Simply Adrienne

Presenting Daisy G. & a Prayer Request

2012-02-12T09:12:00.000-08:00

A week ago, I was spending Super Bowl Sunday packing bags, finishing last minute laundry, and attempting to relax before the scheduled big event on Monday morning. I think I did a fairly decent job of relaxing too, considering the cornucopia of emotions coursing through my veins. We glanced at the Super Bowl some that night, but didn't pay too much attention to it or the commercials. I've had to be reminded that the Giants won several times, though I did enjoy listening to Madonna perform the halftime show.

Bart let me watch Downton Abbey after the Super Bowl for a change. Usually he asks that I wait to watch when he's not around. I vaguely remember watching it as well. Then we went to bed and tried to get some sleep. We knew it would be difficult to do, but we didn't know exactly how difficult that task would be.

Around two am (three and a half hours before we had to be at the hospital), I got up to go to the bathroom. It happened so gradually that I didn't know what it was, but I spent the next hour going back and forth to the bathroom because even though we had already scheduled a cesarean, my water was breaking!!!

Lucy sensed something was wrong, woke up Bart, and had to go outside for a little diarrhea. Then she laid down on me in bed, trying to take care of me. By three, I was still in denial about being in labor, because the contractions were so light and sporadic, but got up to shower. I then proceeded to shave my legs (as best I could), put on makeup, and straighten my hair for the day. Yeah, I did that while in labor. Lucy stuck to me like glue during this time.

We decided to leave early for the hospital, which is thankfully just a stone's throw from our house. We went to the room where they were to prep me and they hooked me up to all the necessary monitors. Yep, I was in labor, and my engineer husband thought it was "so cool" to be able to watch my contractions and how heavy they were. I wasn't so impressed.

It seemed like forever (but wasn't really) before the anesthesiologist came in to talk to us, then Dr. Hinton came in to see us. After that, it went pretty quickly. The crew at Willow Creek is just awesome and I couldn't have been in better hands. My spinal was done fairly painlessly, then Dr. Hinton came in, they brought in Bart, and after a few minutes, they held this wide-eyed screaming, beautiful thing up for me to see.

Bart went over and cut her cord, then brought her for me to see all cleaned. She was beautiful, and I had the privilege of watching Daddy fall in love at first sight. Her screams were even beautiful, though they didn't last long. Once she was swaddled up and in Daddy's arms, she was good.

The rest of the day is very much a blur. Actually the next few days have been a blur of sorts. Daisy is a very good girl and mostly just cries when she has a reason. While at the hospital, she would only cry when she was hungry, dirty, wet, or naked. She has since kept me up all night one night, but we realized that was because she was cold.

Right now, I'm still so enamored with her and grateful for her health that I love hearing her banshee screams. They're truly a blessing. Everything about her is. Monday afternoon or evening, I posted this on Facebook: "Everyone, thank you for the prayers. Each one was felt and much appreciated. We're so thankful to God for this incredible blessing of a baby girl He has given us." At the time, I didn't realize just how true this was.

A little while later, I remembered a tweet I saw from a former coworker the night before that I had to put out of my mind on Sunday night regarding how two of her former coworkers had babies pass away in the past year. I had a very, very uneasy feeling about it, but ~~didn't~~ couldn't think about it then. On Monday night, while Bart and Lorelai were both out of the room, and after the visitors had left, I messaged the friend on Facebook about it. Sadly my suspicions were correct.

Our friend Amanda was one of the first people I told that I was pregnant on the day I found out. She was also one of the friends who cried with me two years ago when we had our miscarriage. When I told her I was pregnant, she came up to me and told me that she was too. We progressed through our pregnancies together at work, comparing sicknesses, and all the other little things about pregnancy. We planned play dates for our little girls, who it turned out would probably be born just days from each other.

From what I've gathered they went into labor Saturday night, and were in labor all Sunday. Around the time of the end of the Super Bowl though the baby had been born, but they couldn't get her to breathe. Bart and I are devastated for our friends, especially because of the similarity in our situations and how they could easily have been reversed. We've been praying constantly for our friends and asking others for their prayers as well.

Our hearts are full of joy at the advent of our precious baby girl, but they're also breaking for our friends. Another former coworker had a baby early Friday morning. It should have been one heck of week for all of us. I can't imagine going to the hospital and never being able to bring home our little girl, nor can I imagine trying to put life together again after or my body going through all the changes of having given birth without the reward. Having lost a baby at eight weeks was the most difficult thing I ever had to experience. Losing a full-term baby at birth is devastating. I am for devastated for them. Keep all of us in your prayers, but especially Dan and Amanda.

The Really Important Decisions

2012-02-02T17:52:00.000-08:00

We are now less than four days away from birthing this baby. Her room upstairs is set up, she has clothes galore, the pack-n-play is prepared for her in our downstairs bedroom, she has bottles, diapers, a car seat, a stroller, and little things from nail trimmers to pacifiers. Now it's time for me to pack her bag for the hospital, and I'm having a difficult time with some of the most important decisions. What's a girl to wear for her first photo shoot and for when she comes home from the hospital?

First of all, though her Daddy is thrilled with her being a girl, he's not very into big bows and ruffles. While I can tolerate some bows and ruffles, Daddy is having a difficult time realizing that little girl clothes have a tendency to be well... girly.

I'm leaning toward something nice but not too extravagant for when we bring her home, because Bart and I have been discussing that for that one day, it should just be the five of us: Bart, Adrienne, Daisy, Lucy, and Dory. Lucy and Dory have never spent a night at home without me, so after a few days of my being at the hospital, they're going to be excited. Then, we have to introduce them to their sister, and the more we think about it, the more we realize that it will be best if it's just us that first day so everyone can calm down as soon as possible.

Since I have no idea what Miss Thang looks like either, I don't really know what I want her to take her picture in. It's not like it's going to be the most professional picture either. So, I think we're going to stick with duckies and kitties.

Source: carters.com via Adrienne on Pinterest

Calling a Turd a Diamond

2012-02-01T18:34:00.000-08:00

Soap Box Alert!!!

The above picture was taken the day of Bart the day of our wedding by our wedding photographer. This is what is well known in our family as Bart's pasted on grin he often uses when he's getting his picture taken. It isn't natural, and quite honestly it's a little frightening. However to me, it's a perfect example of posing and reality in photographs as well as in the real world.

Over the years, I've made no secret how I have come to prefer candid photographs as opposed to those where the subjects are posed, often in awkward positions that are far from normal or comfortable. Well in all honesty, I feel the same about people too.

What, you may ask do I mean? Simple. There are many people in the world who live their lives with a fake, pasted on, grotesque smile upon their faces all the time. You never see the real person beneath that veneer, because they probably don't even know that person themselves. Everything about them is false from their supposed concern for you and others to their own happiness.

You see, I've found that you can polish a turd, you can tell yourself that it's a diamond, and you can tell other people that it's a diamond. You and some of those people may actually believe that it's a diamond, especially if no one really wants to actually do anything to clean it up, but in the end it's still a turd. There's nothing genuine at all about it, and in truth it stinks to high heaven.

Over Christmas we received several Christmas cards with photos of families and children. One card in particular quite honestly broke my heart. You could tell that the children in the card weren't happy. They just looked troubled and sadly unhappy. They were obviously being posed for the picture, because their parents are the epitome of the type who pose in pictures and in real life. I'm sure if their parents were ever asked if their children or family was happy, they would of course say that they are, but eyes don't lie and those eyes held no joy. I imagine it's because rather than being surrounded by the diamonds of life, they live with a truck full of shiny, polished turds.

Somewhere along the way, I lost all patience for all of the polished turds of the world. I refuse to call a turd a diamond, and I don't really want to be around people who choose to fill their lives with turds. I especially don't want my daughter to think that's a healthy way to live, or that those are the values that Bart and I live by. In the end, happiness doesn't come from polished turds, be they brand-new houses in the country, or new cars that give a false feeling of security. Happiness comes from the genuine diamonds of life: trust, honesty, friendship, stability, true security, respect, and love. You can't fake true diamonds. They come shining through in the most unexpected, candid moments.

Below is a candid picture I took of Bart once upon a time. This is the Bart that I love. This is the real Bart, and his actual smile. There is nothing fake or pasted on here. It is genuine. Why would anyone prefer the posed when you can have the candid? I just don't understand people who do. It must get very tiring slopping sugar all over creation, trying to prove that you're a good person, trying to prove that you're happy. I'd rather just be really happy, really real, and to just be good because goodness is a product of being genuine.

Pinned

2012-01-20T11:55:00.000-08:00

For ages I've seen several people mention and post things that they've found on Pinterest. For the longest time, I've resisted joining or asking for an invite to join because I always felt I needed a smart phone to use it. Recently I became curious about it, and when I saw that one of my Facebook friends had invited me to join, I decided to give it a try today.

I'm still not quite sure about it, but I'm giving it a go. I mean, who shouldn't try a new social network two weeks before having a baby? It's not like I don't have anything else going on right now. :)

My only complaint is that there's not an iPad app for it. There's an iPhone / iPod app, but not and iPad one. Come on guys, join the tablet revolution!

iMessage'd

2012-01-12T08:18:00.000-08:00

This week I found out what it was like to be nine months pregnant, have a husband in the far reaches of another state, and to not even have a phone at my disposal. The funny thing is that I didn't know that I was without a phone - I just thought things were quiet. Then, around 11 or so Monday night, Bart messaged my iPad on iMessage (a wonderful too for those of us too cheap to pay for texting but have iOS machines such as iPod Touches, iPhones, and iPads) asking if I was on my phone.

Uh, of course not. I'm not a phone talker, especially when there are better things to do like.... sleep. I'm more likely to email, message, or even write a letter to someone than call them up on the phone. My phone is still basically just for talking to Bart when he's out of town, making appointments, and other absolutely necessary things.

So anyway, I checked my phone and it said, "Check SIM. Emergency calls only." Well, at least I could still call 911 if I needed to, but I was pretty sure that my phone was toast, and other than having to spend money on another one, I didn't really mind. I still hate my phone, because it's not my phone. It's Bart's old phone, because I lost my phone last year in one of our freak snows, and rather than spend money on one last year, I just got a new SIM card for his old PoS.

So, I didn't have a phone and for once I almost wished that I had one. Yesterday morning I bent over too long trying to trim my toenails and quite honestly got a little woozy. I ended up having to lie down for a while and scared the crud out of my nurses, Lucy and Dory.

I was fine after a while, but of course it had to happen when I had sort of no phone and no husband anywhere near. Once I was able to get around, I took the PoS to the At&t store, and right now a new SIM card has fixed the issue, but I think we're going to have to break down and just buy me a new phone some time.

Thankfully for iMessage though. Bart and I were still able to communicate as much as possible while he was away.

Those With the Weird Names

2012-01-10T17:12:00.000-08:00

You know, I'm not sure whether or not to be more disgusted at Jay-Z and Beyonce for having the audacity to take over an entire floor of a hospital to accommodate their entourages for the birth of their oddly named daughter, or disappointed that the hospital actually allowed such a thing to take place, despite how inconvenienced the rest of the patients there were. For all the shouting from the rooftops celebrities make about equal rights and such, they're far too eager to displace regular people for their own comforts whenever they fancy to do so. Sadly, there will always be people who will allow these things to happen.

I've met a few minor celebrities over time, while working at the TV station. They're just people, you know, really no better than you or I. They may have jobs that put them in the public eye, but they shouldn't be worshiped or adored, and they certainly shouldn't be given preferential treatment at places like hospitals and NICUs. Their children are no more a miracle than anyone else's. They just often have weirder names than most of us would bother to hang upon our children.

Finally, At Long Last!

2012-01-09T14:20:00.000-08:00

Last night it finally came, the night I've been waiting for since last Spring. The night I've been anticipating for months. No, no sillies not the birth of Daisy. That's still hopefully not happening until February 6th. Last night was the long awaited US premiere of Downton Abbey Season 2! (Had you going there for a moment, didn't I?)

Friday I managed to travel with Bart up to Springfield, MO to finally pick up Daisy's crib. That seriously exhausted what energy I have left these days. That night, our friends Brandon and Erin came by to watch Arkansas win the Cotton Bowl with us, which was great. The next day, Bart's mom and dad came back up here to help finish painting Daisy's room among other things. By last night I was honestly too tired to stay up to watch Downton Abbey, and Bart and I always watch Desperate Housewives and Pan Am together anyway. So, today I took a day of rest and devoted time to watch both the PBS version of Downton Abbey that I DVR'd last night and then the iTunes version that I had purchased weeks ago with a gift card my Mom got me for Christmas.

I seriously needed the day of rest, because I've been so tired the last several nights that I was actually too tired to sleep much. I'm still doing things around the house that need done, but I'm doing them at my slow, waddle-like pace. I'm thrilled that everything is basically ready for Daisy's arrival, but I just can't go ninety to nothing anymore. I can't wait to have some of my stamina back, but I have no desire to push myself right now. I don't want Miss Thang to come any earlier than she's supposed to.

Back to Downton.... At last, something great to watch on TV again!!! American TV has nothing on this and could learn a thing or two about great writing and acting. I won't give too much away, especially because my friends and I are planning a discussion online about it Wednesday, but I just want to say a few things. I don't care for new maid Ethel. Michelle Dockery and Dan Stevens could teach classes on long, lingering looks as Matthew Crawley and Lady Mary Crawley. Maggie Smith as the Dowager Countess is irreplaceable. Lastly, I still love Lord Grantham's dog.

Sick "Kid" At Christmas

2011-12-23T19:09:00.000-08:00

We may not be parents in the truest sense of the word until February, but in having two retrievers who are very much like our children, we go through a lot of the trials that normal parents do with Lucy and Dory. There's everything from trips to the ER for random odd accidents and being woke up in the middle night by a girl with a belly ache or vomiting. Tonight, we're sort of experiencing one of those occurrences that happens at least once with most parents: one of our "kids" seems to be getting sick at Christmas.

My mom came by today to celebrate Christmas with us, and Dory started shaking her head a lot, a whole lot for just one day. Tonight after dinner, Bart and I took a look at her ears, and her right one is very red and inflamed. We applied some ear wash to it, and may run to Walgreens or the Neighborhood Market to get some regular Listerine for it and see how she is when we get up in the morning. Then, if she's still shaking her head a lot, we'll see if our vet's office is going to be open at all tomorrow morning, even though it's Christmas Eve.

I'm afraid that for once, it won't be open. If that's so, it will surely be Tuesday before we can get her in there (it's not bad enough for an ER visit - yet). Now that we know which ear is bothering her, I've noticed that she lays down with that particular ear down. When I tried to rub her head some a bit ago, she didn't want that ear rubbed either.

I'm about to give her some Benadryl to see if it will help some. I'm feeling guilty for letting her hang her head out the window in the cold air Wednesday night while driving them around the Fayetteville Square, so they could look at the Lighs of the Ozarks, then we did it again a little last night while slowly driving around a few neighborhoods, looking at lights.

I wouldn't let a kid EVER do that, and I have to remember that if I have to have the heater up high in the front seat, I shouldn't let my girls hand their heads out the window, no matter how badly they want to. I have to be the MOM in these instances too. I just know that their head hanging days are going to be greatly reduced once Daisy comes, because she absolutely won't need that wind in her face and ears, and I want them to enjoy it while they can. I guess this is just a lesson in that I can't be their friend, because I'm their Mom.

A Few Quick Updates

2011-12-22T15:34:00.000-08:00

On December 16th, we celebrated the fourth anniversary of the day we brought home our first baby girl, Miss Lucy Snowflake. We have officially had her half of our married lives now, and we can't imagine not having her or Dory.

On Tuesday the 2oth, Bart and I celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary by going to our 32 week prenatal appointment and scheduling my C-section for February 6th. It's getting scary real now, ya'll. :) Really though, I'm more than ready, because I can't wait to meet Miss Thang, and to slowly recover my body. I already get all teary-eyed when I see that Pampers "Silent Night" commercial with the sleeping babies.

X or Y Can't It Just Be a Blessng Either Way?

2011-12-19T19:17:00.000-08:00

"Whatever happened to people just saying they hope you have a healthy baby?" - Bart, tonight at dinner.

I grew up in a family where a baby (or babies in some cases) was always a blessing, whether it was a boy or a girl. In the Scott family, we just love babies, male or female, because they're wonderful, sweet blessings. As I grew older I noticed some families only seemed interested in babies of a certain gender, especially boys. Those families often bestowed favoritism to a boy child the same age as a girl, while the girl was treated indifferently. This is something that bothers me greatly, not just because I'm having a girl, but because it just seems wrong. We no longer live in the age of primogeniture, the firstborn child of Prince William and Kate Middleton doesn't even have to be a boy to inherit the crown first anymore. I understand the desire to continue a family's name somewhat, but I HATE that girls are still often seen as inferior children - that the parents of girls are somewhat considered to be failures at childbearing in some way.

I'm very happy today to be able to announce that Daisy will be getting a cousin in July. I'm thrilled, in fact, for Bart's brother and sister-in-law. I'm wasn't very thrilled with a comment that one of Bart's cousins made on Facebook regarding their pregnancy, "Let's hope for a boy..." though. This, after Bart called his Mema (same side of the family) when we found out Daisy is a girl and she said, "Oh, I hoped for a boy..." just brought up some feelings Bart and I try to ignore that are sometimes brought about by his extended family. I hate the idea that my little girl might be loved less by some family members because she has two X chromosomes, and her cousin might not.

I have to remind myself that I don't really care what most of these members of Bart's extended family think. They already treat him somewhat like a third-rate family member anyway and his younger brother like a heroic saint (not that he's not a great guy, but so is Bart). It bothers Bart somewhat, but I get a little more bent out of shape every time Bart is slighted by them yet they make a big deal about his brother or something. It's not jealousy, it's that we both do notice the difference in how they're both treated, and I hate for Bart to be hurt by anyone, especially family whom he loves. I get offended for him, and I know I will for Daisy as well. I'm protective of those I love. Period.

Thankfully most of Bart's family (especially his parents and maternal grandparents) is happy about BOTH of the babies coming, be they boy or girl. It's just that Bart brought up his cousin's comment at dinner tonight, so I know that it had to bother him just a little, or he wouldn't have mentioned it. We love our little girl and can't wait to meet her. We're thrilled we get to get another peek at her tomorrow afternoon on our wedding anniversary.

For Want Of A Staff

2011-12-16T11:41:00.000-08:00

Last night, as I sat here at what has become mine and Bart's shared desk in the living room, addressing our Christmas cards which just arrived via UPS yesterday evening, I envisioned myself akin to an Elizabeth Darcy, sitting at her own desk in either her private sitting room in Pemberley, working on her correspondence. As my wrist ached, it occurred to me that I'm thrilled that I don't have to spend half of my time actually writing out letters to this and for that. That's what email, instant messaging, texting (if you're not me), and telephones are for now - and thank goodness. I don't have a manor house full of staff to worry about preparing meals, cleaning up, or doing the laundry. I even have to ****GASP!**** bathe and dress myself EVERY DAY!

Let me tell you too, that as we get closer THE BIG DAY, bathing and dressing myself are becoming herculean tasks too. I honestly could use a staff of ladies' maids to help me into my clothes, though I don't think I would like it all too much. I've watched too many episodes of Downton Abbey and the remake of Upstairs Downstairs to want the downstairs staff talking about anything and everything I do. I guess I'll just have to remain Adrienne, mistress to one house, wife to a very good man, and mother to two retriever dogs and a baby on the way. That's not all that bad though.

Merry Christmas

2011-12-08T20:18:00.001-08:00

Photo Card

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Feeling Christmas

2011-12-06T15:55:00.001-08:00

I have Christmas music playing over the Apple TV, the lights turned on the Christmas tree, and Lucy and Dory wearing festive scarves, attempting to feel somewhat Christmasy. It's not that I'm all Bah Humbug, I'm just not feeling the season very much yet. The most I've felt it so far was last Friday night, when Bart and I went to Academy to purchase a couple of bikes for our church's annual Christmas Store. I think that's part of the problem. Christmas shopping makes me feel Christmasy, because I like getting gifts for those I love, and we're toning down our gift giving this year because of the impending baby.

There's also that knowledge that next Christmas there'll be a ten month old baby girl to take to see Santa Claus, to buy pretty Christmas outfits for from dresses to pajamas, to decorate the house for, to take looking at Christmas lights, and to shop for. I can honestly say that I'm past the point of looking forward to Christmas to find out what gifts "Santa" will bring me. Bart and I both are.

We've both been aware of this the past few Christmases and have both made comments along the lines of "We need kids," because we're ready to experience that Christmas magic through their eyes. I think that's what Christmas becomes as we grow older. We long for that warm, fuzzy of our childhood Christmases, but you cannot reproduce the main ingredient of those days, innocence, you can only experience it by making it magical for one who truly is still innocent.

That's why I think it's important to give something to a charity for children at this time of year. I'm thankful that our church provides a way for us to give while sharing the true story of Christmas. I love the idea of the Christmas Store, and I also love giving to the Arkansas Baptist Childrens' Homes, because those poor kids deserve every happiness they can get this time of year, considering everything they've most likely been through and lack most of all - a mom and a dad.

