we'll Keep You," then she goes and does a thing like that. The whole thing is conniving and despicable. She gained Dexter's trust, his affection, his slobbery licks, and for what?

To turn around and pee on the poor son of bitch's pillow.

Dog Denial

2009-10-27T20:28:00.005-05:00

For almost 10 years I have been in denial, but it's time I faced the truth: my dog, my little tiny 100+ pound Chocolate Lab that I have had since I was 15, is smelly. I don't really have a great sense of smell, but I had heard from other people that he was smelly. In fact, I've gotten on to Mark several times for telling me that he would like Dexter more if he didn't stink so bad.

For the past year we've let him sleep on a blue pillow in our closed-in patio. The smell has gotten so bad in there that we can't keep the door open for even a few seconds before it overwhelms us. (It should be noted that Maybe doesn't mind, but she poops in a box so her opinion went out the door a long time ago).

Perhaps, its the fact that it has rained for the past month, and Dexter's wet fur has added to the smell. The fact is he is smelly. It's admitted. Done. You got me to say it.

I know what you are thinking - well most people who have smelly dogs just wash them. Here's my problem though. The former owners of this house decided that carpet in the hall bathroom with the tub would be a good idea. Here's the other problem. Giving a 100+ pound dog a bath in a tub probably would mean that Dexter would get a little wet then jump out of the tub and shake his smelly fur all over the bathroom, adding to the intense wet smelly dogness.

In a few weeks, Mark and I will have to face one of the biggest challenges of our married life - transferring Dexter from Springdale to Little Rock for the holidays in a 2007 Toyota Camry. My sweet little baby, Dexter, does not travel well. He drools about 8 oz. every two minutes. I expect most of the drool will end up on me because, you see, Dexter will not sit in the back seat of the car alone. He gets very lonely being 2 feet away and tries to see what is going on in the front seat. Since this scenario could end with Mark not being able to drive with a 100+ dog in his lap, I will sit in the back. Mark claims that he plans on keeping a window open to let the smell out.

Why can't we just leave him in the back yard you ask? Dexter is the ultimate barker. He has us trained so well. When he barks we let him in, so if we aren't in town - he just keeps barking and barking and barking. We've gotten text messages from our neighbor who is a cop that say: "Your boy is barking" or "Your dog is missing you." (i.e. put your dog up. He's keeping us from sleeping.) This started in Little Rock, but my parents slept on the other side of the house (away from Dexter). I think the neighbors installed extra-sound proof windows.

Well, Mark and I don't feel right about asking anyone to put him up every night when we are gone over the holidays, so the big boy is coming with us, so look out Little Rock. And Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.

Paparazzi and Islands

2009-09-18T19:49:00.004-05:00

If you have been wondering why I haven't posted in a while, it's because my life the last few weeks has been incredibly busy, and because I am famous. I was quoted in this article. It's about the Northwest Arkansas Walk to Cure Diabetes. Ever since the paparazzi figured out where I lived, they have been swarming our place, taking pictures of me. They have one where I'm in the car with my cat, Maybe, and she's not wearing a seat belt (took a lot of flak for that one). And one where I held her out over a balcony, so that everyone could see her (bad idea again).

They also keep making rumors that I'm pregnant with octuplets, which I'd like to dispel. It's even worse on campus where everyone asks for my autograph. I was photographed with "John 3:16" written on my face, and it has been googled like 6 million times.

It's been very difficult being plunged into this hollywood-like lifestyle. That's why I bought an island. Yeah, my own personal island. So if you are wondering where I am over the next few weeks, I've gone to my island with Mark.

Back Pain

2009-08-21T11:56:00.005-05:00

WARNING: This blog might not interest you. Please check back at a later time for a more interesting blog.

If you ever wonder why I don't write in my blog very often, it's because I don't know that there is much going on in my life that would interest you, and I know that I, personally, don't like reading uninteresting blogs.

I was officially diagnosed last week with a lumbar strain, meaning that basically my back is screwed up. It has been hurting since late June and has progressively gotten worse. It's effecting my S1 nerve (google it), which goes through my hip and into my leg. Basically, it's made it really painful to walk or stand, which is something that I had really taken for granted. It has been a minor inconvenience for the most part, but as of next week I start school, which could make it a major inconvenience for two reasons.