Every year before Daisy will be allowed to even give "Santa" a list of what she wants for Christmas, I want her to help us pick out toys for the Christmas Store, because I want her to know first hand how much better it is to give than to receive. Like I've always said about Lucy and Dory, I also say for Daisy, I pray she never has to find out first hand how good and blessed our life really is.

We truly are blessed. We have a baby on the way, Bart has a good job, I'm able to stay home already, we have a secure roof over our heads, food on our plates, two sweet canines who light up our days, and friends and family abound. Hmm.... maybe in writing this I'm starting to feel Christmas after all.

Can we play with my train yet?

I think I broke my train.

Words & Phrases NOT To Say To Your Pregnant Wife

2011-12-01T16:32:00.001-08:00

Chubby
Thick
Round
Rounder
Big
Beached Whale
The Old Adrienne
Do you want to look at the Victoria's Secret Catalog?

Keep The Change Coming

2011-11-29T18:18:00.001-08:00

Changes. Life is rather full of them. Since last I posted, I have left my job at the TV station, and we've celebrated another Thanksgiving. Though I'm still sure every day that I made the right decision regarding becoming a stay at home mom, it was very difficult to leave the work family that I've been a part of for over five years. Though I had been looking forward to it beforehand, when the time came, I hated for five o'clock to strike. Saying goodbye to friends is never easy. In fact, it was so difficult that I didn't hang around long yesterday when I went to pick up my final check stub.

Of course, it wasn't as though I didn't have a few hundred things to do either, and I knew that I was libel to stick around far longer than I needed to. So, I left and walked across the street to pick up Bart's dry cleaning, then proceeded to Walmart to buy groceries, and then the meat market to buy some respectable beef and pork chops for the coming week.

That's pretty much what the past week and a half been like until today too. Both Monday and Tuesday of last week, I had errands to run or be present and available for at home. Then on Wednesday we were off to Little Rock to spend Thanksgiving with Bart's maternal grandparents.

The changes never end, which is good I guess. While there, we discussed other changes that will be going on in the family, beyond Daisy coming into the family in February. Bart's grandmother even let us buy a turkey from Honey Baked Ham in order to help some with the kitchen work. We've been trying to get her to let us do that almost as long as I've been a member of the family.

Late Thursday night we got home, and Bart's brother Boone followed us with his dog Apache to spend the night and watch the Arkansas / LSU game with us on Friday. Poor Apache was worried that something had happened to Lucy and Dory when she got here, because we couldn't pick them up from Camp Bow Wow until Friday morning. The poor girl looked all over the house for her friends and was visibly worried about them. It was then that we remembered that every time she has visited Bart's parents' house in the past year, another of the family pets has passed away. First it was Lica the grand dame of the family puppy dogs, then Soot, my MIL's sweet old cat. She probably thought the same had happened to Lucy and Dory since her last visit from Colorado Springs. That would be really devastating to her, since she and Dory are the same age and have been bestest buds since they were little puppies.

There was much joy and happiness when Lucy and Dory came home Friday morning, though Dory was so tired from camp she didn't play very much. Thankfully Lucy was more than willing to play with Miss Apache. That was a bit a of change too, because in the past Lucy has been rather indifferent to Apache, if not jealous of when Dory played with her. Lucy is a great big sister to Dory though, and acts like one now to Apache too.

I'm now officially in my third trimester, and I can tell. The folks at What to Expect are very correct, I'm feeling a lot of what I felt in the first trimester already. I'm tired all the time now, but got to where I could no longer stand the heart burn and as of last Monday am on Nexium. I was all but miserable and had to take care of that as soon as I could. Thankfully, it is working wonderfully.

While Boone was here, we got rid of both of the old desks we had in Daisy's room, which was a computer room / office for years. Her room is just about ready to be repainted and for her crib. Bart and I are both using the large desk we bought last summer for the living room for his iMac and my Macbook. He even moved it to another place in the living room to make room for where my recliner will eventually sit, and before that - the Christmas tree.

Christmas. That season is already upon us. I guess the biggest change regarding Christmas for us this year, is that the sooner it's over, the sooner we meet Daisy. Next Christmas will be the really great and interesting one.

Like I said, life is constantly changing, but I guess it would be dull without the changes. I for one, hope the good changes just keep on coming.

Thinking of Changing...

2011-11-17T09:20:00.001-08:00

... my URL. I've had this url for several years now, and I think it's probably time to change it for security's sake. What do you think? Leave a comment if you want to know what it is WHEN I figure out what it will be.

Restoring the Soul

2011-11-15T08:12:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you aren't aware how badly you need to get away from the every day things of life and have a "restoreth my soul" break. Even when you are aware that it needs to be done from time to time, you forget how badly it's needed until you actually do it.

Back in the early Spring when we took our last trip to spend a quiet weekend on the White River at Gaston's, Bart and I knew that we would need to do it again in the fall. At the time we weren't aware that that the trip in the Fall might possibly be our last trip for a long while, because of the addition of a little Daisy to our family though. Of course that knowledge made it just a little more important to get away while we still could.

It seems as though we've both been hitting the ground running with little time for any sort of rest or relaxation for far too long. Even with this being my last week at work, the next several weeks look crazy busy, what with the holidays, increased doctor's visits, and the sort. Just this morning Bart let me know how his work schedule is already filling up for pretty much the rest of the year.

So, we really needed a long weekend away from all of that. We packed up the truck, loaded up the girls, and set out Friday for our favorite place to "get away" from everything. We met Bart's mom and dad (also in dire need of a "get away") just as we got there.

Everyone was happy to be there, but the guys and the dogs were the happiest. Bart was taking Dory to potty outside not long after we got there, when she saw Bart's dad and barked for him. Bart let her go, thinking she would run to Lonnie. Nope, she ran past Lonnie and jumped into the river, Thundershirt and all. She just had to get it out of her system. Not long after that, the guys had to throw a line out and get fishing out of their systems as well. Only, unlike the previous few times we'd been, they started catching fish right away. For all of us, that in itself made the trip worth it. It's amazing how long a successful fishing trip can make the Gilbreath men happy.

I didn't fish any. I didn't want to. I just enjoyed being there. After taking care of the girls' needs early Saturday morning, I got up before there were any fishermen out yet and took several picture of the sunrise. This will probably be my last trip to photograph the sunrise on the White River for quite some time. Thankfully I got several good shots.

The girls got to spend some time in the river, which is always their favorite part of the trip. They would probably have been allowed to spend more time swimming, if Lucy hadn't started tackling Dory, holding her under water while playing football.

We were all exhausted once we got home Sunday. Thankfully Bart and I both took yesterday off from work. There was no way we could have worked yesterday. I especially had no energy at all. It was a good tired, though. After everything, I'm ready to face my last four days at the station actually rested and without stress. I'm thrilled to feel able to enjoy my last week at a place where I love and will miss the people.

Lucy, napping with Lonnie by the fire.

One of Bart's catches.

Sweet Lambie

2011-11-09T09:30:00.000-08:00

In December, we'll be driving up to Springfield, MO to pick up Daisy's crib and possibly some other things from Bella Baby. We're traveling to Springfield, because it's the closest place that sells this, Daisy's crib. Wanting something sturdy and also seeing the advantage of buying a crib and the corresponding slats that can convert the bed into eventually a full-sized bed just seemed too advantageous, and the color of the wood is probably the closest we can find in a new crib that will go with the very good chest we have in Daisy's room already, as well as the glider that will be moved upstairs from the living room (Momma's getting her own recliner for Christmas), and some other things.

We've also picked out and need to order sometime her bedding. Bart picked it out from Pottery Barn Kids. It's called Sweet Lambie. We may even get the Pink, rather than the White, just to add some color to Daisy's room. No, neither of us has suddenly become crazy about pink, we just really like the simple design of the bedding and aren't offended by this use of pink.

Anyway, just wanted to share!

♥Need Lubs?♥

2011-11-07T13:31:00.000-08:00

"Do you need lubs?" I ask either Lucy or Dory or both of them at any random time. Whomever I am asking will usually come to me with her head down so we can nuzzle, hug, and kiss each other. Then usually the other one will come over, because she needs her fair share of love too.

It's a common enough occurrence at our house, especially when I'm either about to leave or just returned home. When people who don't know much about dogs first see my girls, they just see two big dogs that are probably uncontrollable. Yes, there are times when they get overly excited and have to be calmed down, but most of the time they're more like this. They're two sweet girls who love to love and be loved. They are the Queens of Cuddles, and honestly there is little as comfortable as snuggling with one or both girls on a cold, dreary day.

There was a thread recently on one of the pregnancy forums I often lurk titled, "I Hate My Dog." The original poster was complaining because the dog that she adopted a few years ago and is now neglecting barks too much and is destroying things. Hmm.... maybe the dog is crying out for attention? She was planning on dumping him at the shelter some time. I imagine if dumped, he'll likely be euthanized.

I can't understand people like this. I don't want to understand them. They decide they want a dog, but they have no idea what having a dog really entails. A dog should not be just a lawn ornament that is (hopefully) given food and water once a day. A dog is an individual who longs to be a part of a family. Most dogs crave human interaction and love, and they'll do just about anything for you in order to obtain that love. When they are lacking interaction, exercise, and affection, then they'll act out on a regular basis.

People use pregnancy all the time as a excuse to get rid of their pets. They claim they won't have the time to devote to their pets. In all honesty, they probably never devoted much time to them to begin with. Bringing a pet into your home should always be looked at as a lifetime commitment, never just a temporary one - even though pets do not live as long as we do. They rely on us for their every need and happiness.

I do not intend to get rid of either of my girls once Daisy is born. It won't always be easy with all of them together, but we'll find ways to make it work. They're all my girls, they all always will be, and I have a feeling once they get used to her Lucy and Dory will be entirely devoted to Daisy.

The Simple Things I Love:

2011-11-02T10:16:00.000-07:00

There's a Jim Brickman / Rebecca Lynn Howard song that sort of became one of our defacto wedding songs way back in the day called "The Simple Things." The lyrics basically talk about how wonderful the simple things in life are, how every day is a new blessing filled with wonderful, simple things that make life wonderful. So here's a list of the simple things I've noticed lately that make each day a different blessing. Since it's just been the girls and me at home this week, they're going to be fairly doggy centric.

I love that even though she turned four years old on Sunday, Lucy is still enough of a puppy that she likes to pounce on leaves rustling in the wind.
I love that even though they usually both cuddle up with Bart during the night, I usually wake up with one, if not two dogs cuddled up with me in the mornings. Dory usually cuddles up with my belly for a pillow, sleeping next to Daisy for a bit.
I love how Bart likes looking for little girls' clothes.
I love the kicks and flutters that remind me there's always someone with me these days.
I love that even though my husband works long hours and is often out of town, I can completely trust him.
I love that I can have a little caffeine every day or so now. There are times when I really need a slight pick-me-up to make it through the day.
I love how Dory, while playing bubbles, will follow on specific bubble, bark at it in frustration when it stays to high for her to jump and catch it, then believe she has done something really spectacular when it falls to where she can finally get it.
I love how Dory "herded" Bart into Bed Saturday night. He had been in the bedroom, came out to turn off his Mac and talk to me while I ate my late night bowl of cereal, and started to pet Lucy, who almost always waits on me. Dory had been in the bedroom with him, already snuggled in bed. When he didn't come back right away, she found him, and started pushing him to get up, and nudged at his legs until he went to bed. That should come in handy in a few years.

Picture it, Deliveranceville

2011-11-01T14:49:00.000-07:00

Picture it, Deliveranceville 2011. A man still holding on to his late twenties drives along a narrow, not-even-one-lane dirt road in the ruralist of rural counties in Arkansas with his wife in her early thirties, heavy with child, and two retriever dogs, each hanging her head out of a window in the backseat of a four wheel drive Toyota Tundra. As a family, they innocently were just wishing to see and possibly take pictures of the surprisingly (due to the summer drought) beautiful fall foliage in the region.

There is nothing out but trees and wildlife near them for miles until suddenly they run upon several old school buses, rv's, parts of old rusted out vehicles, and vans amongst the wild vegetation. Crude signs demanding that they "KEEP OUT!" and "STAY AWAY!" hung here and there. Several dogs that can hardly be anything more than "just dogs" after generations of mixed breeding appear to greet the truck as it drives past. They are obviously little more than guard / alert dogs for whatever probable nefarious goings on occur in and around those old vehicles be it illegal stills, the growing of pot, or the cooking of methamphetamine if not all of the above.

The younger, more protective, and fiercely loyal of the retriever dogs barked back in retaliation, and her people laughed but told her that she probably didn't want to do that. She was likely to give them a piece of her mind but wouldn't last in a real fight that didn't include stunts from the WWE.

The wife worried that she would somehow come upon the local "gynecologist" possibly named Nub. She worried that this would be the type of person who had to take his wife to the hospital to have their last child, and the hospital was kind enough to name her Female (rhymes with Tamale) for them.

The husband was reminded why he had a Conceal to Carry permit, though knew that if something occurred, his pistol would be no match for whatever the locals might illegally be carrying.

Thankfully, the family soon found their way to the highway again, and though they saw some beautiful scenery, they learned that it might not be entirely too smart to travel unmarked county roads in Newton County, AR. The wife... well, she possibly has watched one too many episodes of Designing Women and Golden Girls.

iTunes Time Machine

2011-10-26T11:21:00.000-07:00

This morning in the shower, when I was having some of my most profound thoughts (Isn't it weird where/when we have moments of clarity?) I started thinking about music. As a teenager, music was a huge part of my life. I had cd's galore and listened to the Weekly Top 40 religiously, even letting it record on my stereo while I went to church. Over time, my listening habits have changed tremendously, and after moving countless times, I've lost track of many of the cd's I once cherished. Bart would get on to me for not taking care of my collection the way that he has, but keeping my discs in alphabetical order on a shelf was never my thing.

Anyway, not only have I lost track of many of those cd's (which most were seriously worn out anyway), I had actually forgotten the music. Maybe I didn't forget it completely, but some of the less mainstream songs have been pushed into the recesses of my mind in order to make room for other things like say, the first 18 lines of the Prologue of The Canterbury Tales in Middle English "WHAN that Aprille with his shoures soote..." and my current address, which has changed countless times since circa 1996.

I think part of the reason I had forgotten these songs and even these bands is because they weren't really mainstream. The mid 90's were a great time in Contemporary Christian Music, and I think that I must have listened to that even more than anything else. It's just that the general public doesn't know of these songs and the bands that played them, many of which have long disbanded.

Somehow this morning while I was in the shower, enjoying a quiet conversation with God while Bart, Lucy, and Dory slept, I was reminded of a group I used to listen to. This was after Amy Grant and before there was such a focus on releasing Praise and Worship albums, which I really have nothing against. It's just that how many different groups need to release the same songs over and over? It's kind of like why I quit attending BCM as often by my senior year of college, because after eleven stanzas of "Holines, Holiness," when no ones going to the front, it gets a little old. The P&W team needs to realize they've gone on a little too long. Some of that pushed some really great music into the back of my mind, because all CCM started to get grouped into that category for me and somewhat for the rest of the public, I think.

The first album I thought of was the Newsboys song "Breakfast" from Take Me To Your Leader. From there, I started thinking about what was really one of my favorite groups at that time, Audio Adrenaline. Probably their best album ever was Bloom. I loved just about every song on that album and had to see if it was available on iTunes. Looking up that album on iTunes recommended probably the last DC Talk album I really listened to much - which in itself was a huge departure from their earlier albums, Jesus Freak, and realized that I could still quote the lines from the song, "Jesus Freak."

I saw a man with a tat on his big fat belly
it wiggled around like marmalade jelly
It took me a while to catch what it said
cause I had to match the rhythm of his belly with my head
JESUS SAVED is what it raved in a typical tatoo green
He stood on a box in the middle of the city and he claimed he had a dream

If I recall correctly, any member of our Youth Group worth their salt could recite those lines and the ones from "Jesus Is Just Alright" from their earlier Free At Last album.

Then I started looking up the smaller, lessor known groups that really had outstanding albums, like Big Tent Revival and their "Two Sets of Joneses" and Between Thieves' self titled album. I may have to order the latter on eBay, because the live version on iTunes doesn't do it justice, especially for "Kindle" and "Slings and Arrows."

So, it looks like I'm going to have to retrofit my iTunes Library a bit, because I don't want to forget these songs again. I really did listen to more than Matchbox Twenty, Boyz II Men, R.E.M, and such. Thank goodness for things like iTunes, eBay, and Amazon, where we can find things we thought were long forgotten.

My "Confinement"

2011-10-25T14:58:00.000-07:00

Whenever you read or watch something set pretty much before WWI, pregnant women got to go through a period known as their "confinement." It was considered unseemly to be seen in public once it was very obvious that you were "great with child." The modern woman in me is understandably against forcing a woman to hide away for months, waiting to birth a child. The old fashioned girl who is growing increasingly tired and awkward with every passing day (I discovered my first stretch marks the other day!) doesn't think it sounds so bad.

No, I don't want to have to be confined to my bed for the rest of my pregnancy. I know from a friend how utterly miserable that can actually be. I wouldn't mind being allowed to just be a hermit for the next 15 and a half weeks though. I'm not a very social person to begin with, and now that the days are getting shorter and cooler, I really just want to stay at home, eat, and watch every mini series I have a copy of from North and South to Downton Abbey to Band of Brothers and to read - to myself and to Daisy.

I would love to be able to take the cares and expectations of everything outside my little cocoon, and ignore them, just being happy in my own little corner of the world for a bit. This is the year 2011 though, and becoming a hermit is frowned upon, thank you Mr. Unabomber. Now women are supposed to exercise when we're this unweildly size. Ugh! Give me 1812 anytime - well, maybe I like running water and electricity.

The Necessary One

2011-10-24T14:30:00.000-07:00

Last night, Bart went outside to play football with the girls, while I finished eating my supper. I couldn't see it, but Lucy kept coming to the door, waiting on me to go outside too. She didn't necessarily want me to do anything other than just be out there. I put on my jack and stepped outside telling Bart, "I'm kinda happy she wants me out here too. So often I feel like they prefer you to me and just want me to feed them, take them potty, and generally look after their well-being."

Bart responded by saying, "I'm the fun one, you're the necessary one, but the love both of us."

Now, the girls do have fun with me, I know they do. I just don't throw the football like Daddy or let them wrestle with me, and since I've been pregnant I've been able to do less like that with them. I am, I guess, the necessary one though. I am definitely the "mommy" of the family.

I'm the one they wake up at night when they have tummy aches or need to potty. I'm the one they wake up at six in the morning to take them potty and feed them breakfast. I'm the one who usually feeds them supper, the one who makes sure there's always kibble in the dog food containers, the one who gives them their parasite preventatives, and the one who orders all of the above from the correct places. I'm the one who usually makes their vet appointments and grooming appointments. I'm the one who's home with them every night they're home, even when Daddy is working out of town.

I'm the one today who ordered their Interceptor from Drs. Foster and Smith and made them appointments to have their bordatella vaccinations updated before they're boarded for Thanksgiving. I'm the one who spent half the afternoon making phone calls regarding both.

Even though it's exasperating, it's OK. I like being the mommy. I'm also the one Lucy runs to when she's scared, though she runs to Bart too. I'm the one she limps to when she gets an acorn stuck between her toes, or (I can't believe we've done this) when the neck tie she ate isn't coming out easily, and she needs someone to pull it out the rest of the way for her.

I'm Mommy, and I'm needed, not that Daddy isn't needed too, it's just different. I can't wait to see how this expands when Daisy comes.

It Won't Fade in the Wash

2011-10-19T15:01:00.000-07:00

My very good friends, Cath and Louise, recently started a Mom Blog together called 7 Million Wonders. I love reading it and commenting on their very interesting, insightful posts. This morning I read what is probably one of the very best posts that I've read on any blog - ever. Of course probably one of the reasons I like it so much is because it deals with something very near and dear to my heart right now, naming your baby. So, I'm going to tell how we've come up with our baby's name, even if I don't share it here.

Bart and I long ago decided on the names we wanted for our children, in that very abstract sense of it happening "some day." Of course opinions can sway a little over the course of time, and some ideas change. Though we were never completely sure about the middle names we wanted for our children, we at least had the first names of both one boy and one girl chosen.

They were good names. For the boy, it was a family name, though shortened to though a somewhat popular version, I personally still don't know any children with that name. The girl's name, which we are still using, is a very beautiful name used in probably the first television show that Bart and I regularly watched together as a couple. There's more to both names than just these things though.

We want our children to have - if possible - strong names. We aren't fond of most of the names of the minute. Personally, I can't count how many Stephanies, Crystals, Jessicas, Joshes, Wesleys, and Adams I went to school with (no offense if you or someone you love has any of these names). Everyone was known by their first name and last initial. I thought that the cartoon Recess epitomized this all too thoroughly with The Ashleys. Or even better, this phenomenon is also shown in the movie, Heathers. However it is perceived, I would rather my child not be lost in a sea of Chloes and Lilys (two of the most popular names of 2010) when she starts school.

I don't want her to have some ostentatious name that she, much less anyone else, cannot pronounce. However, I want her to have a name that is likely to be uniquely her own. I also love traditional names, not what Cath once described to me best as kre8tive (I think), though Bart did find a few of those he sort of liked. I don't like overly cute or names so creative that you have to think about them too much. I also like names that have family meaning and something possibly to do with our heritage.

Both Daisy's real first name and her middle name ended up reflecting the German heritage on Bart's maternal side. His grandfather, who I think is fully second or third generation German American, loves her first name. I managed to get my family in there too by giving her my maternal grandmother's name for her fist name, which we found out is also of German. I loved my Granny very much and have sorely missed her presence in my life for the past eleven years. I think it's only fitting that my daughter should carry her name, especially considering she is due very close to what would have been Granny's 90th birthday.

Some people may not like the names we've picked out for her. That's fine. It was our decision, and we're proud of it. Her name is a good, strong, beautiful name that I think rolls off the tongue rather musically. As Miss Cornelia said of the naming of Anne and Gilbert's firstborn son in Anne's House of Dreams, it is a " name that will wear well andnot fade in the washing,"

Recently...

2011-10-18T11:18:00.000-07:00

Friday I managed to lock one of our new neighbors' cats in our garage all morning. They were having a yard sale, and I was more worried about not backing into anyone that whether or not a cat would sneak into our garage. I didn't really notice that I had to hit the button to close the door twice. Imagine my surprise when I got home at lunch and out from my garage popped the black and white cat. I'm not terribly sorry that it happened, because he hasn't been hanging around our house much since then. Before that, both he and the gray cat would be in the garage every time we had the door open. They're both lonely, because they're left outside all the time. They don't leave when you try to shoo them away either. It takes a small scoop of dog food to get rid of them. Meanwhile their female owner sits by her front window all the time and will occasionally hang out of it, yelling at us or the cat in almost a Gladys Kravitz-type manner.
Saturday we drove up to Rogers with the intent of ordering Daisy a crib at that baby store where we weren't very fond of one of the sales people. However, it's the only place in the area that sells the beds we want. Only we went in there to find out that they no longer carry the particular brand we want. The pushy lady had met us at the door, and already had something that we weren't interested in mind to push on to us. However, we were a little relieved she didn't have what we wanted and just left - never to go back again. Yesterday, Bart ordered the crib from a very nice and helpful store in Springfield, MO.
While searching for a crib, we also visited several furniture stores, looking for a second glider. I would like to take the one we have in the living room and put it in Daisy's room, but that means we need another one for the downstairs. That said, I'm thinking that I would rather just get another recliner, but one that fits my body a little better than the one that is quite honestly Bart's right now. We always have to get furniture that fits his body, with his long torso. Well, I think that I would like this one seat to fit my body. Also, we started getting ideas for a new couch, which is something that will have to be purchased in a year or two as ours is almost ten years old and wearing out quickly. Of course, if we get a recliner, I'm going to have to find a place for the school desk in the living room or sell it. So, if you know anyone who would be interested in a two-seat antique school desk, let me know.
Last night, Bart and I decided to drive to Sonic and each get a hot fudge sundae. When we were headed out the door, Dory got in front of us and gave us"the eyes." She wanted to go to Sonic too. So, we put the girls' collars on them, and we all drove to Sonic. The girls got to impress Bart with not only their easy compliance with getting in the car, but getting in on their correct sides and waiting to be buckled. Is it obvious that the girls and I go to Sonic together a lot when Bart's not home?

Sort of an example of "The Eyes"

By the time we got home, it was starting to storm a bit. So, Lucy was put in her Thudershirt promptly and was mostly fine the rest of the night - especially when she curled up in the recliner with Bart. That's what she does when she wears her Thundershirt, she just wants to curl up with someone and sleep.

Lucy, showing off her Thundershirt.

Crazy Times

2011-10-12T14:56:00.000-07:00

Life is too hectic when you have to make time at night to just sit down, relax, and allow your unborn daughter a chance to bounce around in her cocoon that is your abdomen. I will apologize to one and all if I have said that I would do something for you or with you and have forgotten about it. I think that this should mostly apply to the online world, because it is the most easily and most often neglected facet of my life. Thankfully things do look to calm down soon - until Miss Thang comes home in February.

Apparently there was a holiday a couple of days ago... I don't know. I may have noticed a disruption in the mail service... :)

It is possible to fall in love with your husband a little more each time he shows you a cute baby girl outfit he found on the Internet, tells you he can't wait until she's here so they can go to a certain movie together, or is ready to spend March Madness holding her in the recliner while watching basketball.

I'll be honest and say that I'm thankful the latter half of my pregnancy is not during shorts wearing weather. My legs may not be shaved very often until next Spring because they're getting rather difficult to reach.

I would like to thank the inventors of the Thundershirt for creating such a wonderful invention. It's like Lucy's almost a different dog when she wears hers. She's still Lucy, sweet, smart, lively, but without the neurotic, anxiety ridden behavior that is quite maddening at times.

If we had anything more than milk and Lucky Charms at home, I would not be getting groceries tonight. I really wish I could have grocery delivery like I have dog food delivery.

Speaking of dog food delivery, a couple of weeks ago I actually got a check in the mail from Petflow for referring someone to their services. So, if anyone's interested in a very cost effective way to get dog food, visit this link http://www.petflow.com/invite/uu891118

I think Daisy May is going to be a very big girl when she's born.

I also think that pretty soon people will need to use a forklift to pry me out of certain seats.

I've been think a lot about how important patience is for us. We're such an instant gratification society that we want things when we want them and don't handle it well when we don't get them. However, the best things in life, the ones we appreciate the most, are the ones that we have to wait and work for. It might seem like things will never go out way, but with time and patience things usually work out for the best.

Dislike: Pushy Sales People

2011-10-10T14:20:00.000-07:00

This weekend, Bart and I tried to buy Baby Girl a crib. Yes, I said tried. We decided to visit this baby furniture store in Rogers in between the Oklahoma and Arkansas football games and almost ordered one. Almost though, we didn't and money had nothing to do with why we didn't. An annoying sales person basically chased us away.

When we first went into the store, we were helped by a nice, older lady who was very helpful in that she was around to answer any questions that we had but gave us a wide berth as we looked around for something we liked. We knew that we wanted a nice, convertible crib that could become a full sized bed for Baby Girl if she's an only child, and we don't need the crib. We knew that even though colors like espresso and black are very popular right now, we want a lighter shade of wood (not white), because we already have a chest in Baby Girl's bedroom that she can use. We knew everything except just the style we wanted. The lady seemed to understand this and let us have our space.

Then, another lady came into the store, and it was fairly obvious that she probably owned the place. She gave our sales lady orders to "help" us more and then she decided that she wouldn't leave us alone either. She started telling us what her son and daughter in law bought and what her daughter bought for her baby. She then started talking about how so and so didn't know anything, wanting her mother to knit something in wool for her baby. She realized that even though we weren't dressed to the nines (it was a lazy Saturday for us after all), we were prepared to spend a decent amount to buy something solid and well made. So then, she started pushing all sorts of things on us. She seemed repulsed that I didn't want the crib to be "distressed" to look Shabby Chic. I was repulsed by her vulgar behavior.

I was quickly getting tired of her pushing us, and I could tell Bart was too, so I mentioned that we take some brochures home to think about it. Bart jumped at that idea, and we basically had to pry ourselves away from the woman to leave. We'll probably go back there to order the crib, because we don't want to pay for shipping ourselves, and if there's something wrong we want them to take care of it. However, we won't go back until we know exactly what we want so we can order it and leave.

A lot of people may like to be "sold" things. They walk in somewhere unsure of exactly what they want and allow themselves to be talked into something they maybe didn't really want after all, and usually more than what they actually wanted to buy. Bart and I are not that way. We could seriously do without salespeople. Whether we're buying clothes, TV's, computers, cameras, appliances, cars, and even baby stuff we don't plan on being the couple that makes sure Crazy Ed makes his commission for the month. We want what we want, we try to make sure we're informed before we go to buy, and we don't want to be told this or that or talked into anything else. Most of the time when we're buying something, we can tell the salesperson more about whatever the product is than he/she knows anyway. Frankly, the more you push us, the more likely we are to leave and take our business elsewhere.

Oh, and don't even try to get us to take out a store credit card. You'll be lucky to finish ringing us up without a sermon on why taking out so many credit cards is a bad idea.

Beyond the Box: Steve Jobs, The Last Great American Innovator

2011-10-06T08:36:00.000-07:00

How many of us use an iPod, an iPhone, and/or an iPad several times a day to listen to music, make phone calls, take pictures, play games, watch videos, read books, research something, jot down notes, and almost anything else? How many of us have either always have been or even in recent years become Macs, finding the quality and stability of a Macintosh computer to be a breath of fresh air compared to fighting with the latest version of Windows on an often cheaply made PC? How many of us have enjoyed watching the gangs from Toy Story, Cars, Monsters Inc, and other Pixar films? How many of us spent a part of our childhood vying for computer privileges at school so we could play "Oregon Trail," "Where in the World / USA is Carmen Sandiego," "Lemonade Stand," and countless other games on an Apple II? We can thank Steve Jobs for these things.

I'm not one of the Apple devoted, wearing black (well I am today, but not in mourning really) and flocking to Apple retail stores or the campus in Cupertino in despair. I am a little sad though, because I believe that America has lost a great mind and innovator. I'm afraid he could very well have been one of the last great American inventors of tangible things that actually aide our society. The inventors of today invent computer programs and social networks, not things we can hold with our hands. I'm sometimes afraid that the people of my generation and younger are incapable of conceiving things in their minds that are innovative and lifestyle changing - things we couldn't imagine needing before they came into being, yet we can't imagine not having them once we do. I'm afraid that Steve Jobs was the last of a dying breed. Where are all of the Thomas Edisons, the Benjamin Franklins, the Henry Fords, the Brothers Wright?

They're learning how to excel at taking standardized tests. They're learning to be politically correct to the point they have no idea whatsoever how to stand up for themselves. They're learning revisionist History. They're learning how to work in groups, leaning on one or two harder working students and getting credit for the work but learning nothing meaningful. They're learning that if you come up with a good idea and profit from it, that you're labeled as greedy and stepping on the backs of the "little people." They're learning that it doesn't matter how hard they may work to earn money, that the government sees fit to take as much of that money as they want and redistribute it to others who may very well not want to work at all - it doesn't matter whether or not you already give a good amount of it to charities you see fit and at your own accord. They learn that it isn't really worth working hard at all if the government is just going to take what you earn away and dole it out to whom they see fit. Why, you're better off not working or dreaming at all and just letting the government feed you, clothe you, and tell you how you should live your life. They're learning that individualism and ingenuity are overrated, that it's easier to just be a drone controlled by Big Brother.

Today's young people aren't taught to dream, not really. They're not taught to think for themselves, because if their thoughts differ from what media and the masses deem to be "correct," they are ostracized and called everything from "racist" to "small minded" when in truth they're being anything but.

With every passing year, we put our young people in smaller and smaller boxes. Their lives are so planned out and controlled with activities that they don't get the chance to just be children, to sit and dream. They don't have to use their imaginations, because they're told exactly what and how to think. The minds that might once again reinvent the wheel have been too scheduled, too controlled, and yes too coddled to come up with that next thing that even though we don't know what it is now, we wouldn't be able to do without it in the future.

RIP Steve Jobs. I'll think of you as I listen to my five-year-old 2nd Generation iPod Nano in my car today. I'll think of you when I stream TV shows onto my Apple TV tonight. I'll think of you when I read from my iPad, write and edit photos and videos from my Macbook, or receive a picture in email that Bart sent me from his iPhone. Thank goodness you broke free from the box.

Getting Away For A Day

2011-10-03T10:55:00.000-07:00

Although Bart and I both love watching college football with Lucy and Dory most Saturdays, we were more than ready to do something other than that this past weekend. There will always be football on Saturdays in the fall. Every week could possibly have the game that we're going to wish that we watched. There will always be unfinished housework to do. Bart's grandparents aren't always going to be with us though, so we took advantage of the fine weather we've been having and escaped the noise, the traffic, and the irresponsible driving of most of the tourists in town for BB&BBQ and met Bart's parents and his grandparents at Lake Dardanelle in Russellville for a day of fishing, visiting, and just getting away from things.

Besides the weather being absolutely perfect, it also seemed to be the perfect day schedule-wise for us. The next couple of weeks look to be fairly hellish for Bart. He has so much on his plate, that he even had to cancel a trip to Atlanta, where he had reserved a spot in some class. He's still fighting off a sinus infection, because he hasn't had the opportunity to rest much. Also, at some point over the years, he's forgotten how to relax.

I'll be the first to admit that neither of us is particularly good at just relaxing anymore, though I've learned to make myself do it because it doesn't really matter if all the clothes get folded or if all the furniture gets dusted if I'm too exhausted to enjoy life at all. Also, I can't overtax myself now for obvious reasons.

Bart hates just sitting still. He always needs to be doing something. I appreciate that to an extent. I don't mind when he's doing things he enjoys either. However, sometimes you really do need to just let your body recover. You need to spend a day vegging out in front of the television, falling asleep when you need it. At least you need to be able to do that if you have had very little down time at all. Other days you need to just get away from everything, because that in itself is another way to relax and just enjoy yourself.

I was very proud of Bart for putting his iPhone up when we got to the lake and rarely picking it up, except to check on the score of the Arkansas football game. It's hard to remember, but not that long ago we couldn't take our phones everywhere with us, and the world didn't end if we missed a phone call. I still personally believe this and know that if there's ever a real emergency someone can also call Bart's phone. I do try to always answer when he calls, though all other calls are usually screened - if I bother to even keep my phone where I can hear it.

That's one of the many reasons I have yet felt the urge to jump into the world of smartphones. Yes, I would like a phone that can take good pictures and video that I can post on Facebook and blogs a lot quicker than I can process RAW images from my camera. Yes, I would like to be able to compare prices of things while shopping. No, I don't want to always be available to the world, because I'm not. I never will be, because my immediate family is more important than my mother's constant phone calls, or anyone else.

Back to Saturday.... I didn't really fish. I just sat in a nice shade with Bart's Mom and Grandmother visiting, and taking pictures. Once, Bart's dad had me hold on to his cane pole, and I pulled out a small something. Most of the fish were small somethings. In the end, the guys caught quite a few different fish, but we ended up giving them all away. There wasn't a good place to clean them, and they would have gone bad by the time any of us got home and wanted to mess with cleaning them. Also, I can't eat a lot of fish, especially catfish, now because of the mercury content.

It was a good day though, a very good day. I truly enjoy Bart grandparents, and I hope that Daisy gets to know them. I worry though, because Bart's grandmother couldn't stay warm, and his grandfather started to shuffle his feet, and his speech slurred when he got tired. They like to be active people, and time is slowly encroaching upon them.

I want Daisy to know days like Saturday. I want her to be the little girl so interested in fishing, like this random girl who came over to where the guys were fishing with her grandparents who were visiting from Florida. She was between ten and twelve years old and very interested in what they were doing. Turns out her father won't take her fishing, though she would really like to go. So, the guys were nice and let her help some. I hope Daisy shows some interest in fishing just because I know of three soft guys who'll be more than glad to take her fishing.

Did we miss watching some interesting football games? Yes. Did we miss any important phone calls? No. Did we get to do something out of the ordinary? Yes. Was it worth it? Undoubtedly.


This isn't bait, Bart's dad caught this.

Bart's bass was 3 inches too small to keep.

The biggest fish of the day was a catfish Bart's Granddaddy caught.

The squirrel I chased.

Chewing Gum and Other Things I've Learned While Pregnant

2011-09-29T08:56:00.000-07:00

When I was in high school, I chewed gum all the time, I mean almost constantly, even times when I wasn't supposed to. I was a whiz at tucking the gum in my cheek during band and keeping a piece of gum despite warnings that the sugar would destroy my saxophone. I chewed gum in church and became an expert at using offertory envelopes to stash the minty wad in between the pages of my Youth Study Bible whenever I needed to like during our quarterly observance of The Lord's Supper. Grape juice, dry wafers, and Wrigley's Winterfresh gum never meshed well.

That said, at some point, probably after I started college, I moved from chewing gum to breath mints for some reason - probably greatly stemming from the fact that after almost two decades of chewing, my jaw was tired. For whatever the reasons were, I have since been an avid fan of the breath mint, my favorites being Altoids Wintergreen and Icebreakers Frost Wintercool. Then I got pregnant...

.....Hello heartburn! Oh my gosh! I feel like my upper digestive tract is almost constantly on fire! I have started taking a Zantac 75 twice a day, but often that's not quite enough. I've read that taking TUMS with Zantac kind of cancels each other out, and A.) I don't need anymore calcium and B.) I loathe chewing and swallowing chalky things. So, I've been scouring the Internet for other remedies, one of which is chewing gum.

I decided to give gum chewing a try and hustled downstairs to our vending machines to buy a package and give it a try. First of all, there's no telling how old this gum is. Secondly.... it works (!) - sort of. My reflux pain has been greatly reduced from what it was. I imagine I'll be buying myself an adequate supply of gum tonight after work - preferably something sugarless even though I'll have to make sure the girls don't get into it since the sugar substitute Xylitol can kill them.

Here's a list of a few of the other things I've learned:

When nature calls, for Heaven's sake, answer. It doesn't matter if you're running late to somewhere, answer! If you don't it may not call again for a very long time, and when it does, it's not going to be pleasant at all.
Go ahead, give up, and buy the elastic waist pants. You'll actually be happier, because you'll be more comfortable.
Despite the heartburn possibilities, eat before bed. I personally have a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk every night around 10. I don't wake up in the middle of the night hungry, and I'm less likely to feel awful in the morning.
Don't be a hero. When you're tired, rest.Naps are awesome!
Sleep is great, but don't sleep too late in the mornings. I've learned the hard way that getting off of my eating schedule can make me deathly ill.

I'll apologize now...

2011-09-27T13:52:00.000-07:00

If you see me making crabby status updates to Facebook or just crabby comments here and there on the Interwebs the next few days, I'm sorry. I'm just warning everyone ahead of time, because it's time once again in NWA for Bikes, Blues, and BBQ.

It's a weekend that most of us locals dread and loathe, because it's nearly impossible to navigate through Fayetteville with the increased traffic. For those of us who work downtown, it's just a nightmare. To us it's something to bring in tourist money, most of the people who live in the region try to avoid it -unless they like bikes, blues, or bbq and huge crowds. It's like eating at AQ Chickenhouse. Though out-of-towners think it's great, townies know better.

So, have patience with me. I'm probably going to have a headache from all of the rumbling motors for a while.

Problems With Pink & Sweet Things

2011-09-26T10:30:00.000-07:00

Friday was our 20 week appointment and ultrasound, and actually somewhat to my surprise, we're having a girl! Note that's surprise, not disappointment. There's a big difference there. We're very happy to be having a little girl - just as happy as if she was a boy. In all honestly, seeing that she was healthy and whole was more important to us than gender. I, in fact, am a little relieved because I know nothing about little boys. I am willing to learn, but I am thankful that as of with this child I don't have to concern myself with teaching her to urinate while standing.

So, now we know the gender and had decided on a name. I don't think that I'm going to post her full name here, on a public blog, so from now on we'll just refer to her here as Daisy. Daisy is quite honestly a name I wouldn't even bestow upon a pet, but some things should just be left private. I imagine whenever my mother learns her full name, she'll have a fit. However, it is not up to her to decide what my baby's name will be, thank goodness.

Our greatest dilemma right now is deciding how to decorate her room. We want it to look nice in there, but honestly, her room is not going to get an entire makeover with new wall colors and such anyway. Neither of us see the point in painting a room to our desires, when she'll most likely have an opinion in a year or two about what she likes, and that opinion will change month to month, year to year. We will get her a nice bedding set and decorations for her room. We'll make it look perfectly wonderful, yet keep the walls a color that shouldn't hamper our selling the house in a few years, like we seriously wish to do.

Of course, finding a bedding set that we like is going to be a problem. Our society seriously believes that a little girl's room must be covered in pink. I hate pink. HATE it! Part of the reason I hate pink so much is because of the fact that the color was forced upon me so much during my own childhood. Bart isn't very fond of the color either. Once Daisy May is old enough to decide for herself, if she likes pink, that will be an entirely different issue. We're not going to force the color upon her just because she's a girl though. So, now we're on a quest to find room decor that we like that isn't entirely smattered with that wretched color.

On to the sweet things....

I've kind of noticed that whenever Lucy sits next to me, I really feel Daisy up against Lucy. Saturday, Lucy sat next to me, and my mother-in-law could visibly see little Miss Daisy curled up against her Lucy. It wasn't hard to notice, because I kept trying to move to get more comfortable because of the mass of baby poking out of my left side, trying to get closer to her Lucy-dog.

The feelings seem to be mutual though. Sunday afternoon, Lucy crawled up next to me in a position she never does, with her head against my stomach. It was very obvious that she was wanting to be near her baby. Daisy once again curled up next to her Lucy as well. I have a feeling that we're going to have quite a bonded pair. I just hope Lucy doesn't mind going everywhere with Daisy to get her to sleep....