1. U of A parking is notorious for being horrible, which isn't good if you can't walk very far without being in pain.

2. Remember how I said that my top reason for going back to school was playing flag football? Well, I'm not going to say that it's out of the question, but I will definitely need to recover ASAP. (Heal, back! Heal!) I was really planning on forming a dominate flag football team, but as I can't currently walk without being in pain - I probably wouldn't even make it through the try-outs that I was hypothetically going to have. And, perhaps, that is one of the reasons that God is allowing me to have this pain. Maybe, just maybe, he wants me to know that sports are meant for connecting with people (even people who really suck at sports) and not for dominating. I know, I know, the whole thing seems kind of crazy to me too, but I will let you know how everything works out.

Anyway, I have a new appreciation for walking without being in pain. Feel free to say a quick prayer for me - that my back, hip, leg will heal quickly and that I will be able to walk to class without being in too much pain, and if you are feeling generous - pray that I will be able to flag football. :)

Teenagers - What can you do?

2009-08-12T16:42:00.003-05:00

So as I've mentioned in a previous post. Our Maybe cat is now 8 months old, which in cat years is somewhere between 14 and 15 years-old. Just a few short months ago she was a kitten, but now our teenage cat has changed so much and truly entered the teenage years. All the signs are there. She doesn't want to be around me. She tries to sneak out of the house at night. She's got catne "cat acne." She's moody. She's gained weight. She only wants to hang out with Dexter. She keeps disobeying and scratching the furniture. She's stopped eating with the family at dinner. She never answers when I call. She's stopped talking to me....and the list goes on.

I knew this day would come, but I never thought it would be this hard - to watch this cat that you've loved and petted and fed for so many months - and she wants nothing to do with you. I just wish I could see into her little cat brain, so I could understand why she wants to treat me like this. It's like she's purposefully trying to hurt my feelings. I told myself I wasn't going to cry, but...I just wasn't prepared for her to enter the teenage years.

She used to sit in the room with me while I blogged, but she isn't in here now. She's probably in the other room planning to throw some big cat party when Mark and I go out of town. She and all her cat friends will probably buy some cat nip and get all high on it.

Don't worry Mark and I are still parenting based on "Love through Domination," but we are going to have to write a new chapter after this...

I'd love any advice that you guys have...

It's the Little Things

2009-08-03T22:37:00.003-05:00

It's been a week since our air conditioning broke, and I really didn't notice that much last week because we had a lot of rain. However, it is currently 85 degrees in our house, and it is really starting to make me go crazy.

The apathy level around the Bradley house is high with the heat like this. We ate macaroni 'n cheese for dinner with Cocoa Puffs for dessert. The cat is feeling it too. We came home last night from a weekend in LR, and Maybe was suffering from heat exhaustion. I'm not kidding. She was really sick. Mark was worried, but I told him it would help break her a little more.

The ironic thing is that Dexter has his own personal AC unit in his room (aka - the patio), so he's not suffering at all. We did put Maybe in their last night, so he has a cat for a roommate - but I've had worse roommates - granted, none that pooped in box of litter.

I'd like to tell you we are holding up like champs, thinking of all the people in the world who don't have air conditioning, but we are pretty much whining to each other.

We got a quote from some guy at Bud Anderson's named Brent. He seemed like a nice guy, but then he gave us his quote to replace our furnace. It was ridiculous, so we told Brandon we were going to think about it (aka - get another quote). He let us know that it wasn't going to get any cooler this week. In fact, according to Brent, it's supposed to get up to 107 degrees this week. Thanks, Brent, YOU LIAR.

Anyway, Dexter and Maybe are both comfortable in their air conditioned room, and Mark and I are about to crawl into bed, crank the fans up, and have a competition to see who can make the biggest pool of sweat.

This heat makes me realize why there is so much tension in the Middle East. It's too hot over there, and the people without air conditioners feel the need to shoot people like Brent who remind them how hot it is.

Wow, ya'll might want to read that again. Profound. If we could get a program where Palestinians would turn over their guns in exchange for air conditioning, I think we could bring peace to the Middle East. Never mind religious, cultural, and ethnic tensions. If people just had air conditioning they would stop fighting.

I really wish I had thought about this my junior year when I wrote my peace essay on a "just war theory..." Topich would have given me an A. Actually, I got an A, but this one would have probably gone to Nationals...

Back to School

2009-07-23T21:26:00.004-05:00

"Back to school...back to school...to prove to dad that I'm no fool." - Billy Madison

I have really never thought of myself as a school person, and now that I'm working I can honestly say that I don't think of myself as a a work person. I've never had much ambition, but that doesn't mean I don't work hard. I do. I made good grades in college, and I work hard at my job. I just don't live to work. I work to live. (That's a little chaistic structure for you Beth Moore fans).

That's why I surprised myself by applying for grad. school. Then I surprised myself by thinking about going, and now I'm surprised that it's only a few weeks away till I start. I feel like I should have better reasons. Here are my top four.

1. Flag Football - Though I suspect the women's open league maybe a little more competitive than the sorority league, I plan on dominating flag football at U of A. I have already started forming a team with the help of Tera Shea White. I'm still looking for recruits though. We might need to have tryouts though.

2. Did you know they let you have student tickets for your spouse? All I have to do is show a copy of our marriage license and Mark and I will have tickets to all home games for a dollar a piece.

3. I plan on rocking it out (learned that in college) with the few, the humble, the brave - the RUF crowd.

4. Furthering my education. Boring, right? Well, yeah - what do you expect?

Anyway, I am still coming to terms with this. I can't decide if I'm going to carry a backpack again or buy folders. My junior year of college I bought some Kitty folders as a joke, but I don't think people ever got that it was a joke. Every time I looked at those kitties though, I reinforced to myself that it was funny and not creepy.

I really am sort of nervous though. I've never tried working and going to school - not to mention this time around, I'm married, which of course is awesome. It feels a little scary going back - kind of like when I transferred to PA. Let me tell you, I found out really quickly that my almost knee high Nike socks were out of style. (Arkansas Baptist is a couple of months behind on fashion, and we did have uniforms).

It's hard being the new kid. I just hope there is a Mary Margaret at U of A who makes me feel welcome and cool, and who I can talk to about all my boy problems. JK - Mark and I have a perfect marriage. JK...Okay, yeah we do, so I don't know what I will talk about with this "Mary Margaret," but I hope she exists.

At least this time around, I don't have braces and acne, and I won't have to run line drills after class or go to class sweaty after playing "Killer" during basketball practice. That "game" still makes my lungs hurt...

Love through Domination

2009-07-08T14:11:00.001-05:00

So in case you didn't know we've decided to keep Maybe, our cat. We had some hesitations when we first got her in February. She was kind of sickly the first night, and I worried that she would be one of those cats that just hides under things and didn't do anything.

However, Maybe has proven herself. She has given us a few good laughs. See our youtube video of our Star Wars Cat, and give us a few more hits. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h8mcY1huVDE

I do wish that Maybe cuddled a little more. Every day I take her and hold her like a baby, and every day she squirms after about a minute. She also won't let you just pick her up and put her on your lap. It has to be on her terms. It's given Mark and I a chance to try out our parenting skills. We plan on writing a book called, "Love through Domination." I give all credit to Mark for the title.

Our basic premise is that we will dominate our pets/children, and they will eventually grow weary of trying to reject our love and then they will truly love us and see that we had their best interest in mind to begin with.

I've already seen signs that it works. Each time that I hold Maybe like a baby she lets me holder like that for a few seconds longer than the time before. Honestly, this is a tried and true method. For proof see the picture with me and my cat, Oscar. Contrary to popular belief, Oscar was not cold in this picture, but he was, in fact, totally dominated.

I'm fairly confident that this method will work on teenagers too. In fact, according to "Science Diet's - The Guide for Lifelong Health," Maybe at 6-months is already 13 in human years, so we pretty much know what its like to parent a teenager.

Love through Domination requires a lot of time. Mark and I make sure that we ridicule Maybe at least once a day. Mark recently told Maybe that if she misbehaved he would, "put your baby maker back in just so I could take it out again." That may sound harsh to you, but harshness, severity, punishment, and ridicule are the four basic values of Love through Domination.

I've always heard that shepherds would break the legs of the lambs who were constantly running away. Then the shepherd would carry the lamb and take care of the lamb. When the lamb finally healed, it would follow the shepherd anywhere because it had gained its trust. I feel like that sums up love through domination. So if you see our cat limping around the house then you can know that she's been loved to the fullest.