The Things That Excite Me

2011-09-20T10:27:00.000-07:00

I'm a simple person; not in the sense that I'm simple-minded by any means (I hope), but in the sense that I don't think that I'm a very complicated person. I find joy in the simple things in life and find more complex things often well... complicated. Some people crave the complex. They're not happy unless everything is chaotic and even dramatic. I could care less about chaos or drama. I care to only find those things in the fictional settings of books, television shows, and movies. Often I find story lines too complicated and think that they would be better off in the long run without the complications. I like things so simple in fact, that it's the simple things that excite me, like the onset of Autumn. I have many, many reasons for loving the Autumn.

The first reason I love Autumn is obviously the weather. I'm no fan of Summer at its hottest. I'm just not. I don't care for it to be so hot that even our air conditioner hardly makes a dent in the temperature of our house when it's running non-stop. Most of this past Summer has been that way. It was far too hot to be outside to do anything, especially while pregnant. It wasn't just uncomfortable, it was downright dangerous. Now that the temperatures are at a more enjoyable, livable level, I just need some time with Bart to enjoy it (ha ha), even though I don't think we're going to have pretty leaves this year after the horrible drought over the summer.

The second reason I love Autumn is because come Labor Day Weekend, college football finally kicks off for the new season. I've never made any bones about it, I love college football. I love the excitement over watching a great game, I love the bands playing fight songs, I love the feel of college football. I don't experience the same feel for pro football. In fact, usually by Sunday I'm usually so footballed out that I can catch up on my (much needed) napping while Bart watches whatever games are playing (if he's home). I will let the girls wake me up early enough on a Saturday so that we can start the day watching Game Day on ESPN, and from there we watch games throughout the day, focusing always on my Oklahoma Sooners and the Arkansas Razorbacks. We do plan to spend a few Saturdays doing something other than watching football, but that's how the bulk of them will be spent.

The third reason I love Autumn is the Fall TV season. It seems that Summer has become a purgatory of horrible, cheap reality and game shows. Nothing is worth watching Last night marked the beginning of the new season though, and in my opinion it was worth the wait. The first two episodes of "How I Met Your Mother" were stupendous.

It seems that since they killed off Marshall's dad last winter, the writing is getting good again. Now that everyone knows that the show has at least two more years to complete the story, we're seeing things slowly wind down I think. We know that Barney is going to marry someone, probably either Robin or Nora (please, please be Robin). Marshall and Lily are expecting their first baby. Mostly, last night we saw something of the old Ted, Ted from Season 1 and 2, back. He's looking for magical love again, and SPOILER ALERT!!! at the end of the second episode last night we saw what has to be Ted's best girlfriend save Robin, Victoria. Most veiewers loved Victoria, she just wasn't Robin when the world was pulling for Ted and Robin. Now that's five years in the past, and who knows what will happen next? Oh, and we're going to eventually meet The Slutty Pumpkin. This is one case where I love complicated clues and continuity.

This just makes me more excited to see the premieres of "Modern Family," "The Big Bang Theory," and "Desperate Housewives." Other than that, I can take or leave most of what is on television.

Oh, and as Bart reminds me (and it's not like I can really forget) there's a baby coming in February. Thank goodness I have a DVR, so I won't miss February Sweeps. :)

ER Possibilities

2011-09-16T09:09:00.000-07:00

To think, we started out this week as relaxed as Lucy and Dory look in the picture, with Dory using Lucy as a footstool. OK, maybe I wasn't that relaxed because of pregnancy-related bathroom issues, but other than that I was OK. It's Friday morning now, and two different nights this week we've contemplated going to two different emergency rooms.

Wednesday I was pretty sure that I would be taking Bart something to eat for dinner to his office. He managed to get home at a decent enough time though that I actually had a reason to cook dinner. While I grilled tilapia and fixed other things, he went outside with the girls to play football with them. I stepped outside with them for a bit while Bart and Dory had decided to wrestle together some on the ground. After thoroughly getting tired, they all came back inside the house, and Bart sat down in the recliner to relax a bit.

I went back to preparing supper and later turned around to see Bart holding his head. He said that he didn't feel very well and was starting itch a lot. We both just assumed he was itching because he had gotten a haircut earlier that day, and always itches after that. A little bit later he noticed a hive that had popped up on his skin. Then another one. I keep a bottle of Benadryl in the kitchen next to the peanut butter, because every once in a while the girls' eyes will get all red and irritated looking or Dory's nose will run from allergies. So I gave him a couple of pills to take. He was still itching and very uncomfortable, so he went to take a quick shower.

I was really starting to worry about him, so I started going to his bathroom habitually to check on him. When he came out of the shower, his entire body was covered in hives! It was horrible!

I asked him if he wanted me to take him to the ER. He told me that he wasn't sure. I told him that I needed to eat, and he told me to go ahead. I ate my dinner, and he just went back to his recliner after getting dressed. He said he felt like he had a knot in his stomach. I was prepared to take him to the ER right then and there, but Bart wanted to wait.

Slowly, as the Benadryl started to make him sleepy, the hives began to gown down and eventually disappear. We don't know what caused him to break out like that. It could have been a number of things from the grass, the things he ate that day, stress and exhaustion from work, or a combination of those things. I stayed home from work yesterday, and though he did some work and got countless phone calls from work, he also rested and seems to slowly be getting back to normal.

Last night, after Bart and I had a wonderful meal at my favorite restaurant thanks to half-off coupons I received at work, we took the girls out back to play with them. Bart let Dory choose what she wanted to play, and she picked volleball. She was very hyper and ready to play. Bart hit the ball one time, and Dory was determined to hit it before Lucy could. She jumped super high, got the ball, then unfortunately didn't land on her back feet.

She sort of did a butt tuck and her feet slid out from beneath her, cause her to land on her back and her right hip. She slowly started to get up, and that back right leg just stuck out in a very unnatural way. Our first thought was that she broke her leg (thank goodness for Pet Plan Health Insurance). We ran to her, and I made Bart feel of her leg to see if it felt broken to him. From what he could tell, it didn't, and though she limped, she got up and started to walk around on it, putting a little weight back on it.

They both still wanted to play, but we made them go inside and kept Lucy from initiating any wrestling between the two of them. She's putting more and more weight on it, so I'm guessing she just tweaked it a bit when she fell. She was fine this morning and ran up the stairs ahead of Bart when they got out of bed.

Lucy and I seriously hope that neither she nor I (nor the baby) have any scares like this the rest of what is left of this week.

Post #2: A Little Lighter

2011-09-14T14:55:00.000-07:00

Heaven help me, I have "A Whole New World" from Aladdin stuck in my head right now. It's not because I have some sort of strange adult fascination with Disney cartoons either. I don't. It has probably been a good ten years or so since I've watched that particular cartoon all the way through. I will admit to watching it far too many times in high school, because apparently watching and rewatching certain movies over and over again and then repeating the dialogue word for word at school was the thing to do, back in my days of purple and gold. I think it's stuck in my head, because I've been reading a friend's posts about planning her daughter's princess party.

I had to get on to a coworker today for trying to get into my pants. That's what I said, but don't take it the way it sounds. I ordered several pair of maternity jeans from Old Navy over the weekend, and they were delivered to me today at work. Said coworker was being his nosy self and wanted to know what was in the package, thinking (supposedly) it was something promotional.

I'm not particularly looking forward to any new television show this fall season. That's sad, because I love new, good tv shows. I'm sad that ABC decided to draw the curtain on my beloved Walker Clan after only five seasons of Brothers and Sisters. I guess I'll have to get my crazy family drama fix only on Tuesday nights now on Parenthood. Isn't it sad that almost every hour-long program on television (and there aren't that many these days) is either some sort of cop, lawyer, coroner, or medical show? The only light in that tunnel is possibly ~~Good Christian Bitches~~ ~~Good Christian Belles~~ GCB's. Sadly, so many name changes and a delayed start don't bode well for the lone new show I'm really interested in. I

I have a sinking suspicion that I will be taking Bart his dinner tonight and seeing him who-knows-when. It seems every fall and spring his workload just piles up and piles up. It's good job security, but it sure sucks for home-life. Nope, not a suspicion, I have an order for a burger from Felner Bros. I think I'm picking up some McAllister's for myself - not in a burger mood. Strike that again. He's making great progress on one thing and is bringing the other home. I guess I'll be cooking tonight after all.

More Truths

2011-09-14T10:13:00.000-07:00

I've kind of stopped watching the Republican debates for a while. No, I'm still not voting to re-elect Obama next November, but I've realized that most of these people will no longer even be on the ballot by the time Arkansas' primary hits in May. I imagine I'll have plenty of time to research who to vote for in between Super Tuesday and May. Besides, none of the current candidates really wow me yet- none of them.
I think I'll probably be wearing maternity jeans all the time now. All of the slacks that I've found except for the most outrageously expensive pairs are made of mostly just cotton. That means they'll shrink, fade and look awful after one wash. Or, worse yest they just come in sizes of Small, Medium, and Large. Since when are any of us just one of those three sizes in pants? Personally in the waist, I would be a Small, but I have long legs. That means any size Small pants on me would probably come up to my knees. Also, I have many reasons not to just wear dresses - the biggest of all is that it is too cold in the office to not cover my legs.
I'm going to shock several people and reiterate that I do not want a baby shower. What?!!! I don't. More importantly Bart doesn't want one. People may disagree and think that I have to have one, but I don't. Bart is very anti-wedding and baby shower before the actual wedding and birth for fairly good reasons. I too have grown to not care for them too much. It's just not my thing, and I don't even have time to attend showers these days much less have one thrown for me. I'm not into any sort of pretty, pretty princess thing anymore or games. I'm not the type of person who wants to see and be seen. I would much rather spend the little free time I have these days with Bart, who has even less free time, because soon our world is going to change forever. I have nothing against people wanting to give gifts - if they want to, or even visiting us after the baby is born. I just don't feel the need for a party.
I'm more than ready to spend some time at our favorite little North Central Arkansas getaway in a month and a half. Due mostly to the weather this summer, Bart's work schedule, and my pregnancy, we have spent far more time cooped up in the house with nothing to do than we cared for.
This year - just this year - we're skipping the whole handing out candy on Halloween thing. The neighbor kids we used to make sure to buy candy for moved to Florida over the summer, and with Lucy and Dory who go crazy and get nervous, it's just easier to leave the porch light turned off. We don't ever have much of a turnout, and then we're stuck with a few pounds of candy that will eventually go bad and have to be thrown away.
I entered the story of how we named Dory into a contest at Orvis yesterday, in order to win her a personalized bed. Now, someone in the who runs a regional blog wants me to share Dory's story with her. Dory could become moderately famous.

I'm Not One Of Those Moms-To-Be

2011-09-13T11:12:00.000-07:00

I've always thought that this was the case, but now that I'm 18 weeks into my pregnancy, I can honestly say that I think that women who say they never felt better than when they were pregnant have something horribly wrong with them in their heads. This is not the best I've ever felt in my life. It's far from it. I'm just thankful that I think I was in my best shape ever just prior to getting pregnant.

Just before I got pregnant, I was eating great and exercising a great deal. I had started biking one to two miles per day with each dog individually, meaning I biked two to four miles a day. I'm glad I was getting in that type of shape, because I spent my first trimester avoiding what turned out to be one of the hottest summers we've ever had on record. It never cooled down enough at night or in the mornings to walk a bit. In fact it was often more miserable at night, because even the breeze would decide to quit for the day.

So, for the first three months, I endured morning sickness. I hated it and loved it at the same time, because I didn't have morning sickness during a previous pregnancy that ended in the eighth week. To me, that was a sign of a healthy pregnancy. Yet, as time progressed the novelty of morning sickness (as well as other upset stomach symptoms) and almost constant nausea grew thin.

Now that I'm firmly in my second trimester, I'm dealing with in increased headaches, dizziness, constipation, the uncomfortable end result of constipation which sometimes leads to other ailments, aches and pains, continued fatigue, and even nosebleeds. Yes, I'm getting nosebleeds (mostly when I'm at work) when my sinuses are on overdrive. All of this is normal though, so it doesn't scare me, it just isn't fun - at all. I'm just waiting on the inevitable hemorrhoids to start.

I do believe the end result will be worth it. Don't get me wrong in my intent in posting this. I just want it on the record that pregnancy hasn't been kind to me, and in a year when I'm playing with my baby I don't want to look back with rose-tinted glasses at this time and want to just jump into the experience again until / unless we're more than ready.

In All Seriousness: The Chain of Codependency

2011-09-08T14:41:00.000-07:00

Lately topics have been rather lighthearted, poking fun at random things that cross my mind. However right now what's on my mind is that tonight I will probably have my semi-weekly uncomfortable phone conversation with my mother. Last week's phone call did not go well at all, and now I'm spending precious time dreading and mentally preparing myself for this one. Of course the question that is always running in my head (and from Bart's mouth) is, "Why bother at all?"

Knowing and rather assuming that we had a three-day weekend this past weekend, she also assumed that it would be more than a perfect time for her to come visit us. (Keep in mind that the only time I have seen her this year is when she showed up unannounced in March demanding to know why I hadn't talked to her in three months. She wasn't admitted in the house because despite her protests, we have had to set up boundaries, and frankly we haven't wanted her company, though I did have a long, frank discussion with her in our front yard.)When she asked if she could come visit, I told her that it was not a good time for her to visit for several reasons (some stated to her, some not). It really wasn't.

I know that in her little world, I go home from work every night and probably just sit on the couch watching television. I wish that would be the case from time to time. Most nights I am busy doing chores around the house until close to 9pm or later, only occasionally sitting down to rest. Then it's time to try and calm down and prepare for bed. I don't have time to sit down and chat with someone I enjoy talking to, much less time to talk to someone who causes me to be emotionally exhausted and frustrated after each conversation. She called me multiple times a day last week, trying to get me to pick up. I was always busy with something else; something more important than her desire to be entertained and needed. Not only does she psycho call me, not waiting to see if I'll call her when I have a chance, I'm afraid she has started doing the same to my poor mother-in-law in order to gain information on us. (I tell her as little about my life as possible, because she takes any information we give her, construes it to her warped mind and desires, and then uses it as ammunition for future guilt trips and self-recrimination. I waited to tell her of my pregnancy until I felt I had to because I wanted to make it public.)

So, weekends are for three things in our house: 1.) Time for just Bart and me (and Lucy and Dory). Most weeks Bart has to spend some time out of town or just working late. In fact this week, he is going to be in Texas until Saturday night, so we will only get Sunday together. 2.)Rest. Let's face it, I'm pregnant and trying to keep house and husband, raise two dogs, and still work 40 hours a week. Bart is run beyond ragged. Right now, if we get a minute to sit down, we both have a tendency to fall asleep. 3.) Playing Catch-Up. All of the errands we are unable to complete during the work week in and around the house have to be attempted to be completed on the weekends. Beyond that, we try to attend church. That's it. We don't have time to visit with anyone right now, and most everyone else who know us and care about us at least try to understand this.

Not my mother, nope not her. I just don't want to spend time with her. I don't want to be around her. I don't want her in my life. These are all her responses to my telling her that we really weren't up to visitors and sadly wouldn't be for some time in the foreseeable future.

Yes, unfortunately there is some truth in what she said. However, I am well aware of her attempts to use guilt in order to get me to cave in. She uses guilt trips like a double-barreled shot gun, and after over 30 years, I don't let them get to me anymore. That, among many, many other reasons is why I don't want to spend time with her anymore. It's not a healthy relationship. I refuse to put myself in such a situation in this condition, and I refuse to let any of that rub off on how I raise my child. The chain of codependency is breaking with me.

So, today I started doing some research on codependency in parents. I believe that my mother is a text-book case. In all honesty my mother, my sister, that man my sister has remarried, sadly probably my nieces, and once upon a time I all were a text-book dysfunctional, codependent family. Anyway, I found some good reading material that has made me feel better about standing my ground and staying strong. No one else involved is ever going to change, so I have to change my circumstances.

"Codependency"
"Codependency" Wikipedia
"Coping with Codependent Parents"
"Roles In Dysfunctional Families"
"Codependency: :Loss of Self In Others"

From my own analysis, I can see where my mother, while not raised in a home of substance abuse, was raised in a very rigid household, and having feelings of low self-worth became codependent. This behavior has only grown by leaps and bounds in the twenty-one years since my father died. My sister is mostly what "Roles In Dysfunctional Families" calls the "Placater" - "Mascot" - "Caretaker," however at times the "Acting out child" - "Scapegoat" appears. When I was younger, I was most undoubtedly a mixture of th"Responsible Child" - "Family Hero" and the "Adjuster" - "Lost Child."

It's just over the past couple of years that I have figured out that these things aren't healthy, and I'm only responsible for the happiness and well-being of myself, my husband, and my own family. The immediate family I had growing up is not more important or even AS important as my current one. Their inability to accept this is what has caused me the greatest amount of stress in my life, and why I have chosen to distance myself completely from some and almost completely from my mother. As stated before, the chain is being broken with me, no matter how difficult it may be.

10 Truths

2011-09-07T13:58:00.000-07:00

Truth - "Sclemeel, schlemazel, hasenfeffer incorporated." I have this unbelievable urge to listen to the theme song from Laverne and Shirley. I don't necessarily want to watch an episode of L & S, just listen to the theme song. I kind of miss peppy theme songs from back in the day when shows were filmed in front of a live studio audience.

Truth - I do not want OU to be a PAC-10 school. I would rather they join the SEC, not just because I live in SEC-land either. I don't like the PAC-10/12 culture at all and don't think that OU will fit there.

Truth - I don't know how my Granny gave birth to eight children. Frankly one pregnancy is kicking my behind. I seriously don't know if between one thing and another if there will ever be a second Little G. Of course, my generation is far softer than The Greatest Generation.

Truth - I miss riding my bike with the dogs, especially in this weather. I will totally be getting one of these or these by next fall.

Truth - Hopefully in 16 days we'll be finding out if the Little G is a boy or a girl. I'm getting impatient. Actually, I'm getting impatient for the next few months to get by.

Truth - Fall makes me want to be creative. I only wish that I felt more creative these days. Instead I feel tired or unable to be much of anything.

Truth - I could care less about golf or circuses. These are thoughts that cross my mind frequently at work these days.

Truth - I love it when Lucy or Dory sniff my belly, lick it, and rest the heads on it. They won't love it when they eventually get kicked.

Truth - I started having nose bleeds last week. They stopped during the long weekend. Two days back at work, and they start up again. Coincidence? I don't think so.

Truth - I really, really love these three crazies. They make my life worthwhile. Little G will just add to this mix.

"Mean"and Other Things

2011-08-24T10:10:00.000-07:00

This weekend I wasn't feeling very well and was resting in the recliner while Bart watched Country Music Videos. Obviously I wasn't feeling well, or I would have been more likely to raise cane about that, because though I like some country music, as a whole I'm not a fan. I'm just not. It's not my thing. I try to be tolerant because Bart absolutely loves it. Anyway, while I was in the same room while the videos were airing, Taylor Swift's latest song, "Mean," came on air.

I'm sure I've mentioned it here before, but I am really not a fan of Taylor Swift's music. Well, not her songs, per se, but her singing. I think she has written several songs that seem very good. It's just that the girl CANNOT hold a tune to save her life. Anytime she performs live, it's like watching the talent portion at Heavener's old JR Miss pageants. The girl tries, but just can't carry a tune. Several of her studio albums are just as bad.

Last night, Bart and I were in Walmart getting our weekly groceries, and T.S.'s song, "Love Story," came over the air. It was the studio version, and though she's off key during most of the song, there's one point where her voice cracked like Peter Brady's. It sounded horrible, and I can't begin to understand how she's as popular as she is. Well I can sort of, she has the one thing that's more valuable than talent in show business, good marketing. I will give her one nod though, she doesn't fake it out with Autotune. She has no problem whatsoever singing just a tad bit better than Roseanne Barr did when screeching out the national anthem at a football game twenty some-odd years ago.

So, back to "Mean." Once again Miss Swift has decided to go on the offensive against someone who has supposedly done her wrong by writing a song about it. "Mean" as a video is supposed to tackle bullies in a way, but if you listen to the lyrics, you can tell that it's just a retort to all of the critics and anyone else who has said that she can't sing - which she can't. (Hello, the sky is blue, the Pope is Catholic, and Susan Lucci will always be Erica Kane, too!)

This is a pattern for Miss Swift. She wrote a song about a bad breakup that went public once, and now she's doing this. While the first instance was a little funny, now to me (at least) it seems like whenever someone does something she doesn't like, she's going to write a song calling you out on it. Unlike the rest of us who take our lumps, learn from them and grow, it appears she would rather write a song making anyone Anti-Taylor look ridiculous and milk it for money. It's like saying that someone who disagrees with President Obama's policies is a racist. I do disagree with his policies, I could care less about the color of his skin.

She reminds me of how people my age and younger (especially younger) are incapable of taking criticism or rejection. Rather than listen to it, grow a thicker skin, and learn from it, it's easier just to throw it back at the person making the comment. This is why I'm totally against kids' sports where there's no score keeping and such, because kids need to learn to win and lose or as adults they won't be able to function well.