Going Green - It's so Hot Right Now

2009-06-25T16:29:00.001-05:00

In case you haven't heard going green is really trendy right now. It's almost as cool as WWJD wristbands were, but more socially conscious than morally conscious. Everything I've done to "go green" has really been more about keeping money in my pocket than trying to save the earth from pollution.

Mark and I were all about bottled water, and I really blame Fayetteville water. It all began when I went to the UofA in 2004. I quickly realized that I would face frequent dehydration if I didn't drink fluids, and Fayetteville water tasted gross. So what did I do? I started buying bottled water, and I didn't feel guilty at all about it. I continued to buy bottled water all throughout the next four years of college, and it didn't stop when I got off mom and dad's paycheck. I probably have drunk enough bottled water to fill up a landfill by myself. I will try to find it one day, and name it. I might even build a landmark on top of it.

Anyway, Mark and I bought bottled water up until a few weeks ago. I do think Springdale's water tastes a little better than Fayetteville's water, but it was really an economical decision (that and I don't like carrying bottled water to and from the car. I've gotten lazy, I know). But, I kind of feel better about myself you know - The way I did when I used to break the plastic on a six pack of coke, so that no ducks would get strangled.

I think a little bit of "green guilt" is okay. I once had a "brown bag lunch" (I was the only one with a brown bag) with a friend of mine who is from Seattle. Her husband used to work at Coke in the sustainability department. I've never felt more horrible about throwing away not only the brown bag that I brought my lunch in, but two water bottles, and the plastic bag that had kept my sandwich safe from the brown bag, while she brought out her tupperware, Nalgene, and take-home lunch box. I think I deeply disturbed her that day, but she refrained from calling me out on my anti-environmental lunch.

Anyway, it just reminded me that this "green guilt" wasn't even talked about in Arkansas, at least, until a few years ago. I wish I could tell you that because of that day, I recycle now, but I don't. It costs money to recycle in Springdale, and as I said I am more economical than green.

Now would be the time in this blog - where I tell you all the ways that I've decided to be socially responsible and list the steps I'm going to take to make sure that I take care of the earth, but I'm going to go with more of a Seinfield approach to this one...

I have to be honest - I think people have gone way too far with "going green," and it really tempts me to buy the biggest gas guzzling SUV that I can find and fill it with brand new diapers and water bottles and take it directly to a landfill. Here is a link to the article that really ticked me off. http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,525823,00.html, and I hate to say it comes from my beloved Fox News (Thank you Rupert Murdoch).

In case you are too busy recycling and composting your leftovers, let me break it down for you. With all the drama going around about Jon and Kate Gosselin, this article takes a look at how "un-green" their family is because of the fact that they have 8 kids, emitting carbon dioxide.

Here's a quote, "Sure, the family might have installed solar panels and made a fuss over recycling, but with eight little carbon footprints running around on the Earth, America's most televised family is hardly non-consumptive, charge some greenies."

As the youngest of five kids, I have to say that I'm glad my parents weren't too concerned about the carbon footprint that I might leave being their fifth child. In fact, this is the kind of stuff that has made me determine to emit carbon dioxide until the day that I die. I'm going to leave my carbon footprint wherever I go, and if I could, I would write my name on it. I will be really glad when Global Warming changes the temperature of my continent forever because I've always thought this earth was a little too cold too (especially in Chicago).

P.S. I saw that Kate Richardson has become a follower of my blog, and I'm ecstatic. Kate, I dedicate today's blog to you! :)

My Husband = Amazing

2009-06-22T14:29:00.002-05:00

Last night I had a horrible headache. I was really sensitive to light and just wanted to go to sleep. I asked Mark to tell me a story (instead of reading to me like he does sometimes). I knew a story would be better because then I didn't have to turn the light on, so Mark told me a story about a little boy who was taken away from his parents and forced to go to The Academy where he invented a time machine with his friend Chloe. I'd love to tell you what happened, but I fell asleep...

This is just one of the many reasons that he is the best husband in the world. Mark has won Husband of the Year two times already in '07, 08' and he's up for nomination in '09, which is pretty impressive, I must say. If you are wondering how he has won this award so many times then let me explain. I nominate him, write an essay, and a committee consisting of me looks over the applications and votes. I would definitely be willing to accept other nominations, but I will not be adding anyone to the voting committee.

Yes, it's all the little things.I started to make a list of all the little things he does for me, but that still doesn't really explain how great of a husband he is. I guess you will just have to take my word for it, but I am still amazed at how well God matched us together.

Mark makes jokes for the "studio audience" that is surely watching his life unfold as a sitcom. He will laugh at his own jokes, and I will tell him that it wasn't funny. He will then tell me that the studio audience is laughing. The joke was apparently for them, not me.

We have so much fun together. I am very jealous for Mark's time, and since I work part-time I am constantly looking at the clock, waiting for him to get home. (Don't worry, I try to be productive too. I don't just stare at the clock). But it's seriously like the day has just begun when he walks through the door.

I hate being publicly sentimental, but I just really want everyone to know that I truly have a great husband. I am so thankful that God brought us together. He has blessed us through marriage so much.

A Dream Come True

2009-06-08T14:34:00.002-05:00

When asked the ultimate question: dogs or cats?- I've always answered ambiguously that I like both. Dogs, at least big dogs, are truly (wo)man's best friend. They are always excited to see you. They always want to play with you and to have your attention. They truly enjoy your existence. Cats, on the other hand, have a bad reputation, and with good reason. They are a little moodier. They like their space. They choose who they will show affection towards and who they will not. A lot of people have a problem with this, but I don't. It would be hypocritical of me to not like cats because, honestly, based on those criteria I treat people more like a cat treats people than a dog. Sad, but true. Anyway, I've always had a dream. A dream for my cat and my dog to get along with one another, a dream that I thought I would never realize because of the social tension between the two species that has a long history of feuding, hissing, growling, and even, murder. (I once had a cat that was killed by a couple of dogs.) Fortunately, they weren't my dogs, but you might have thought that this event would make me believe that my dream could never be realized.

I never gave up on this dream. So in February when we adopted our new little kitten, Maybe, I hoped that she and Dexter, my dog since I was 15-years-old, would be friends. It was a slow process, and it didn't happen over night, but I am proud to say that Dexter and Maybe love each other. They are Milo and Otis, the Romeo and Juliet of the animal world, except that there love is purely platonic.

Please look at how much they love each other. You can really see the love on Maybe's face. She's practically glowing with satisfaction.

And here they are enjoying a summer afternoon together. I must say that I am a very proud that my cat and dog turned out so well. I just wanted to write this blog and give all you cat/dog owners hope - hope for a brighter future for your dog and cat. My dream has been realized. Yours can be too.

Blog - Diary or Magazine?

2009-06-03T16:47:00.001-05:00

So basically a blog is an entirely online diary that doesn't have a lock. I used to have a green diary, and it had a lock. It needed one too - all the private things I wrote were too personal for the rest of the world. In some ways, my diary was the most typical girl diary in the world. I would have hearts with my initials and the initials of my crush surrounded by a heart. It had a lot of drama too. I specifically remember one entry where one of my girl friends was hitting on my boyfriend and wrote him a note. He crumbled the note up and threw it in the trash, and I was like "take that, slut." (Except, I was only in 4th grade, so I probably didn't think those words exactly...)

However, my diary wasn't entirely girly because it was written by me. I was a tomboy. I can admit it. You know you were a tomboy when you honestly believe that you will wear a t-shirt and Umbro shorts to your wedding. I talked a lot about all the sports I played too and how many points I scored in soccer or basketball games. I even asked my future self if I had been in the Olympics. Essentially, my diary held the quintessential essence of my childhood.

But is a blog a diary? If so, I really need to find out how to draw hearts with Mark's and my initials on it. That's one of things that I can't figure out about a Mac. Is there no paint application?

Actually, I've decided that a blog is more like a personal news article, at least for some people. That's why you have to read all of the posts because though its like a news article - you don't get the full picture of "Magazine Me" by just reading one article.

If you only read the last article I read then you might think I just used my blog to vent, but it's just one section. The comments would be the letters to the Editor section , the Facebook article would be my pop-culture/humor section, the Easter article would be my "Did you Know?" section, and beyond that I can't remember what else I've written.

Anyway, I am open to writing for particular sections, so let me know if you have anything in my life or yours that I should write about. If I don't know what is going on in your life then it would give me a great chance to make up a deliciously fun story. By the way, I've just been reading a book by a British author, which is why I used the world "deliciously." Just FYI.