Anyway, that whole thing just bothered me, so I felt like posting about it. In other things, the baby is developing his or her hearing this week. So, trying to be a good mother I'm forgoing my usual political or sports talk radio that I listen to in the car in order to let the baby hear music. I'm supposed to sing some to the baby now, but unlike Miss Swift, I know that I cannot carry a tune and the only time I sing is when music is playing. I have got to try and influence the baby to like things other than what his or her daddy likes to listen to, because though I love Bart dearly, his taste in most music is very questionable.

I also want this baby to know good music when he or she hears it, as well as bad. I don't want him or her to be influenced by what is popular at a point in time, because we know that everything that 's popular isn't always good - like Taylor Swift's voice.

Really? After 13 Years?

2011-08-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

Last week, a friend of mine added me to yet another Facebook Group. At first consideration, it appeared to be a group that I had no problem being a part of. It was, after all, a group where people from my High School graduating class can catch up and let everyone know how their life is going. I had no problem with that. Then, as the days progressed, I realized that I no longer really wanted to be associated with this group after all.

You see it was started by someone who obviously wasn't very happy during high school. Instead of catching up, the person who started the group asked, "Does anyone wish they could go back in time and change how they acted in high school or who they were?" (I'll refrain from complaining the terrible spelling, grammar, and sentence structure I found there, except to say that it was horribly atrocious. It was very obvious that most of the posters took the English teacher who was more concerned about what went on during the weekend than actually teaching anything.) This thread turned into, basically an "I wish people hadn't been so mean to me" thread.

Now first of all, I don't think that I was ever mean to this person. I think I tried to be nice to just about everyone - though I am known for my sarcastic tongue and inability to put up with fools. That said, high school ended over thirteen years ago. We've been out of the Heavener Public Schools system for as long as we were in it - unless you happened to be held back. It's high time to move on, isn't it? I hate that some people were unhappy back then, but there's really no point in continuing to dwell upon it now.

Another thread or other threads there that bothered me were ones where (if you can decipher the shotty English) people were bragging about how wasted they were at certain points - during high school! These people are friggin' parents of kids who aren't much younger than we were then, and they're bragging about vomiting in trash cans and such over a decade ago. Really, REALLY??? I seriously hope that these people's lives aren't so depressing today that they have to dwell on and relive moments I can be proud to say I have never in my life, especially in high school, experienced.

I didn't want to seem like a snob, so I didn't automatically leave this group. However, as more time progressed, I noticed that several of the people I graduated with and actually keep up with have yet to leave a comment there (as had I). Then I messaged a certain person who completely agreed with me that this wasn't a group we wanted to be associated with. Many of us have worked very hard in order to build good lives for ourselves in the thirteen years since we tossed our mortarboards at Harvey Stadium. We have professional friends and acquaintances on Facebook. Our lives have moved beyond that very small town and that very small class we graduated with.

Today I left the group, because though I enjoyed my four years in high school, I don't want to relive them, and I have no desire to dwell upon whether someone treated me poorly, or if I was not as nice to someone as I should have been. We were all young, insecure, and miserable in one way or another. We were teenagers. We're all adults in our thirties now. I cannot be ashamed that I live a happy life with a good husband, and that God has blessed us greatly. I would rather remember good memories from my early years, growing up in Heavener instead of being reminded of exactly why I don't ever want to live there again.

Also, for Heaven's sake, someone please glance at a Freshman English book! I feel like I went to school with Pappy and Mammy Yockum.

Animated Admissions

2011-08-19T11:16:00.000-07:00

I have to admit something. I stayed awake a little later than I wanted to last night, because I was watching episodes of the new Cartoon Network version of Thundercats. I loved that cartoon as a kid and even a younger adult. I found the new version interesting and honestly more believable than the original, which over the test of time seems just about as implausible as most of the cartoons of the 80s that I loved.

It has always bothered me how the original's characters started out naked but with Barbie bodies. I mean they even have hinges (or something like that) in the groin area for leg movement. It's just weird, especially because they're naked though Panthro and Cheetara have belts, and they all feel the need to wear boots. Boots are nice and all, but they don't protect anyone's neither regions - not that they appear to actually have complete neithers anyway.

What I've seen so far, it almost seems like the new Thundercats are the descendants of the old ones, even though they have the same names as the old characters and many of their characteristics. If that's true, it would be really cool to have that history eventually discovered.

As long as we're discussing all of the cartoons I used to watch back in the Awesome Ole' 80's, I can't forget Jem and the Holograms. What American girl in the 80's wouldn't have loved Jem? She was truly, truly outrageous (which for a short period in the late 80's was cool) after all.

I've been rewatching episodes here and there now that they're airing on The Hub. It would be interesting to see how this show would be reworked for 2011, because once again we have only a fairly plausible premise.

Jem is actually a holographically disguised Jerica Benton, owner of Starlight Music after her father dies. Jem's hologram is maintained by Synergy, a computer created by Jerica's late father. In their own right, Jerica's parents (what we know of them) were interesting in their own right. They were the Brad and Angelina of 1980's animated America, having not only Jerica and perennially Jan Bradyish younger Kimber, but also adopting Asian Aja and African American Shana. They liked this so much that they opened the Starlight House for orphans. It's in trying to save and fund this home for girls that Jerica becomes Jem, and her sisters just happen to be able to play keyboard, drums, and guitar forming the appropriately named Holograms.

Now, I was very into this show as a child. It spoke to me in a world of GI Joes and Transformers, because this was for girls and wasn't Barbie, whom I hated just because (Oh the things I did to my sister's Barbies when they were handed down to me). I named my dog after one of the Misfits, the main rival band, and almost had an emotional breakdown when I watched the third season episode where Jem ran away with Riot, from the band The Stingers, to a remote island.

It would be interesting to see how this show would be set up today. The almost constant internal war between the personalities of Jerica and Jem who dated the same guy, Rio, most of the time would be almost impossible today in this Prozac nation where anyone who has ever watched One Life To Live knows volumes about Dissociative Identity Disorder. Not to mention, but that whore Miley Cryus basically stole the premise for Hannah Montana. Also, according to the RIAA, Jem and the Holograms surely wouldn't make enough money cutting music in this day and age of piracy to actually fund the Starlight House. Those poor girls would surely be sold into white slavery by Pizazz and Eric Raymond.

I guess we have to remember that Jem is her name, Jem is her name, no one else is the same. That's all that matters, right?

Lastly, let's discuss the Transformers. I loved Transformers, but apparently not as much as Bart. Again, watching it on The Hub one night several months back, Bart and I laughed at some of the inanity of the plots. Why would Megatron want to take over a discotech? The most disturbing thing we saw was in the episode "The Search for Alpha Trion" though. Just, oh my gosh.

"The Search for Alpha Trion" is the episode where we first find out that there's such a thing as girlie Autobots. Not only where there female Autobots, but they were paired up with most of the prominent male ones we know. Optimus Prime's girlfriend was Elita Prime. At one point Elita was mortally injured, but Alpha Trion had Optimus save her in well, an nteresting way. Let's just say that Bart and I saw what we didn't see as children and stared at each other in disbelief. Transformers porn! I added the second half of said episode below from YouTube so you can see what I'm talking about. You can find what I'm talking about from around 7:19 - 7:50. I wonder if that's going to be worked into the fourth Transformers movie?

Next time, I'll rip apart He-Man and She-Ra.

Change of Time

2011-08-18T08:35:00.000-07:00

There's a new commercial for the NFL making the rounds on TV featuring one of my favorite songs by Josh Ritter, "Change of Time." While the commercial in itself is ok, if you like football, I love hearing that song play throughout the day while the tv plays over my head at work. That's probably because that song has been on my mind a great deal lately as I watch time march on in our lives.

My youngest two cousins (twins) turned 18 last week. I remember when they were born, I remember holding both of them, diapering them, cleaning up spit up, watching them learn to crawl and walk, and just playing with them. Now they're about to begin their Senior year of high school and started taking college classes at my old Junior College this week.

Another of our cousins, who is a year older than the twins, moved into her first dorm this week. She's in the same program at CASC that I was in 13 years ago, and we can joke about the mandatory meetings and the uncomfortable dinner where the scholars are introduced to their benefactor "adoptive parents" for the next two years. Again with Jordan, I remember practically her first steps, and now she's grown, starting out on her own (sort of, even though home is fifteen minutes away).

Just as the twins are finishing their high school careers, and Jordan is starting hers in college, our cousin Allison's little boy Jackson started Kindergarten this week. He's all young and excited to start school. I hope he maintains this enthusiasm throughout college. Soon enough his parents, younger brother, grandfather, and uncle will be helping him move into his first dorm room.

Time never ceases, it never stops changing things and people. Yet somehow some things remain the same. I find it amusing that I can give my younger cousins advice on instructors I had over a decade ago - in another century even. In the blink of an eye, it will be 2030, and Bart and I will be moving this baby that I'm carrying and just possibly starting to feel move about into his or her dorm for the first time.

Wow. Just wow.

Eighteen years ago when I was thirteen and holding my new twin cousins, I could barely even imagine what my life would be today. All in all, life has been very good to me. It will be interesting to see the twists and turns all our lives take in the next eighteen years.

Small Town America: Gone With the Wind

2011-08-09T10:46:00.000-07:00

A recent trend on Facebook has been these "You know you're from..." such and such place groups where people who grew up in a certain community can virtually gather together and reminisce about "the good ole days." Last week I found myself added to the "You know you're from Heavener, OK if" group and suddenly inundated with emails (and I thought I had Facebook set to send me absolutely no email) asking "Do you remember..."

At first, I was a little miffed because my inbox had blown up in just a couple of hours, but after I changed the notification settings for that one particular group, I started to actually read the posts and comments and really enjoy them. As much as I don't want to live there now, I loved growing up in Heavener.

To me, Heavener once personified what Small Town America was. It was the type of town you think of when you hear some Bruce Springsteen and most John Mellencamp songs on the radio: football games on Friday nights, cruising the main drag with your buddies, parades for any and everything, and church on Sunday mornings. It was a little bit like this still when I was a teenager in the nineties, but the decline of the small town was already rapidly happening. As a little girl in the eighties, I think that I saw the last of Heavener and in many ways the small town in its hey-day.

Slowly, one by one, the mom and pop stores that kept Heavener bustling and vital shuttered their windows and locked their doors. There were fewer customers to shop. Transportation to larger towns with bigger stores that had cheaper prices and more variety became more available to people, and the smaller businesses just couldn't compete. Also there were fewer customers because, as more of the younger population went off to obtain higher education in college, fewer and fewer came back home due to as John Mellencamp says in Small Town, it "provides little opportunity."

One needn't use much imagination to see what happens when fewer young people live and make families in a small, rural community while the older generations slowly and sadly die off. Little of what made the town wonderful remains; only empty, dilapidated buildings, faded mascots on water towers, and the memories of those who can still remember how great things once were.

I haven't lived in Heavener full-time since I was nineteen years old. From about the time I was in junior high or high school, a steady influx of illegal immigrants moved into town to work at the the local chicken plant. There was and still is a great deal of animosity between those who have always been there and the newcomers. Some of it is old fashioned prejudice, but a great deal of it comes from quite honestly an increase in crime and even (gasp) gang-related activity, people who lived where there aren't many rules for driving now driving unlicensed and uninsured, causing horrible accidents.

Due to the fact that they started showing up around the time of greatest decline in the community, blame on the downfall of Heavener is often put on the newcomers. Yes, the different culture has somewhat altered the previous way of life. However, technological progress and the transition from a small business oriented economy to one more corporate has even more so.

I miss hearing "Allegiance To Dear Old Heavener High" on Friday nights at football games just as soon as "The Star Spangled Banner" finishes being played by the band and after every (rare) touchdown. I miss going to the Christmas parade on the second Saturday in December, the Lion's Club Carnival the first Saturday in October, and the pride our town had in the colors purple and gold. Those all still exist to an extent, but it's been decades since the City Christmas Tree Lighting, since the Believers toured, and the Runestone is no longer the property of the State of Oklahoma. Some things are destined to become gone with the wind, just as the days of Scarlett O'Hara. Those things exist only in our memories now.

Things I've Recently Learned

2011-08-03T08:29:00.000-07:00

If you forget for a week to take a 12-pack of Caffeine Free Coke out of the trunk of your car, after temperatures outside get around 110º said cans tend to pop. Thankfully they didn't make a huge mess.
Also, when it gets just so hot outside, bird feeders hanging by a hook on a wooden fence just fall out by the nails.
Dory really likes to go shopping at PetSmart.
I still don't want to become good buddies with my new neighbors.
When the temperature gets around 110º, nothing seems cool.
Using iCloud to stream TV shows on Apple TV is just a little too convenient. I want an Apple TV in our bedroom now, of course we would need an HDMI compatible TV in there too... If things like
I've finally given in and started taking Zantac 75 for my acid reflux. I don't think I could survive the next six months if not.
I plan to steer clear of the area around the mall in Fayetteville this weekend since it's Arkansas' Tax Free Weekend for school supplies.

The New Neighbors

2011-08-02T09:40:00.001-07:00

Yesterday morning I opened the garage door before getting in my car to leave for work and was greeted with a "Mornin' Neighbor!" from across the street. Due to morning sickness I was already running late and not feeling well at all. She might as well have just yelled out, Hidilly Ho!" a la Ned Flanders.

I grimaced a little and glanced that direction and yelled, "Mornin!" waved absently, then got in the car. I was neither in the mood nor the position to have a meet and greet with my new neighbor.

Poor Bart went through a similar experience Sunday while he was trying to load his truck before leaving for parts of Oklahoma for most of this week. He was not feeling well either at the time. He's been run ragged at work, and because of that has been succumbing to a sinus infection. I think he told her, "Hi!" and that was it.

I feel a little badly about not greeting our neighbors properly. I mean, I grew up in Small Town, Oklahoma, where everyone knew your grandma, and your neighbors were some of your best friends. That said, I've been a more metropolitan dweller long enough now that I don't know most of my neighbors and for now, I'm ok with that.

We live in a nice-enough, friendly-enough neighborhood. It is not the type of neighborhood where you are close friends with your neighbors, have them for cookouts, or borrow an egg or cup of sugar if you don't have time to run to the store - you just run to the store. It's a neighborhood with several older couples (like the new neighbors) and people who work during the day then want nothing more than a quiet evening at home to themselves once they come home.

I imagine once the baby is born and if we ever are able to move into a slightly more affluent neighborhood (our house is the nicest in the neighborhood - which we learned is bad for property values )with kids the age of ours, we'll probably be a bit friendlier. Also, if we had anything in common with our neighbors we would be friendlier too.

We got on well with the couple who used to live across the street from us. We texted each other, their kids trick or treated our house, we shot fireworks in the cul de sac together some, and Lucy and Dory adored their four year old daughter and one year old son. We were never too close to them though. It was hard to be so, because they were best friends with the people who sold us our house, and Bart and I always felt like we were being compared to the others. I mean, they moved to Florida partly to be closer to them after four years.

We just live in a different society now. Wally and the Beav have to play in the back yard behind a fence and not the front, because someone might try to take take them from the front yard. Wilma and Betty don't talk over the fence while hanging laundry on the line. At most homes no one's there during the day, and nights are usually busy.. Do I wish we could get back to that whole "everybody's friends in the neighborhood" feeling? I do a some, but right now I'm content just knowing my current neighbors from afar. I know, I'm antisocial. Sue me.

2011-08-01T13:47:00.000-07:00

I've had a rather difficult time lately finding topics to post about. That happens when you know something that you're not ready to share with the public in general though. Everything else just seems less important, and it usually is. If you're friends with me on Facebook or close enough to have already been told, then you learned either Friday or this past weekend that Bart and I are expecting a baby in February.

After last January's events, we decided to not make it entirely public until I was through or almost through with my first trimester. We're almost past that particular finish line at 12 weeks now, and heard a healthy heartbeat Friday afternoon of 160 bpm. No, we didn't get another ultrasound. We had one at seven weeks, and as long as everything is ok, shouldn't again until our September appointment.

Yes, I'm very happy. That said no, this isn't going to become a baby blog or mom blog though I imagine I'll mention the baby from time to time just as I do the dogs right now. This is my blog. It has been my blog for six years, and I don't want to lose that bit of self. I have nothing against baby or mom blogs, but this has and always will be my place to express my thoughts, opinions, etc. Next year as I make the transition to stay-at-home-mom, I'll most surely need this place from time to time.

I'm a selfish being, and I know that I'm going to have to give more of myself than I ever have before. I'm ok with that, but I also still want to be me and not wholly consumed with my child's life to the point there is nothing else of me. You know?

Crosspost: A Really Awesome Dog

2011-07-28T07:58:00.000-07:00

Since Dory's second birthday (estimated) is just a few days away, I've been thinking about how much she's grown up since we first brought her home in October of 2009 at 10-12 weeks old. She was a mess, to say the least, and that little, malnourished, mistreated puppy totally threw our well-ordered home into complete chaos.

Lucy was almost two years old at the time, and especially since she had been around 15-18 months old, she just meshed well with everything we did. In some ways, we didn't really need another dog, but I could tell that Lucy was also fairly lonely a lot of the time and was always happy to spend time with other dogs (at least other retriever dogs - she's a bit breedist). Also, I just always wanted two dogs. Everything always seems happier in pairs.

So, I found Dory, or Rachel - as she was known at her rescue, on Petfinder and somehow managed to talk Bart into driving all the way up to Merriam, Kansas to adopt her. It really was love at first sight, seeing her just waiting in the kitten cages at PetSmart for someone to love her and take her home. Someone had already adopted her chocolate, more lab-like sister.

She was a good girl on the ride home, but she cried and whimpered some because she was obviously scared. In just a little time, she and her sister had been dumped on the side of the road when the irresponsible person who "bred" her couldn't sell or give her away at a Walmart parking lot - torn away from her mother and all she had known, been picked up by a rescue, lived in a foster home, taken to adoption day, and eventually adopted out to us.

When we got home, Lucy wasn't very happy about the black bundle in our arms - at first. She raised her hackles and let us know that she wasn't happy we brought home this little monster who kept playing with her toys. She even tried to put her prized Boomer doll where Dory couldn't reach him. It was so chaotic that first evening, that we wondered if we had made a huge mistake. Thankfully that lasted only a little while., and she soon became very protective of her "little sister" and loved her.

She was of course, a mess of puppy teeth and claws, always moving about. There was just something about her, and knowing how well Lucy matured, that made me think back then that by the time Dory was two years old, she would grow up to be one awesome dog. I was absolutely correct.

Now that she's almost two, let me tell you a little about Dory. When it's time to go to bed, she's always ready and settled down in her place at the foot of the bed in no time. She sleeps there every night and has since the first night we brought her home - no roaming. Come six in the morning, she's ready for me to get up, take her potty, and feed her breakfast. Then, she's ready to spend her morning either watching for Mr. Squirrel or playing with Lucy - if it's a morning Lucy decides to be a morning dog. She loves to be outside, but not when it's hot. Black fur and hot temperatures just don't get along at all.

She's fairly patient about things and just waits for you to give her treats - unless you mention balls or swimming. She loves to play with any type of ball or squeaky toy and loves to go swimming, but not in the wading pool in the back yard. She's a thinker, and observes things closely before reacting. I love to see her little head cock when she's studying something.

She loves to just sit on the couch and watch tv. She loves sports and action movies. She hates the DVD screen saver with a passion. She doesn't like heights. When I feed the girls, she always waits until Lucy starts eating her food to start her own. When Lucy doesn't seem interested in eating, she'll growl and bark at her, but she's not resource guarding. We think this stems from her homeless days, and she doesn't think Lucy should be wasteful.

She's been known to try and herd us when she wants something, though there's no shepherd in her DNA. She'll also herd Lucy when Lucy won't come when we call her. She's also been known to snitch on Lucy when Lucy does something she shouldn't - like the other night when she found a hole in a stuffed airplane toy and started pulling out stuffing. We thought Dory was just barking at Lucy, because Lucy has something she wanted (we've been working for two years to break that - it's slowly working), but in reality she was letting us know that Lucy was being bad.

She has a serious addiction to cheese. I even caught her red-handed last week, counter-surfing and stealing a bowl of rotel dip off the counter with webcams.

Mostly, she's a sweetheart. She is really just about the sweetest dog there is and loves so much. I can honestly say that she's a happy dog. We've given her a loving, happy home, and she's flourished. She's our Dory Gale who loves hugs and kisses more than anything. She's just a really awesome dog.

This is a bad pic, but it was her 2nd day home.

Random Thoughts

2011-07-12T14:07:00.000-07:00

I wonder how many times the media frenzy over so-called "Trials of the Century" led to an acquittal of someone who was more than likely guilty? 1) Lizzie Borden? 2) OJ Simpson? 3) Fatty Arbuckle? 4) Casey Anthony?
Bart and I caught a little of the show on TruTv called Police POV the other night. It's shot in Fort Smith. Makes us proud of the city where we were both born. :/
Yesterday Bart was at an airport in Oklahoma City for work. It was so hot that when he knelt down to take a picture, the asphalt came off on his jeans.
I like a lot of things Google, and I love most things Apple. That said, I've been given an invite to Google+ and am trying it out. I would like it more probably if it had an iOS app, if it already integrated this blog, and also my Youtube account.
I want republicans to stand their ground and refuse to give in to raising the debt ceiling. The time is now to take a stand on the government's massive spending spree. Our grandkids can't afford it.
I'm compiling video of Dory and Lucy chasing our neighborhood Mr. Squirrel. At some point when it's finished it will be an homage to Storm Chasers.