THE END.

(As if anything ever ends. Try wrapping your mind grapes around that one.)

The "Real" World...

2009-05-21T16:57:00.000-05:00

The real world has been hitting hard for the Bradley family lately. I won't go into details because it wouldn't do anybody any good and would only make me angry.

It just makes me realize how juxtaposed we are between the real world as we know it and see it through our eyes and the spiritual world, which is just as real but so intangible. It's hard not to get choked by the worries of this world. It would be so amazing to get a glimpse of how God is putting together the pieces in our lives even when we feel our puzzle is coming undone.

It's weird for me to be serious in my writing. I guess it's a good thing I have a small and, hopefully, nonjudgmental audience. I write best when I'm either carefree or angry. I usually come back later and throw away all the angry things I write. Sometimes I throw them away because I don't want people to read what I've written.

There was one time in high school where I lost off-campus lunches privileges for failing to follow the dress code (dumb). And for some reason I take it really personally when people get on to me when I feel that my motives are pure (I was wearing a t-shirt because I was on the track team and had a meet that day, and it wasn't my problem that the rest of the team wasn't notified. There were only like 5 of us anyway).

All that said, I got really angry and wrote some stuff on my notebook. It was full of the bitterest teenage angst and leaned toward sounding suicidal, but I also was playing to an audience of my friends who I read it to. They knew I was joking, but my Calculus teacher didn't. I later was asked by Ms. Holeman if I was "doing alright." I took from her non-verbals that she was really worried about me and realized that my teacher had something to her. That's when I learned that people take things like that really seriously. Anyway, that was a piece of work that got thrown away.

All that to say...I hate that we live in a fallen world. I hate that work is still a curse that must be endured, but if life didn't have disappointment, discouragement, and hard times then we might be tempted to make this world OUR world, to set up our kingdom here.

So it's at times like this when it's easier to say, "Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

The Swine Flu Cruise

2009-04-28T16:47:00.001-05:00

Swine Flu? Really?

I have been anticipating a 5-night Caribbean cruise since I first booked it three months ago. We have two ports we are supposed to visit. One is Cozumel, Mexico, and the other is Calica, Mexico. Yet it is less than a week away and the biggest headline this week: Swine Flu. (Oh yeah, and the U.S. government recommends that Americans refrain from going on all non-essential trips to Mexico).

Don't get me wrong. I hate being sick, so if I have to give up tanning on Isla de Passion so that I don't get swine flu that's just fine, but I have a feeling our little boat is going to go on a little circle cruise to nowhere because all the other cruises are going to be looking for new ports and on a 5 night cruise - you can only go so far.

I'm hoping that they will let us stop somewhere. Heck, I'd love to check out Cuba, and I hear they have a new friendlier administration. Maybe they'd open up their hearts to us. We could see all the sites - the Bay of Pigs, Havana, and Cigar World (I hear it's like Lego Land with miniature buildings made out of cigars and smokey roller coasters). That would be a real treat.

My sarcasm may sound a little whiney, but I'm really not. Perplexed and a little annoyed, but I really can't be that upset if my boat just takes a lap around the Caribbean. It's a heck of a lot better than having to worry about Somalian pirates.

And, I'm really thankful to have some time off work and just be with my husband (Hillary and Tony Davis too). This will be our first couples vacation. We've done a vacation with just the two of us (Honeymoon) and a family vacation (Autumn's wedding), so we are ready for our first couples trip.

We are taking some precautionary steps to prevent from getting Swine Flu on our cruise.

1. Packing TamiFlu

2. We will refrain from talking to other cruise passengers and will not let them in our intimate space (8 to 12 inches away from our faces).

3. We will be wearing shirts that say "contaminated," so that people won't come too close. (We will let the cruise security know that it's a joke so that we don't get quarantined).

I think those precautionary steps will really go a long way...

Breaking the Easter Basket

2009-04-10T13:14:00.001-05:00

Easter is probably my favorite holiday. I like the (usually) warm weather, Easter egg hunts, family get-togethers, the songs that we sing at church, and, most importantly, the reason that we celebrate Easter - the resurrection of Jesus Christ. He is risen indeed. If Christ had not risen then we would still be dead in our sins (see Corinthians 15).