Priorities - Prioritizing

2011-07-11T10:32:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I was an avid blogger. Now I am a rather negligent one. Once upon a time I had far fewer responsibilities and far more time for posting about the mundane and not so mundane things in my life. Once upon a time, I had more time to do things that were interesting enough to post about. Now I have not only my husband and myself to take care of but the two dogs, a house where something always needs taken care of, and other things. When I find a moment to sit down at night, I don't want to write anything. I almost always fall asleep if I'm still for very long. Though sometimes it is frustrating, I'm ok with that.

I have a friend who is backing away from the online world a great deal to focus more on her family, and I commend her for it. Our priorities change with time. We cannot prevent those changes, they define us and refine us into who we are. Having priorities in place is a sign of maturity.

Once upon a time, I could spend hours reading and watching countless things on the Internet. Now I look in a few places I frequent, and am happy enough to put away my Macbook or Ipad and do something else. Blogging will continue, but thankfully there is life beyond the blogosphere.

Just a Quiet Weekend at Home

2011-07-05T09:47:00.000-07:00

Long ago, Bart and I had decided that we wanted to just spend our Independence Day weekend at home this year. It seems that we're always going in multiple directions these days, and just some quiet time at home sounded much more appealing than dealing with the heat and crowds at any outdoor destination we might have wanted to visit, and we didn't really want a lot of company (mainly meaning we didn't want my Mom to visit and all that entails), though we were more than happy to have Bart's parents come for a quiet cookout on Sunday.

Saturday we cleaned house and just enjoyed the day. Sunday, we finished cleaning and prepared everything for our cookout. We always enjoy having Bart's parents at the house, because they're just there to visit, not pry into things they shouldn't or tell us how we should do things. Since it was so hot outside, we mostly spent time watching Designing Women and The Big Bang Theory on DVD. Bart's parents got to see Dory's hatred of the DVD screen saver first hand, which is hilarious.

Monday, I have to admit, that I slept off and on from like ten in the morning until three. I don't sleep well in the summer. Bart is colder natured than I am, and we can't agree on a suitable bedroom temperature. I personally would prefer something arctic. So I often wake up some time around 2 am and toss and turn for at least an hour or two before finally getting back to sleep.

The girls are always ready for potty and breakfast around 6. Saturday and Sunday I left them in the back yard to play while I slept in, but Monday it was raining, and I couldn't. Lately they've become so obsesses with waiting for and then chasing the squirrel out of our back yard, that they do not sleep in well anymore. Dory will stay in the bedroom and just cry. Then Lucy will think she hears something and go off, barking at it. It was just easier to get up with them on Monday. They always tire out for a nap by ten or so.

Of course, Lucy was one of the biggest reasons we decided to have a low-key Fourth this year. She, like a great many other dogs, is deathly afraid of fireworks. She and Dory both had a dose of Benadryl every night around 7:30, and this helped some, but she still stuck to us like glue. If one of us got up, she either went to the other or was right on our heels. She wouldn't even go outside to potty last night, she just held it. I seriously hope no one shoots anything off tonight, because we could all use a break.

I Love Lucy

2011-06-27T08:19:00.001-07:00

Yesterday after church the girls had appointments at PetSmart to get groomed. It's probably been six months since their last grooming, and they were both looking very shaggy and getting mats in their ears all the time. I took Lucy first, for the 1:30 appointment, because she's usually the least compliant when going to three places: 1.) the vet, 2.) Camp Bow Wow, and 3.) the groomer.

At first she thought we were just going for a Mommy/ Lucy drive and was happy to hang her head out of the back window. She was even a great girl and didn't pull a bit when we got to PetSmart. When we went into the grooming area she got scared though.

She was really good and stayed in a sit/ stay for me. Then, when they called her to go behind the counter she got really scared and started shaking. I hugged her, kissed her, and reassured her, and she buried her head in my chest. I hated to leave her, but I knew she needed this and would be ok.

What really reminded me of why I love my red-headed girl by so much though, was something that happened as we were entering PetSmart. There were several people in that place between to two sets of automatic doors. They all commented on what a pretty girl she was, which she loved. One of the people was a young man with Downs Syndrome. He especially loved on Lucy, and what made me so proud of her is that she loved on him (nicely nag gently) just as much.

She is such a good, good dog. I forget that sometimes, like when she was full of mischief Saturday night and after having totally cleaned an ear of corn on the cob we gave her outside, came inside and stole what was left of a hamburger I had been eating (and was finished with) off the plate before we could clear the dishes. She has yet to stop amazing me with her remarkable ability to love and comfort though.

I just love Lucy.

Dory's a good, sweet girl too, but this was a Lucy-love post.

Untitled

2011-06-23T08:01:00.001-07:00

I wanted to post something lighthearted and funny today. However, my heart is breaking for my co-worker Meredith and her family. This morning their three-month-old son, Miller, passed away after struggling his short life with Type 1 Spinal Muscular Atrophy. I just don't have it in me to be witty or silly right now. I just keep praying for their strength and comfort as well as understanding for their three-year-old son, Cole. You can read about this amazing family here.

Please pray for all of them.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

This Is what Goes On At My House Early Every Morning

2011-06-22T09:27:00.001-07:00

That Was a Big Squirrel

2011-06-13T09:51:00.000-07:00

This is a not-very-focused picture I snapped last week of Lucy and Dory doing their newest hobby: squirrel watching, which leads to squirrel chasing. First of all, let me tell you that even though I find this quite entertaining, I'm not enjoying the hours they keep doing it.

The sun has been coming up just a little after 5am for a while now. Not long after, Dory will start stirring in bed. Then Lucy will stir in bed, and while Bart is still sleeping, these two are panting in my face and sometimes whimpering (Dory) for me to take them out for their first potty and start our day. Of course, I can't take them outside until I first go outside and clear the back yard of mushrooms, which hasn't been an easy job lately with the heat and humidity.

Anyway, back to the squirrel chasing, my normally happy-to-sleep-in babies are squirrel chasing nut jobs! They want me, never Bart, to get up with them and the roosters so that I can aide them in their pursuit, namely letting them in and out of the house. They know that they have to hide out in the house, watching from the windows for Mr. Squirrel to appear, so they need me to be their gatekeeper. So Saturday morning, they started with the usual routine. I will admit that for a while I did leave them in back yard to play and chase amongst each other, because I HAD to get a little extra sleep. When Bart and I did get up and let them back in the house, the hunt was still on.

For various reasons, Bart and I were both super tired this weekend, so we spent Saturday doing the things we needed to around the house, but did it at a very slow rate. That included showering and dressing. Some time after eleven, Bart went to shower first, and Lucy and Dory started their squirrel obsessed commotion that happens when there's a squirrel spotting.

As soon as I let them in the back yard, something jumped over our 7 foot tall privacy fence; a teenage boy. Dory and Lucy were hot on his tail as he ran across our yard and jumped the other side of the fence. I ran in and told Bart, who had just gotten out of the shower, to call 911. Then I went out the front door and yelled at the kid. He yelled back that his dad was after him. Whatever the reasons, I'm glad we called 911. He's also fortunate that I wasn't the first one to shower Saturday, or he could easily have been shot. After this, Dory and Lucy were super proud of themselves, and they had a record number of squirrel chases yesterday morning.

Balls for a Cause

2011-06-07T12:09:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, Bart and I won a pair - of balls - baseballs, that is. We were at the NWA Naturals game, because it was Bart's office's family night and happened upon an auction going on where all proceeds went toward Red Cross efforts in Joplin. Now, Bart and I are all about giving to a good cause, and we're also all about getting cool stuff in return. So, out of everything there, Bart bid on a team autographed photo of Arvest Ballpark during one of our record snowfalls and we both bid on separate baseballs autographed by Brett Eibner.

Who is Brett Eibner, you ask? He's a former Razorback outfielder and pitcher who is now playing for the Royals Class A team, the Kane County Cougars. He is an outstanding hitter who had a habit of saving important games right at the last out, with home runs. Bart and I are hoping that soon he'll make it up to Double A, so we can see him play with the Naturals. Right now he's rehabbing an thumb injury, so it may be next year before he moves up in the system. Still yet, we're betting that he'll be big in the majors some day.

If he does make it big, the two balls we won will be worth more than the $45 I bid on mine, and the $60 Bart bid on his. Bart didn't win the photo. He and some other guy got into a sort of bidding war over the photo, and Bart didn't like it just enough to pay over $100 for it. It was like watching eBay in real life. Everyone really hovered around what they wanted, trying to be the last to bid. It was fun, and we came home with a couple of nice mementos for a good cause.

He's Gone Fishing

2011-06-03T13:53:00.000-07:00

Bart actually got to leave the office today before 2pm. Even though it's a summer rule that he can work four nine hour days and leave after four hours on Friday, Bart rarely gets to do this. He's usually working on Fridays until 5 or later, and that's after working ungodly hours all week. He still worked some ungodly hours this week. Tuesday he worked until 2 Wednesday morning and Wednesday he worked until midnight. Today, he actually got to leave early though. So, when he called me on my lunch to ask if I would mind if he went fishing, I had no problem with it.

Now, if Bart spent all of his time fishing, I wouldn't like it - at all. He doesn't though. He rarely gets to go at all. In fact her rarely ever gets to do anything fun. He takes his responsibilities very seriously, at home and at work. There are always other things that need to be done when he isn't working, and he honestly deserves the break. It's win-win for me, because I don't have to go with him. I'm just not in the mood for that right now. I would rather do something I haven't been able to do in a while and write.

The dear man needs a chance to relax. I just hope he only catches fish, but hopefully he'll catch tomorrow night's supper.

All the Little Trails....

2011-06-02T13:58:00.000-07:00

You Can't Take The Marching Band Out of the Girl - I announced to Bart this past weekend while we were at the mall that I would soon be in the hunt for a new pair of sneakers because my big toes were starting to really wear through the last pair I bought two years ago. Bart couldn't really understand how a person who finished growing over fifteen years before could be wearing the toes out of her sneakers. Then he looked down at the way I walk, seeing first-hand the glide-step that was ingrained in my brain after five years of high school marching band. He answered himself, "You were in band!" Yes, even though I was in marching band less than one-sixth of my life, the glide-step will always be a part of me. You can take the girl out of the marching band, but you can't take the marching band out of the girl. I will probably always walk, rolling my feet heel to ball on the outside, keeping my big toes pointed toward the sky.
The Moon Must Be Full or Something - Today my dogs were weird. I know, I know, they're always weird, but today they were really weird. I was putting on my makeup this morning upstairs, as usual, when Bart called from downstairs. He was getting ready to step into the shower and opened the door. Lucy never, ever goes into Bart's shower. She's usually too claustrophobic. Today she did though, and when the door started to close on her, she just stood there, looking all perplexed. It's not like she can't push a door open either. She does it all.the.time. She just didn't. Bart opened the door to start the water, and eventually she got out. You know, just in time for us to see her sister, strangely standing on Bart's nightstand, sniffing the top of his lamp for some reason, wholly unknown to us. This is not a normal behavior either.
Back In The Saddle - I'm trying my hand at writing again - a little. I want to finish something in particular before or around the 70th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. I also don't plant to post anything until I have a great deal of it already written. The thing is, when you haven't worked on something in a good while, what seemed good then, needs rewritten now. I guess it's a good way to refine things though.

Along For the Ride

2011-06-01T10:23:00.000-07:00

Don't worry, she's restrained to the truck.

This is Lucy, hanging her head out the back passenger side door of the Tundra this past Sunday on a little, country road as we drove toward a little out-of-the-way lake. She lives for this sort of thing. Actually both girls do, and Dory was doing her own version (usually much more subdued and dignified looking than Lucy with her lips flapping almost to her ears at times) of this on the driver's side. They love just going with us somewhere -almost anywhere, actually. They're fine, just going along for the ride. Well, they are until they think we're going to stop somewhere to let them swim. You should have heard the cries and whimpers from Dory when we started to leave the very lake we're headed to in this picture, because so many people were there. Thankfully we found an open, isolated area for them to swim.

I got to thinking, and I too like to go along with Bart somewhere, just for the ride as well. I've been thinking about that a lot lately since my friend Elouise82 mentioned that some of her best spousal conversation occur with her husband on a road trip, and I know that Bart and I are much the same If you look back at our relationship, a great deal of it has been spent, just the two of us riding together somewhere or nowhere at all. So I guess there's a reason why I love riding shotgun with him so much.

Back when we first started dating nine years ago, Bart and I spent a great deal of time in the truck or car, driving to where I lived with my Mom in Poteau, driving to his parents' house in Greenwood, driving to the store where we both worked summers and met in Fort Smith, and not to mention, just driving because we both love getting out and exploring places together. Once we were married, we often drove back home to see family, and also just drove about Arkansas, once again exploring and going on adventures. You do that sort of thing when gas is relatively cheap, and you live in a small apartment where you only want to spend so much of your time.

By the time we lived in Bryant, Bart was set in accomplishing his goal of visiting every county in Arkansas. We saw a whole lot in doing that, though I still tease him about the time I fell asleep and woke up crossing the Texas border into Louisiana, when I thought we were still in Arkansas. I cherish those memories. I only wish I had started blogging a year or two earlier and had owned a good digital camera at the time, though somewhere there are some old-school pictures that I could scan from those days.

I think just driving around has always been one of our favorite activities. I guess that's one thing I've inherited from my parents, they would pack all four of us in Dad's old, red Dodge and drive us all over Southeastern Oklahoma on weekends when I was a kid.

Bart and I don't get as many opportunities to just load into the truck or car and drive here or there anymore. We have a home that needs constant care, and we cannot ever forget the dear doggies, though they often go with us now. Bart works a very demanding job, and often has to at least bring work home with him on the weekends, if he isn't in the office or on the road. So, I embrace the idea of just maybe getting to do this from time to time. Heck, just driving together to pick up take-out for supper is often a joy to me, and we really do have some of our better discussions even just doing this together in the car.

We both often lament the fact that we belong to a church that is a relatively long distance from our home. We cannot just jump into the car and be there in five minutes. It takes around thirty or so minutes to drive up to Bentonville. We do want to live there some day, because we know that's where belong. We certainly visited many churches that are closer where we didn't belong. I think that maybe God has us living in one place and belonging to church in another to maybe, just maybe give us a little of that time together in the car again.

Hardly a Sunday doesn't go by when we're not deeply discussing the sermon and how it relates to our lives as we drive home. By the time we get to where we can see the throngs of people at Cross Church at Pinnacle Hills, we've usually already had a fairly meaty conversation.

Though I do still want to someday live closer to my church, so I can be more involved, I'm thankful that God has given us this time together when we're both along for the ride.

Dilemma

2011-05-27T08:14:00.000-07:00

What do you do when you have two first cousins from the same side of the family getting married on the same day? You don't go to either, and that's exactly what we're doing tomorrow, even though my cousin Sara Scott is getting married in Nashville, AR, and my cousin Pete Scott is getting married in Ozark, AR.

Instead, we're going to happily host my friend Melissa, her husband Jeremy, and their two boys for a couple of hours as they travel to Branson. Then our good friends Brandon and Erin are going to stop by for a while. I look forward to both a lot more than I would have attending either wedding. Not that I have anything against weddings, but it's nice to be able to spend time visiting with friends of our choosing. It's especially nice to get to visit with friends you rarely if ever get to see.

Rubbernecking & Drinking the Kool-aid

2011-05-25T20:08:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm missing some huge, momentous event in not watching Oprah's final show today. I feel like I should want to watch it. A very minuscule part of me wants to, out of morbid curiosity much like rubber necking past a horrible car accident just in case you might see an injured person. For the most part though, I have to admit that I'm thinking good riddance. It's about time. Now maybe people will stop looking to the all-knowing Oprah for all of life's answers.

It's disgusting how so many people have practically made a religion of doing what Oprah tells them to do. I'm fairly certain a great many people voted for our current president because she told them to. Jim Jones' kool-aid was nothing compared to that woman's favorite things.

I don't understand the woman's appeal, personally. I certainly never needed a talk show host to tell me what kind of sheets I should buy or whatever else she has hocked on air. Of course, I don't understand the appeal of many people who are supposed supposed to be so appealing these days.

Take Lady Gaga. The first time I've ever paid a little attention to her was Saturday night, because we wanted to watch Justin Tpmberlake host SNL. First of all, she's vulgar. I don't think that I was old enough to watch her perform, much less young people. Secondly, she totally rips off of Madonna's music and her acts, but was (believe it or not) far raunchier. It saddens me that she might be considered the voice of a generation. People would be better off with Pee Wee Herman being their voice.

Another example of someone throngs (at least used to) flock to is our president. I don't much care for him, though not for any racist reasons, so any hacks out there, just shut up. Last I checked, I should be able to disagree with a man's ideologies and his policies without throwing down the race card. I don't think he has the best interests of our country at heart, and I don't think that he is in any way in touch with the people of this country. The only thing he's done in his time in office that I halfway approve of was give the go ahead to kill Osama Bin Ladin. That was done thanks to Bush administration policies that set the whole thing in motion years ago. Policies that Senator Obama opposed, yet they probably handed him his finest hour in what will hopefully turn out to be a one-term presidency.

Back to Oprah, I wonder how many people will buy expanded cable that they can't afford, just to see her channel?

Too many, I'm sure.

It's the End of the World As We Know It

2011-05-20T14:46:00.000-07:00

I have had this song stuck in my head for days, for somereason. First of all, I want to say that if indeed the Rapture occurs tomorrow at 6:00 pm Pacific Time, I am ready. In fact I'm ready if it happens before then or some time after the time appointed by Mr. Random Radio Evangelist. The fact remains that I seriously doubt that it will happen tomorrow. Why? Easy.

Matthew 24:36-44 (English Standard Version)
No One Knows That Day and Hour
³⁶"But concerning that day and hour^(A) no one knows, not even the angels of heaven,^(B) nor the Son,^[a]^(C) but the Father only. ³⁷^(D) For as were the days of Noah,^(E) so will be the coming of the Son of Man. ³⁸^(F) For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking,^(G) marrying and giving in marriage, until^(H) the day when Noah entered the ark, ³⁹and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away,^(I) so will be the coming of the Son of Man. ⁴⁰Then two men will be in the field; one will be taken and one left. ⁴¹^(J) Two women will be grinding^(K) at the mill; one will be taken and one left. ⁴²Therefore,^(L) stay awake, for you do not know on what day^(M) your Lord is coming. ⁴³^(N) But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what part of the night^(O) the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. ⁴⁴Therefore you also must be^(P) ready, for^(Q) the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.

That pretty much sums things up for me. "Not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only." If Jesus doesn't even know when he's coming back until He's told, then I seriously doubt Mr. Random Radio Evangelist knows. Anyway, if he's so certain it's happening tomorrow, why is his website still taking donations? He also has made claims like this before, as had other people. I've certainly told the story about when people believed this would occur in 1988, and my mother's mistaken belief in it. I'm still rather amazed that I'm not in therapy for that.

I do believe it will happen. Whether or not it happens in my lifetime, whether or not the Tribulation happens before or after the Rapture, I can honestly say that I don't care. I'm really not interested in Premillennialism, Postmillennialism, or Amillennialism , because it's not as though I, a mere human, have any control over it. . I never even got into the whole Left Behind book series even though I won an autographed copy of one once. They're very poorly written. It doesn't matter as long as I am ready, which I amI have been since July 12, 1994, when I accepted Jesus as my Savior.

I'm not really frightened by the idea either. It sure beats the heck our of dying of some horrible, lingering disease. There are things I would like to do before it happens though, I can't lie. I'm human. I want to know what it's like to be a mom. I want to see those kids grow up and choose Jesus on their own. I want all of these things, because I am human and attached to things of this earth. If it doesn't get to happen though, I don't think I'll care. Compared to the glories of Heaven, the things of this earth just seem dirty - like they're tainted with dirt that. Anyway, I'll finally get to meet someone very special to me.

Just for laughs, here are a few posts from "Stuff Christians Like" about the Rapture. You'll get a good laugh.

Worrying About the Rapture
Know Where Not To Be During the Rapture
Fearing the Rapture Would Come Before You Lost Your Virginity (I so did this)
Thinking the Rapture Has Happened When You're Alone (OK, the though has crossed my mind before.)

Here's a more serious song about the Rapture. It's referenced in the last SCL post.

New Favorite Blog

2011-05-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

I have a new favorite blog to read. It's called "Stuff Christians Like." It's supposed to be somewhat like Stuff White People Like. which I haven't read though may take a look at some point down the line. It takes a very satirical look at the things that many Christians have grown used to, pokes some fun at them, and in the end often gets you to thinking about our own behaviors. The book reviewers.