A couple of years ago I was reading a book about pagan holidays and how Christians have taken them and made them Christian holidays. The book suggested that our word "Easter" comes from the name of the Babylonian and then later Greek goddess, Ishtar, the goddess of love and fertility.

Here is an excerpt from a website explaining the origins of Easter in better detail than I can do.

"When Nimrod (one of Noah great-grandson) his wife Queen Semiramis deified him as the Sun-god. In various cultures he later became known as Baal, the Great Life Giver, the god of fire, Baalim, Bel, Molech, etc.

“Later, when this adulterous and idolatrous woman gave birth to an illegitimate son, she claimed that this son, Tammuz by name, was Nimrod reborn.” Semiramis “claimed that her son was supernaturally conceived [no human father] and that he was the promised seed, the 'savior'” - promised by God in Genesis 3:15. “However, not only was the child worshipped, but the woman, the MOTHER, was also worshipped as much (or more) than the son!” Nimrod deified as the god of the sun and father of creation. Semiramis became the goddess of the moon, fertility, etc.

"In the old fables of the Mystery cults, their 'savior' Tammuz, was worshipped with various rites at the Spring season. According to the legends, after he was slain he went into the underworld. But through the weeping of his mother… he mystically revived in the springing forth of the vegetation - in Spring! Each year a spring festival dramatically represented this supposed 'resurrection' from the underworld."

(Then God uses the tower of Babel to scatter the people).

As the people scattered from Babel with their different languages, they, of course, used different names for Nimrod (Tammuz) and Semiramis. Some called the Mother Goddess “ISHTAR” (originally pronounced “Easter”)

Check out this website for more information.

I was really frustrated when I read about it because I, personally, had never associated Easter with pagan gods, and to me the Easter bunny was just something fun like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy - not some psycho ancient queen who cooked up her own religion and proclaimed herself to be a god.

I think it's a good thing to know, which is why I blogged about it, but the question is what she you do with this information? Should we break our Easter baskets in defiance of this pagan religion? Should we throw away our chocolate and creme filled eggs and sugary peeps?

I will not pretend to know exactly what God would have us do. Some church refuses to use the word "Easter" and instead call it "Resurrection Day." And some Christians like the ones at Last Trumpet Ministries International call Easter eggs and rabbits "antichrist activities, " going on to say, "These things are not a joke, any more than judgement day is a joke...These are the last days, and it is time to repent, come out, and be separate."

That's pretty tough, especially because I like Cadbury eggs. So where do I draw the line in the sand? First, I have no problem saying "Resurrection Day" rather than "Easter," but I don't know if I can go my whole life without referencing "Easter" in a sentence. At the same time, I know that Christians would have a harder time with "Baal" day or "Zeus" day, so in that context - it does bother me. I hate that Satan has been at work since the beginning of time, twisting people into believing his lies.

But I just don't think that Christians are worshipping Ishtar by having Easter egg hunts or making Easter baskets. I believe that just like I believe that non-believers aren't worshipping the one true God just by going to Church for "Easter Sunday." I believe worship is purposeful, not accidental.

I think (with the help of the Internet) that idolatry is "finding our security, safety, and meaning from someone or something other than God." By that definition, I would say that most people have a lot more idol options than the Easter Bunny, and that we as Christians have a responsibility to point towards Christ and what he did for us on the cross - that we should continue pointing past the cross and to the empty grave from which He arose.

I hope you all have a Happy Resurrection Day, but forgive me if I accidentally refer to it as Easter.

The Problem with Facebook

2009-04-06T16:01:00.001-05:00

I think part of the reason that I started this blog is to escape from Facebook. Part of me really wants to just delete my account, and I think I would if I could still keep up with everybody else. I remember a day before facebook. Some of you may remember it too - if you were born before 2004, which will only exclude my nieces and nephews, who are of course some of my avid blog readers. Back when it started facebook was a way for college students to connect, a way to cyber stalk multiple crushes at once (not that I did that), a way to share pictures...etc. Most of that hasn't changed...except I am out of college and married (no need to cyber stalk).

What has changed is that I feel like I cannot honestly display the real me on facebook. I have too many "friends" who aren't really friends, and to be honest, I don't want them to know what I am doing. I don't want them to really know about me from facebook...because that's not really knowing a person at all. Just because you can see my pictures, know my favorite TV shows, and see how incredibly hot my husband is doesn't mean you know me. In fact, I wish I had the heart to reject some people, but I feel like they are going to find out. Sometimes I accept them, so that they will get that e-mail that says they can look at my profile - then I go back and delete them later.