From Publishers Weekly
After creating his answer to the blog "Stuff White People Like," Christian blogger Acuff saw his satirical Web site become a popular Internet destination. His best essays, accompanied by childlike illustrations, comprise this book, which maintains the structure of his short posts. From sexual purity to crock pots to clapping during worship, Acuff uses a standup comedy style to laugh with Christians at their private conventions. Readers will learn the unspoken rules of Christian living, including the (in)appropriate use of God's name to avoid a speeding ticket and obligations to "think about going into full-time ministry at least once every three years." Entries such as the diagram of a metrosexual worship leader mimic the truth-telling wit of the Web site ChurchMarketingSucks.com and will appeal most to young Christian hipsters. Sarcasm masks a deeper layer of commentary that exposes hypocrisies and faith flaws, and readers may want to amend these behaviors to avoid becoming the subject of Acuff's newest jokes on his blog. Acuff's ability to point out unbecoming idiosyncrasies while inducing a knee slap is stuff readers will like.

I think the best post I've read so far is a guest post but just hits home so hard I can't help but laugh with it. "Surviving Church As A Married Couple Without Kids." I took the test, and I scored a 40 - at least. Give it a read, and try not to find yourself laughing and finding it hits very close to home.

Mondays With Bart

2011-05-16T23:06:00.000-07:00

Tonight was the first Monday night since probably January that Bart has been home with us. Hopefully it is the first of many, now that his last semester of teaching at JBU is over. I sometimes forget how nice it is just to talk to him about our days before we're both totally exhausted and crabby, for both of us to play with the girls, to share our chores, and for me to prepare dinner for us. It felt nice and normal.

I don't like that I began to think of his not being home at night as normal. We've adjusted well with it, but I know that it has also taken a toll on us, if in no other way, causing us both to be just so tired when we were with each other. I know he'll still have to go out of town for work. That's all fine and good, but knowing that he doesn't have to spend nights that he could be home teaching is nice. I'm glad he got the opportunity to do something he always wanted to do, but I'm also glad that I have a little more of him again. We're actually talking about doing things again.

The girls like having him home more too. They took full advantage of his being tired and wanting to stretch out on the living room floor last night.

Here they are, all cuddled up together.

Lucy thinks Bart needs her duck.

Dory chews a Nylabone next to Daddy.

Lucy's just happy.

******Correction*****

This was the second Monday Bart was home. It's just the first Monday of a week he doesn't have to go out of town overnight any.

Hallmark Mistakes

2011-05-16T10:02:00.000-07:00

It seems as though lately Bart and I have been purchasing a great many cards at our local Hallmark store for various reasons which all put together greatly cover a person's life from Mother's Day, new babies, graduations, weddings, and sympathy cards. We've probably had to make out more wedding and sadly sympathy cards than anything else though.

Yesterday Bart was looking for the last sympathy card I bought so he could fill it out, and I couldn't find it. All the while, we have a leftover wedding card that I chose not to use for a particular wedding because we were taking a gift, and I bought a card to match the wrapping paper for said gift. Still yet, I do not know what became of the sympathy card. I am hoping.... praying that we didn't accidentally mail anyone a sympathy card in place of a wedding card.

I mean really, can you imagine expecting another card of congratulations on your recent nuptials and instead finding a card filled with condolences? Surely we've all thought such a thing would have been more appropriate in some instances, but to actually do it - and by accident? Leave it to the Gilbreaths to pull something like that. After all, Bart did buy me a birthday card our second married Valentine's Day because he didn't want to fight the other men also buying last minute Valentine's Day cards.

What can I say? We care enough to send the very worst?

Our Devious, Wandering Minds...

2011-05-13T14:36:00.000-07:00

Get ready for a little Jibber Jabber....

A week ago, that little visitor who is supposed to visit every 28 or so days didn't come when it was supposed to. After a day or two I didn't think too much of it, because of all the stress my body had been through. Also, I was sick as a dog almost all of last week, so my mind just didn't go there. I didn't want to go there either, because again, my body had been through so much the previous week that I (and Bart) didn't really want to consider the most obvious reason the visitor had yet to visit, because knowing what I and my body had and still was going through, things would probably not end well. That 's not to say that we wouldn't have been ecstatic had things ended well though. While carrying one of my friend Melissa's twin two-year-old boys around at the wedding, Bart told me that I looked good with a baby on my hip.

Anyway, after four days I decided it was time to you know but was out of my preferred tests, Clear Blue Easy Digital. Bart and I had to run to Walmart to purchase the girls this year's plastic wading pool anyway, so we decided to pick up a new box of sticks. This is where the story actually gets a little interesting....

We then walked over to the produce area to buy some fruit, and I think got the funniest look from an old lady at the tangelos. I guess she saw what was in my hand, probably thought I was much younger than I am (people often do), and thought that I was some poor, young girl who got herself in trouble. I mentioned it to Bart, and we both had a good laugh.

While there, we realized that it was Fayetteville High School's Prom Night, and I commented to Bart, "Glad we're buying these now, because I imagine in a couple weeks there'll be a run on these after tonight."

Yes, dear readers, that is where my mind wanders.

Not to be left behind though, Bart suggested that I walk into that Walmart around 5 or 6 the next morning, wearing my bridesmaid dress, looking well... basically like hell, and buying the tests then. I laughed, told him that would be funny and we joked about it some more.

Yes, dear readers, that is where my husband's mind wanders.

Of course, I didn't do that, because my body really was exhausted from everything from the last couple of weeks. I slept until around 8 or 8:30 Sunday, used one of those little sticks, got the answer I honestly (for this once) hoped for, and my visitor finally visited a few hours later.

I still think that next week when I buy groceries, I'm going to check and see if that aisle could use some serious restocking. I'm just curious.

A Bit About the Wedding

2011-05-11T10:04:00.002-07:00

This seems to be a recurring theme these days. Either lack or energy, lack of time, or lack of anything to say has prevented me from posting regularly. Also, I keep waiting until I have time to convert the RAW images we took at Stephanie's wedding to JPG's so I can post them here, and I just haven't been able to do that yet. I will tell you something about the wedding though.

It was a very big wedding in both size of wedding party and length of service. Everyone's bridesmaids dresses fit - a little too well. We could hardly breathe or move. A few people sent others out to Target or Walmart to by Spanx or close facsimiles because they were afraid they would bust the bottoms of their dresses.

The groomsman who escorted me from the altar passed out about a quarter into the hour-long service. Yours truly dehydrated on the stage. Thankfully I kept my composure through the two pastors, personally written vows, vows to mothers, vows of the congregation, slide show, interpretive painting, and everything else.

This was a big step for Stephanie and Stefan (yes, those are their names). It's a big step for anyone, but Stephanie especially because she has dealt with a serious fear of intimacy and commitment all of her life. We seriously went on runaway bride watch several hours before the ceremony. I'm not kidding, and I worried she would have an asthma attack, because I've never known anyone who has worse asthma than she does.

In the end, what matters is that they're married. They have a long road ahead of them, but who doesn't? Like I posted on Facebook and Twitter last week, "We all have baggage, some of us just pay more to get on the plane." I'm happy for my friend. I think I'll always worry about her, but I'm truly happy she found someone.

On a side note: I heard more about fake breasts during the preparation for the wedding than I have ever heard in my life and ever plan on hearing again.

Out of Routine

2011-05-06T08:40:00.000-07:00

First of all, so far age 31 hasn't been so hot. Sunday was my birthday, and I've had a sinus infection since Monday. I felt a little off Monday, but attributed it to my long, strenuous weekend bridesmaiding it. Then I got a little worse on Tuesday. Then I felt so badly on Wednesday I left work and went home to sleep.all.day. Yesterday I was a little better than Wednesday, and today I'm a little better than yesterday. I'm hoping a nice weekend at home will get me to that 100% mark.

Of course I think one of the reasons I got so down is because I have been without much routine for too many days. Bart and I both are two people who thrive on routine. Well actually Bart, Lucy, Dory, and I all thrive on routine. I am so ready to return to routine. Today, even though I came to work as usual, was not routiney either.

My in-laws spent the night last night. I have nothing against their spending the night. I love my in-laws and would rather spend time with them than my own mother and sister, because you know, they're not crazy or always so worried about being offended that every little thing offends them. They also mind their own business and know boundaries. They spent the night to help Bart re-sod parts of our back yard today. So, I'm really glad and thankful that they're here. I just am very ready for my routine to return. :)

It's going to be a new routine, because Bart gave his final final (at least for the time being) as an adjunct professor. That means that hopefully he'll be home a little more often in the evenings. I hope we don't end up killing each other, because we're not used to spending that much time together anymore.

2011-05-03T08:44:00.000-07:00

I.feel.like.poo.

My sinuses have caused my ears (mostly my right) to ache, my nose (mostly right side again) to run, and throat to hurt (guess which side?).

I want to wrap up in a blanket and nap on a couch all day, curled up on my left side.

When I get home tonight I've got to iron and cook as well as clean the upstairs some, because Bart' parents are coming Thursday night to help Bart re-sod our back yard.

Ugh.

Sigh.

A Birthday To Remember

2011-05-02T14:20:00.000-07:00

Some time, I'm going to update you all on my weekend as the Thirty Year Old Bridesmaid. It was an interesting weekend. Let's just say a groomsman fainted during the ceremony on the altar. I will also tell you about how Bart and I spent some very much needed time alone together, just tooling around OKC, how we watched the girls on the Camper Cams at Camp Bow Wow, and they're behavior, and also about getting to spend time with another old, dear friend, Melissa and her family. Events last night changed my blog-posting priorities though, and I feel it's better to put off the fluff to discuss what last night's announcement means to me.

Yesterday I turned 31 years old. Not much of a big deal, huh? I didn't think so, honestly. We had had a long weekend and didn't get home until well after ten Saturday night. I planned to spend Sunday, birthday or not, doing laundry picking up the house, and trying to rest some for the week. We only left the house once, and that was to pick up the girls at Camp late that afternoon, because Camp Bow Wow has odd Sunday hours, and we wanted them bathed before bringing them home.

As far as birthdays go, it was low-key, which is what I wanted. I had honestly forgotten about it some. Bart gave me my gift (a camera lens I have yet to find time to use, but he used a lot this weekend) on Wednesday night, before we left for the wedding. I had received my cards from everyone I expected to send one, and I waited on the inevitable phone calls that came sporadically throughout the day. I even managed a short nap on the couch while Bart watched an NBA game while listening to the rain fall yet again.

That night, Bart and I were on the couch with the girls watching our Sunday Night shows, Desperate Housewives and Brothers & Sisters, ending the weekend in a nice, quiet way. Then, half-way through Brothers & Sisters (during May Sweeps, no less) and ABC News Special Report came on the air, stating that President Obama planned to make a speech.

Really? REALLY? He had to interrupt halfway through Sunday night prime time shows during sweeps for what - to tell us he planned to spend more money we don't have? I'll have to say that this was the first and probably the last time I've been happy to hear President Obama speak. I'll never forget hearing Bart say, "This had better be good," just before it was announced that Osama bin Laden was dead.

I would think that was good news. :)

Now, I don't normally rejoice in the death of a human being, but I have to admit that I cried tears of joy last night when I heard the news. This man lived with only one purpose, and that was to kill Americans. We are all in the long run safer with him gone. There is no question about it. I can't imagine anyone who has the images of 9-11 burned in their memories who couldn't rejoice in the news. Yet, there are some who don't for whatever reasons.

This needed to be done. If you read and listen to details as they become clearer, you know that this was an undertaking that took the entire almost ten years to accomplish, because Pakistan willingly turned a blind eye to his whereabouts for years.. Four years ago (during GWB's administration) enhanced interrogation techniques (there really is a time for them) used at Guantanamo Bay (yeah that place actually did serve a purpose) wrangled out the nickname of Osama's most trusted courier. Two years ago intelligence identified areas in Pakistan where the courier and his brother operated, but they didn't have exact locations. From September of last year on, intelligence officials pinpointed where he was and started planning the operation.

In the long run, the world will be a safer place because he is gone. However, I would not be surprised if there are attempts at retaliation for his death. Nor do I doubt that someone will eventually step up into his place. There will always be people who hate us for the freedoms we have. There will always be those who want to bring us to our knees. Thankfully, there has always been people willing to risk everything to prevent those who hate us from succeeding in bringing us to our knees.

Right now, I have to celebrate though. God Bless America. I got a birthday present that can never be made better: a feeling of peace and justice.

Slowly I Become One With the Mud.

2011-04-25T20:46:00.000-07:00

Remember this little ditty? It kept playing in my head all day long as report after report of serious flooding well.... flooded into the station today. What started out as a rather typical Monday where I was just worried about getting complaint calls because some aired an audio clip of Porky Pig cursing last night after the news. We all knew it rained a lot and was raining more, but I don't think anyone had any idea how bad today was going to get.

Around noon or a little before, we started hearing over the scanner news of people having to be rescued from their cars at odd places. When I heard two particular intersections I have to go through in order to get home, I decided I would not be taking a lunch today. That is all fine and good on a normal day, but I had two girls at home waiting to be pottied, and my backup was in Oklahoma City again. So, the girls had to wait.

Thankfully they both held their bladders and colons beautifully. There wasn't a sign of an accident, and nothing was destroyed in the house. In fact, it was rather obvious that they had slept all day long.

Personally, I was just glad to be able to get home at all tonight. It was a serious concern for me, but I knew that come hell or high water (ha, ha, ha) I had to get home to my girls tonight. Thankfully I did.

Well, the rain isn't yet over, and I'm super sleepy. Maybe I'll remember the rest of what I wanted to post tomorrow. Pray that we get to dry out soon.

Nothing In Life Is Guaranteed

2011-04-22T08:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning I came across an ABC News story extolling the wonderfulness of "hybrid" / "designer" dogs. It made me very angry, and I ended up writing several complaints to ABC News, The Wall Street Journal (where ABC got the idea), and also a very animated blog post on The Rowdy Retriever Girls Blog.

I was fired up. I had my soapbox, and I was ready to scream at the top of my lungs from it. I'm not one for most "causes," but this is a practice that absolutely disgusts me, and I felt I couldn't say enough against it. I was ready to cross-post here when I received a new work email. It simply asked that we as a work family keep a coworker and her family in our prayers as their newborn was diagnosed with a muscular disorder that is probably muscular dystrophy.

The wind then blew out of my sails. My heart ached for all of them, especially this sweet, perfect little boy. Of course I would pray for them, without question. But what was I to pray for? Then I remember Romans 8:26-27

²⁶ In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. ²⁷ And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. (Romans 8:26-27, New International Version, ©2011)

I didn't have to know what to pray for, but just to pray. I firmly believe my heart was already praying before my mind could grasp it. It still does, and it will continue to do so.

Suddenly whatever I was going to post, though it may be important to me, wasn't important enough anymore. Nothing really was just then. I just thought over and over again about how there are no guarantees in this life. Nothing can ever be taken for granted. Then, it being Easter, I thought of one guarantee"

⁵ “Never will I leave you;
   never will I forsake you.”
⁶ So we say with confidence,
   “The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid.
   What can mere mortals do to me?” (Hebrews 13:5-6, New International Version, ©2011)

We tend to forget everything that was done for us on the cross or just not think about it at all. Our pain, our guilt, our shame, our sin were taken upon the shoulders of a man who did nothing to ever know the pain, the guilt, the shame, of sin.

I've talked lately of being miserable without an air conditioner, but what do I really know of misery? Nothing. Even in my darkest, lowest moments I can never know the utter despair and agony that Christ Suffered on the cross for me, because He will never leave me nor will He forsake me. I imagine true hell is the agony, darkness, despair, and utter loneliness of being separated from God by sin in the manner Christ was. Because He is mine, and I am his, I will never know that. That is the one guarantee of this life - the only one.

Right now, my friend is just asking for prayers, and prayers they shall all have. Please remember them all as well. There is a long road ahead, but my God is their God, and He will be carrying them just when they think He has abandoned them.

Poster Children For Poor Customer Service

2011-04-20T10:18:00.000-07:00

Dory's fav. spot sans AC.

I need to get a hair cut. I planned to do it some evening this week. I've been planning to do it for several weeks. Something always comes up: I'm tired, I've got to cook tonight, I have cramps and want to curl up in hole somewhere, it's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring. Mostly I just haven't had time, due to rather valid reasons that I jump on like a tick in the deer woods. I hate having things done to me. Still yet, I need a trim before I descend into the depths of bridesmaidville next weekend. Of course, one of the valid reasons for not getting the trim is that I have to pick up my dress tomorrow. I should have known to pick it up last Saturday, but I didn't know to because of just one instance in a long line of mishaps that have branded Bart and me as the poster children for recipients of horrible customer service.

I called the little, mom and pop bridal shop where I ordered my dress a couple of weeks ago. They assured me that my dress should arrive on the 15th if not sooner, and that they'd call me when it arrived. I never received a phone call from them. Of course, I was a little preoccupied Friday and Saturday to call them myself with our air conditioner problems. Remember those air conditioner issues I mentioned last week? They were just resolved yesterday morning, but let me start from this past weekend to give you a more intimate look at my past week.

Thursday night after the AC repairman left, what would end up being a historic string of tornadic thunderstorms popped up here because it was so insufferably hot and humid. Mercifully the storms brought with them much, much cooler air as well as my traveling-man husband. So, I spent Friday night and Saturday washing and drying all of the laundry and running every appliance I might need, because I knew the cooler air wouldn't last long. I was a little too preoccupied to remember to call about my dress. Besides, I had my phone with me at all times (rare for phonephobic me), because I was waiting to hear that possibly the compressor could be in and installed that weekend.

Oh, I can't forget that at some point over the weekend I found an odd plastic box in the back yard that the girls had carried around some and showed it to Bart. He didn't know what it was, so he threw it away.

While sitting in the living room Saturday night with the windows open and fans blowing, Bart went over our last month's back statement and commented that we had yet to receive our tax return. This was somewhat odd, because it had been some weeks since we completed our taxes and our accountant had e-filed them. We knew it might take a while longer to get our return because we itemize out the wahoo, but we thought it surely had to be in. So, Bart made a mental note to call our accountant on Monday.

Monday morning I got ready for work, still carrying my phone with me everywhere we went. Just as I was about to leave, Bart looked at his phone and saw that the AC repair had called his phone, even though we told them over and over to call mine, because due to Bart's schedule, I had to be the one dealing with the issue. He called them back, and we scheduled for them to come install the compressor after my lunch. I would just take off the afternoon. They were to call me if they couldn't make it.

So, I waited in the heat of the day with my two trusty sidekicks, who have learned the art of hogging open windows and fans. I waited, and waited, and waited. By the time it was far too late to drive back to work and be productive, they finally called to say they couldn't make it that day.

The thought of wasting my personal time at work and having to endure another hot night made me a bit edgy. I asked when they could come out and was told our technician might be available on Wednesday morning. I asked them if anyone else could come to my house, and was told that they liked for the technician who first diagnosed the problem to complete the task. I told her that was good under some circumstances, but that I had been without air for almost a week and wanted anyone to come out as soon as possible to install the compressor. Heck, I almost offered to just do it myself. The operator told me that they would have to rearrange schedules, but could probably send someone first thing Tuesday morning. I stressed that I needed to know for certain, because I would have to take off work again. I got no affirmative. So, I decided to just get around early and call them myself before eight so I would know one way or another.

Meanwhile, Bart made it home Monday night and told me that he had spoken to our accountant. Monday was Tax Day. Guess what? Somehow things were overlooked, and our taxed were not filed. Never in my life had I ever experienced not having my taxes filed on time. Extensions were what unprepared people do. I asked Bart if we would have to pay a penalty. He told me no, since we were getting a return and not paying (I guess Garver taking way too much out of Bart's checks all last year was good for something after all).

The good news is that even though they never e-filed our taxes, their computer system automatically filed for an extension for us (Yipee). The bad news is that since we're filing late, it could be Octobuary of 3011 before we see our return. Sadly, we weren't terribly surprised, because our accountant has been terribly negligent for the past year or so.

Come Tuesday morning I called the AC repair company to make sure they were really coming this time. The dispatcher told me they were and would be there between eight and eight thirty, so I called in to work and waited some more. Around 8:45 the repairman (different from who came last Thursday) arrived and told me it would take 3 to 4 hours.

He started working on the unit outside and after a bit comes in to tell me that we didn't need a compressor after all. A capacitor that we had had replaced last year went out and was under warranty, so there would be no cost for that. However, the unit was not missing some sort of connector box.

Immediately my mind raced to that thing I found in the yard and gave to Bart. I called him, and he told me that he had thrown it away. Tuesday is our trash day. Thankfully Waste Management never gets to our house before at least 1:30 in the afternoon. I ran out to the curb and pulled the huge container holding our trash back into the garage. Then I pulled out a bag, ripped it open, and started digging. Thankfully I found the box in the first garbage bad and handed it to the repairman. He said we were low on coolant and asked if it was ok to top it off, giving me a price.

"It's less than the compressor, isn't it?" I asked.

"Uh, yes," he answered.

"Then, by all means do whatever needs to be done."

And then the air conditioner was finally fixed. I made it to work around 10:30, after stopping off at Bart's office to give him the paperwork so that he could complain about how the first technician was going to install a $1600 part that we didn't need, how long we had to wait, and how I had to miss work to wait for people who never showed.