If I could talk to Mark Zuckerberg I would suggest that he make an "acquaintance request" and a "friend request." The acquaintance request would only give you access to the profile picture and the basic information about the person...that way I wouldn't have to worry about offending any of my 743 "friends," and I wouldn't have to worry that any of them would see me in my swimsuit. Don't get me wrong I'm not overly concerned that I don't look hot in all my pictures. I'm pretty sure I do, but that doesn't mean I want them to see those pictures.

It's just awkward really - having "friends" that I know through work. Don't get me wrong I have a couple of real friends through work. However, the Jenny that works at JDRF is quiet. She likes her desk orderly. She likes to organize things. She enjoys working on PowerPoints and prefers e-mails to phone calls. Truth be told, she is boring. As you know - both of you, (Lauren and Mary Margaret)- my only readers up to this point, I'm not really like that at all, which is why I speak of my work self in third person.

For some reason I just don't have an outlet to be the same person I am at home as I am at work, and so it goes that I feel awkward having these work "friends" check out "the real me" as seen on facebook. My only saving grace is that they can't see what I write on my other friends walls, my real friends that is. I just don't know how they would feel about me calling my friends "sluts" (which is a word that, to me, no longer means "a girl who acts like a prostitute or whore," but rather has taken the place of the outdated "girlfriend."

Consider it in a sentence.

Denotative: That slut sleeps around with every guy she knows. She must be a Tri-delt. (kidding)

Connotative: Hey slut, how's it going? When are we going to hang out again?

Anyway, there are other things too. I don't want to offend anyone with my love for Bill O'Reilly, who so many left-wingers just hate. I had something on my profile about how I love his show, and I thought that it might offend some of my "friends."

I used to worry about my mom and my parent's friends being on facebook, but I got over it. I did, however, have a MAJOR problem with finding out that my newest nephew was born from my mom's status on facebook. The problem was immediately addressed, and I don't anticipate it happening again. I'm glad that Ellen is enjoying the facebook world. She can probably enjoy it more than me because she probably has more friends than "friends." And although I know she's seen me call my friends "sluts" and make other somewhat inappropriate comments - I'm sure she would too if she could get away with it. Honestly, that would make my day if I saw Ellen write on one of her friends' walls, "Hey Slut, haven't seen you in a while. Can't wait to catch up with you after Mom's and More sometime."

All that to say, I don't intend to have a link from my facebook profile to my blog. So to all my many, many readers "caveat lector," which, of course, in latin means "let the reader beware." My blog will be real and true to me. I will not censor myself. If you can't be real on a blog then where can you be real? Apparently, not on facebook. (I hope all of you caught the irony in that second to last sentence.)

The Creative Side of Me

2009-04-04T08:45:00.000-05:00

Every once in a while, I will wake up with a thousand amazing ideas crashing through my head at the same time, and when I say "amazing," I mean that at the time, I am fully confident that I was providentially woken up to accomplish something. For example, I've had mornings where I've woken up with thoughts for a book that has to be written right then, before I lose the thought. However, when I truly start thinking about the book, I realize that it's a bunch of dream-induced thoughts that probably wouldn't make a good story, which leads me to this morning. I woke up with a strong desire to create a blog, but then I looked at the clock - 7:43 a.m. on a Saturday. I tried to go back to sleep, but it was to no avail. I kept thinking about all the things I could write about, things that are much to amazing to keep to myself. I thought perhaps I could write about Mark's and my love story - that I could share part of the journal that I kept for a year and half before we got married and gave to him the day before our wedding, but there is another part of me that thinks, "No, that's way too personal. I will just write about our cat and our dog and what we are doing. But do you really care about that? Do you really want to know about our crazy cat's antics or how my dog likes to chew on water bottles?"

So, I thought about why I look at other people's blogs. Mostly I look at them because they have pictures of their babies/kids. How can I compete with that? Yes, it is a competition otherwise Paul wouldn't have said, "Run in such a way that you may win." I could possibly be taking that out of context...

Anyway, we will see where this leads. Most likely it will lead to intermittent ramblings, but I'm hoping it will give the creative side of me a rest for now.