He was on a roll, because he had already chewed out our accountant for his mistake and told him that he was about to lose our business. I went back to work and remembered that I needed to call about my dress, because the place was closed on Monday.

They told me the dress was in and that they had called me. I told them that I had not received any such call and would pick the dress up after work on Wednesday. They told me they closed at 5 on Wednesdays. I sighed and told them I would pick up the dress on Thursday, the day I had set aside to get that all-important hair trim - which brings us full-circle.

A day later, I can almost laugh at the events... almost. I'm hoping for calmer waters soon, but looking at our schedule, I don't really see that happening for a few more weeks.

Oh, and I 'm starting to have bridesmaid nightmares.

"SERENITY NOW!"

Aspen, a Retriever Hero

2011-04-19T10:25:00.000-07:00

As a native Oklahoman who was a mere freshman in high school sixteen years ago when the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building was bombed in Oklahoma City on April 19, 1995, my heart was broken. I was devastated that this could happen so close to my home, in my home state. Images of firefighters carrying bodies of children killed in the explosion will always haunt my memory.

Yet there were also images that gave me hope. One was this one, of Aspen, hold her handler, Skip Fernandez, up as he rests from the stressful exertion of search and rescue. I think that may be when I fell in love with the Golden Retriever breed.

This scene says so much about the bond between golden retrievers and their people. It's very hard to explain, because it's so intricate. There's devotion, respect, and love as well as drive and determination. We play "find the football" and hide and seek with the girls from time to time. They are relentless when they are looking for either us or the football. They just have so much drive to find what they're looking for. It is said that when a golden is searching for someone, and they can't find who they're looking for after a time, someone has to pretend to be "found" for them, or they'll almost kill themselves due to the stress. I readily believe it.

So, here's to you Aspen. I'm sure that by now you've crossed over to the Rainbow Bridge. You will not be forgotten for all you've done, especially by those you recovered over the years.

'Skip Fernandez and his golden retriever "Aspen" of Dade County, Florida were among more than forty-two FEMA man-dog teams. Observed one team member: "When my dog finds someone alive, he barks. When he finds a body, he whines... He's done alot more whining than barking."'

Love This

2011-04-19T05:04:00.001-07:00

It Loves Company

2011-04-14T17:39:00.000-07:00

Either around midnight or one last night, I left what was probably the most pathetic, miserable voicemail on Bart's phone. He's been in the Oklahoma City area since Monday, and last night it became very clear to me that our air conditioner is horribly broken. Of course this had to happen when Bart was out of town.

I got home around 6:30 last night from buying groceries and noticed that the house seemed uncommonly warm. I wondered if it was just that I had become accustomed to the prior, frigid weather of the previous season and payed little attention to it. I do know that our living room and kitchen are in the words of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, " a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening, in summer; the windows are full west.'' (Can't tell I've spent many hours watching /reading Jane Austen while Bart's been away, can you?) So, the heat in some ways did not entirely surprise me. What did was that once the sun had set, the heat continued to rise though the air conditioner ran without ceasing.

I complained about it to Bart during our phone call that evening but wondered if it would get better if we just changed the air filter. The girls and I went to bed around 10 last night, with a floor fan that I bought in college blowing on us as well as the ceiling fan and the unfortunate air conditioner.

Around midnight I awoke to an uneasy Lucy. I noticed the air conditioner was still running, but it was horribly hot. I turned off the air, turned off the alarm, because it was sure to go off once I opened the windows. I ran upstairs and opened a window in each of the spare rooms, made sure the ceiling fans were working and that the bathroom doors were open. Then I opened several windows in the kitchen and living room as well as one in our bedroom.

I am always loathe to sleep with the windows open. I know many people prefer to do it. I imagine I might like it better, if all four of us didn't suffer tremendously from allergies, and everything is in full bloom right now. The last time I remember sleeping with the windows open, we lived in Bryant. The electricity was always going off there. I swear the Little Rock metro has the worst electrical grid in all of Arkansas. Anyway, that time I awoke with swollen, crusted over eyes, a terrible headache, and a sore throat. Remembering that, I ran into the bathroom and took a precautionary Zyrtec. Then I tried to go back to sleep.

The girls were now awake and uneasy to say the least. They kept hassling me to take them potty. Unfortunately my next door neighbors chose yesterday to become Dish Network customers. To Lucy (and Dory in a show of solidarity) the two new dishes that were installed on their house can only be some sort of nefarious lasers that will surely cause injury to all of us, and the only way to defeat them is to bark loudly and incessantly at them - no matter the hour of the night. Because of this, it took several trips to the back yard for everyone to properly potty in between ejaculations of hatred at the evil satellite dishes.

When we finally tried to return to bed, Lucy kept thinking she heard things and had to bark at them. Dory often joined in. So, I decided to close us up in the bedroom to see if Lucy would calm. Nope. She just decided to paw constantly at the door. I realized that I wasn't going to sleep, and the predicted headache had started to split my head in two, so I let her out of the bedroom and made my pathetic phone call to Bart.

I was on the verge of tears. I was miserable beyond measure. I seriously considered putting the girls outside for the night, or at least just Lucy, but surely the police would be called on her barking at the evil satellite dishes. There was a no win situation.

At some point, we all passed out until my alarm clock sounded for me to get up and ready for the day. There was no way I was going to work today and made a probably incoherent call in sick. My head pounded, my eyes ached and wouldn't focus, and the whole lot of it caused my stomach to be upset. Besides, I had called our air conditioner service (so totally worth the monthly fee) and had to stay home to await the friendly repairman from Bud Anderson.

I showered quickly and spoke to Bart several times on the phone. He didn't hear the phone ring when I called him in the middle of the night, but he saw the message once he was awake. Then I waited in the living room, watching Jane Austen movies on the Apple TV all.day.long. while attempting to get a little sleep and allow my headache to subside.

Before three in the afternoon the repairman came. The compressor died. So, I was given two choices: spend $1500 on a compressor or several thousand on an entirely new unit. Bart and I conferenced on the phone and decided on the cheaper of the two for now. So we had a compressor ordered. Hopefully it will be in tomorrow, though I may have to take at least part of my personal day if it is, because Bart will need to be in his office.

That was my day, but wait... it's not over. It's April in Arklahoma, so now we're under threat of tornadoes. Bart is driving home in the middle of this. If Bart gets home safely, and we do not incur any damage, then the storm will be welcome, because they'll bring with them cooler weather. The good news is that this happened in April and not August. The girls and I would be in a hotel right now otherwise.

Closeted Luddite

2011-04-12T20:57:00.000-07:00

I've decided tonight that I need a new alarm clock. My old one works quite well still. It manages to wake me every weekday morning at 6:15 without fail, but I can hardly see the thing anymore. You see, some ten - thirteen years ago I bought this alarm clock when I was in college after a rather odd mishap where my extremely cumbersome textbook for my Shakespeare's Histories and Comedies class somehow smashed the one I had had since high school into millions of little Sony Dream Machine pieces. I replaced it with an awesome Timex Indiglo alarm clock that used that once awesome green back light to illuminate my clock.

At some juncture over the past decade plus, the indiglo back light has practically ceased to glo, and I can no longer read what the thing says at night. I find that very inconvenient, because I'm one of those people who wakes up at all hours of the night and always looks at her clock to see what the time is, despite the fact that I am very nearsighted.

So, tonight I started to somewhat look online for a new clock, and it occurred to me that people don't really use alarm clocks anymore. They certainly don't use good ole' AM/FM radio alarm clocks. ( I won't get into those annoying old mechanical clocks like my Granny had that would keep me awake with their perpetual ticking, ticking, ticking.) No no, people now rely on their phones to be their alarm clocks. It seems that today people rely upon their phones for darn near everything, and I don't know how well I like that.

Obviously I love gadgets and do-dads more than most people. I love thingamajigs that have multiple features. However, I suppose that I'm just enough of a Luddite that I still want some things to remain separate. like my alarm clock. I want a clock that is always visible to me when I'm in bed to tell me the time. I don't want to have to push a button on my phone, iPod, or iPad to see the time. I don't care if there are countless apps to wake me in different ways, I don't want to use them. The next thing you know, there will be apps for impregnating people so that we won't have to deal with that messy natural form of procreation that God gave us. Wait, wait, I do have apps that keep extremely detailed track of my cycles already, so in some ways there are apps for that.

I just want an alarm clock right now though, and my only main stipulation is that it have backup battery support so that things won't be changed if the power goes out for a bit. I have a feeling I'll be hard pressed to find one that won't turn cartwheels, or at the very least run away from me when I try to turn off the alarm.

I'm in a mood for quizzes...

2011-04-12T14:22:00.000-07:00

For lack of anything profound to post, I'll post some quiz results.

Five Love Languages
I took the Five Love Languages Assessment for Wives today just for a lark. I find the results rather interesting considering that which I apparently most respond to is what it seems I get so little of these days when Bart is working out of town every other week (like this week). Wait, that sounded resentful. I don't resent Bart's being out of town, but just find it interesting.

Love Language Scores:
5 Words of Affirmation
11 Quality Time
1 Receiving Gifts
4 Acts of Service
9 Physical Touch

Interpreting and Using Your Profile Score:
The highest score indicates your primary love language (the highest score is 12). It's not uncommon to have two high scores, although one language does have a slight edge for most people. That just means two languages are important to you. The lower scores indicate those languages you seldom use to communicate love and which probably don't affect you very much on an emotional level.

Quality Time
In the vernacular of Quality Time, nothing says,"I love you," like full, undivided attention. Being there for this type of person is critical, but really being there--with the TV off, fork and knife down, and all chores and tasks on standby--makes your significant other feel truly special and loved. Distractions, postponed dates, or the failure to listen can be especially hurtful.

Jung Typology Test

INTJ

Introverted	Intuitive	Thinking	Judging
Strength of the preferences %
56	12	38	33

INTJ type description by D.Keirsey
INTJ Identify Your Career with Jung Career Indicator™
INTJ type description by J. Butt and M.M. Heiss

Qualitative analysis of your type formula
You are:

moderately expressed introvert
slightly expressed intuitive personality
moderately expressed thinking personality
moderately expressed judging personality

Catching Up Yet Again

2011-04-11T12:50:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I did a lot and a lot of nothing at the same time. I know that sounds very contradictory, but that pretty much sums up my weekend.

Instead of doing my usual Friday night house-cleaning, I jumped at the chance to run up to Rogers with Bart to help him shop for a new suit. He only has one complete suit that we bought on clearance at a store that was going out of business in Little Rock, six years ago when we lived in the metro area. Due to how we bought that first suit, it isn't tailored. In fact we had his mom hem the pants. We did nothing to the jacket, but then we didn't know you had to do that back then.

Fast forward six years, and Bart's still wearing that charcoal suit whenever he needs to, and he looks very dashing in it too. However, he needs more than one suit and the suede sports jacket he often wears (I've spent years trying to explain to him that you don't wear suede in the warmer months). So, we went to Joseph A Banks in Rogers, where he bought the sports coat a couple of years ago, because they were having a $99 suit sale. Well, the $99 suits looked like $99 suits, and I gave a firm "no." Thankfully everything else there was 50% off, and we found a nice light brown suit his size that is being tailored right now. He also picked out a shirt and tie to go with it. I'll admit, there were other shirt/tie combination that I liked much more than what he picked out, but he did OK.

We enjoyed getting out alone together so much (it's becoming all too rare for us) that we discussed going to the Razorback / LSU baseball game on Saturday night. Usually we often have luck finding someone trying to sell a couple of tickets (we've discussed buying season tickets, but we never even know if Bart will be home for us to buy single-game tickets) and get a better seat than what we can buy at the box office. Thankfully, by Saturday afternoon, we decided not to try that, because Saturday night's game broke attendance records.

Saturday I got up somewhere between 8 and 8:30 in the morning. That's about as late as the girls will let me sleep. I got started early, going out to do my weekly poop scooping in the back yard, filling the bird feeder with seed, and playing a bit of ball with my girls.

Then Bart and I got stuck watching "The Presidents" on History. We both love that and "The States." However, I did not stay entirely idle while watching three hours of informative bits about the Presidents from Andrew Johnson to FDR. I picked up and dusted the living room, did a little laundry, and worked on the kitchen. It was such a nice day, and we were enjoying it so much, that we decided against going to the baseball game and instead just took the girls down the road to Lake Fayetteville to let them run and play before picking up some dinner and watching the baseball game on ESPNU.

We took the girls' volleyball with us to the park, which proved to be a great success. Unfortunately, we only have two seasons in Arkansas it seems, Freeze off your @$$ Winter and Sweat off your @$$ Summer. We're transitioning from the former to the latter, and the girls got hot very quickly. We took water and a bowl for them, but Dory kept looking longingly at the lake. She kept looking, and looking, and looking. Finally she grew tired of just looking and bolted down to the water, with Lucy right on her heals.

Nine times out of ten, their recall is great at the park (we still keep them on long leads because they're supposed to be leashed). Technically it was good then too. I was more upset because they were "dressed" in what equals to their "Sunday best," their pink pretty collars rather than their waterproof ones, and Dory was wearing her Easy Walk Harness too. They came back to us once they cooled off and were ready to play more. They even tackled Bart, sending him skidding face first across the grass (sadly no pictures of that). After playing a bit, they ran off for another, quicker dip, then Dory ran off once by herself, but came back without getting into the water, because Lucy was busy with Bart.

We decided there had been enough playing when suddenly Lucy stopped playing (which is weird, because she would play ball until she dropped dead if we let her) and became increasingly concerned with Dory. Dory had noticed, nor had we, that she bit her tongue and that it was bleeding, but Lucy did and worried over her baby sister. It was very sweet.

We got home just in time to watch the game. It was a very good, defensive game. It was scoreless until the ninth when LSU scored three runs. Then at the end of the ninth, we scored a run then a three-run homer to win.

I prepared clothes for us to wear to church Sunday and we went to sleep early enough, but when my alarm sounded Sunday morning, I was too far gone to get up. I didn't sleep any later than I had on Saturday, but I got out of bed at the time we should have been leaving the house for church. There are times when I seriously wish we lived closer to our church and that services started at the old-school time of 11am, not 915. So, we stayed home, save for a quick trip to the NWA Mall for a garment bag and some Flying Burrito for lunch.

I washed and folded laundry while we watched another Razorback baseball game on tv (sadly on CST not ESPNU HD this time), and Bart did a little work that he brought home from the office. Then we got Bart's clothes ready for the week, because he just now left for Oklahoma City and will be gone until Thursday night.

I'm thinking of renting some movies he hasn't wanted to watch this week. Tonight seems like a good night for "Me and Orson Wells."

The Face of Insanity.

Double Trouble

The first dip in the lake.

I just love these.

Dory returning from her almost-dip/

Lucy's worried about Dory's mouth.

Weekend This & That

2011-04-02T18:36:00.001-07:00

I should be folding clean laundry or sorting the dirty or doing something productive. However, I've been very productive today already, and I feel the need for just a smidgen of me time. Also, I don't wish to have my immaculate living room cluttered with luandry that either needs folding or put up when Bart gets home, which should be any time now.

I don't think the girls believe me when I tell them he's coming home tonight, but he is... finally. He's been in Seattle since Wednesday learning something. I should explain more, but what really matters is that he's coming home tonight. I've been a little to busy or tired this week to miss him too terribly, but it would be nice to have a conversation with someone who doesn't respond in roo's, grr's, licks, or whimpers.

Speaking of those who converse in roo's, it amazes me how they tend to calm down and relax whenever I play music over the Apple TV. If it stops, they'll get up and start doing something. If we start watching regular TV, Lucy will most likely find my lap. By the way, folding laundry with an almost eighty-pound lap-dog in your lap is not easy.

I just had a revelation of sorts: I am getting old. I am increasingly wanting to go to bed extremely early, and sleeping past eight in the morning is almost like torture. Actually for me it is torture, because Thing 1 and Thing 2 don't think I should sleep later than that... unless it's raining. Then everything's forgiven. Bart on the other hand, he's allowed to sleep as late as he darn well wants and often has company. There's a serious double-standard in our house.

Good grief, I'm falling asleep as I type this! I'm going to have to start typing posts for this blog days in advance like I do for the Rowdy Girls' blog. Of course then I wouldn't really be posting what's on my mind, would I?

Good Food, Good Friends, Bad Fishing

2011-03-28T13:48:00.000-07:00

This weekend was our annual Spring tout-fishing trip to Gaston's White River Resort near Lakeview, Arkansas. I think this may be the last time we go in March though, because two years in a row the weather has been little more than miserable. April or May is starting to sound much better to everyone I think, especially since out of the three guys (Bart, Brandon, and Bart's dad Lonnie) they only caught one guy's limit (5 trout in two days).

Thankfully Brandon and Erin brought what can only be described as a mess of crappie for us to eat Friday and Saturday nights. Bart and I now have a new favorite fish to eat. Due to someone's IBS, we eat various forms of fish more often than most other types of meat. We ate well all weekend, actually. Bart and I fixed pancakes and sausage links Saturday morning, and Sunday we had breakfast at the restaurant. It's good that the guys all ate well though, because they used a lot of energy out in the cold, not catching fish.

Since the fishing was horrible all the way around, Bart and I took the girls out for a swim in the river both Friday and Saturday. Last year (Dory's first year to go), the water was too high for anyone to get in the river. This year it was just cold. That's why the girls have neoprene vests though, and they loved it. Saturday Lucy got cold and started shaking, but was so fine she had the zoomies once we made it back up to the cabin.

To the girls, Gaston's is their equivalent to Disney World, I think. Lucy had a smile on her face from the moment we left the house until we got home yesterday. She hasn't smiled quite that much in ages. Dory remembered it too, and jumped up in a window seat to watch the river as soon as we got there. She cried when we loaded the truck to leave yesterday. She was tired from all her adventures though, and didn't even try to roll down her window once on the drive home.

For all or most of us, going there is a great chance to just get away for a few days. While there is cable TV and a form of Internet (Imagine my surprise Friday night when reading Cathy's Facebook posts about Early-Bird Anne) , we're still fairly cut-off from the day to day grind. It's nice to just get out and walk with a dog along the shores of the river. It's wonderful just talking with and laughing with good friends and family. Even though we were all exhausted Saturday night, I had a blast playing a makeshift Sliders/ Curling game that Bart brought with everyone.

Is it any surprise we're talking about going again around say... October? Hopefully the fish will be biting then. That would make it a perfect retreat.


Our cabin had two window seats. The girls always think they're the best seats in the cabin.

My Oompa Loompa of Science :)

Nothin' Bitin'

Lucy, waiting on Bart to throw a Wubba.

Dory waiting on Bart to throw a wubba while holding a wubba.

This is what Erin calls "Labitude!"

Dory can't wait for it to actually be thrown.

Here we go!

Double Tug!

It was pretty cold out there.

The look on her face in this picture reminds me of her Petfinder pic.

They liked to stay color coordinated with their wubbas.

Happiness is swimming in a river - no matter how cold.

The Art of the Shake

Bart's Plans For the Girls

2011-03-23T10:29:00.000-07:00

I've been buying trout lately at a local meat market, and the girls have been going nuts over it. I'm very happy no one has yet gone against her training and stolen some while it thawed out on the counter. Heaven knows they've both stolen enough tilapia over the years. Since they show so much interest in fish, especially trout, and since we're headed to the mountains for some trout fishing this weekend, Bart did a YouTube search for videos of dogs catching trout. This is what he found.

Needless to say, he's hoping that Lucy or Dory will be just as or more successful than this dog. I'm just wondering about the legality of a dog fishing for trout. I wonder what the limits are?

My Wandering Mind...

2011-03-22T18:56:00.000-07:00

Only one more work day this week - thank goodness. I'm very ready for our yearly pilgrimage to the White River this weekend. In fact, Bart and I have already discussed going again this fall even if no one else can or wants to go with us. Of course last year we discussed it too, but his work schedule just got too hectic.

It's funny. We don't really mind being unable to do things much in the winter or summer. We're neither one fans of extreme cold or heat. Now that things are blooming and getting pretty again, we're both ready to just be out some.

Spring is finally here, really not just according to the calendar. A year ago, we had a foot of snow on the first day of Spring, which really put a damper on our Gaston's trip. This year it's just gorgeous. You can literally smell Spring everywhere from grass being cut the first time, everything blooming, to even the smell of wild onions growing where they're not supposed to in yards.

Bart's coming home tonight - a day early. That should be an awesome surprise for the girls. They won't have to "talk" to him via Facetime tonight, though that was enjoyable last night. We'll all be glad to have him home. Just having him under the same roof is a comfort to all of us. The girls like having all of us together, and I like knowing that he's safe and well.

Speaking of being well, both girls got a dosage of Benadryl tonight. Lucy's eyes were swollen and red after playing outside this morning, and Dory's eyes have been gunky, and she's sneezed and coughed some. We can't have anyone getting sick before our trip. It's just an added benefit that they're out cold now. Although it was fun watching Lucy dance to the music playing on Apple TV with her duck a moment ago.

Oh, oh... Dory just lifted her head and glared at me. I must be typing too loudly.

Goodnight, Elizabeth, Erin, Jim-Bob, Mary Ellen, Ben, Jason, Grandma, Grandma, Momma, Daddy, and of course... John-Boy. :)