You know you've puked one too many times when your toddler does this...
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Cinnamon Roll Bubble Bites
3 months ago
Friday, August 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Baby's First Pictures
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"For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother's womb...My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. " Psalm 139:13, 15-16
Last Tuesday we were able to see our little Baby X for the first time. It's a squirmy little thing, much like it's big brother. Everything looks great with the baby and we're expecting another healthy pregnancy.
It just amazes me to see our precious little ones heart beating, and to make out it's little hands and feet. You might have a hard time making anything out of these pictures, but I see a perfect miracle...a beautiful life growing inside me, formed by the hands of our Creator.
Much like when I saw the first ultrasound pictures of Brady, I feel more than ever an overwhelming desire to nurture and care for this child. As I read the words of Psalm 139 I feel a great responsibility to raise our children to know and to believe that those words are true. I want them to understand that although there will never be anyone else on this earth who could love them as we do, they have a Creator who loves them even more. He loves them so much in fact that He not only created them, but that He has already written their story. He wrote it knowing before they ever came to be, exactly what they would need.
I need to remember that. I became a mom and all of a sudden I started this senseless worrying. I mean well. I believe that I worry out of love. But, I need to remember that whatever tomorrow holds, for our children, for us, that He loves us. I need to remember that I don't have to worry about tomorrow, because He has already written that page. All I have to do is read it and follow His will, His wise counsel, His plan.
So, stay tuned for more of the story. There will be many more posts and pictures from this precious chapter.
Last Tuesday we were able to see our little Baby X for the first time. It's a squirmy little thing, much like it's big brother. Everything looks great with the baby and we're expecting another healthy pregnancy.
It just amazes me to see our precious little ones heart beating, and to make out it's little hands and feet. You might have a hard time making anything out of these pictures, but I see a perfect miracle...a beautiful life growing inside me, formed by the hands of our Creator.
Much like when I saw the first ultrasound pictures of Brady, I feel more than ever an overwhelming desire to nurture and care for this child. As I read the words of Psalm 139 I feel a great responsibility to raise our children to know and to believe that those words are true. I want them to understand that although there will never be anyone else on this earth who could love them as we do, they have a Creator who loves them even more. He loves them so much in fact that He not only created them, but that He has already written their story. He wrote it knowing before they ever came to be, exactly what they would need.
I need to remember that. I became a mom and all of a sudden I started this senseless worrying. I mean well. I believe that I worry out of love. But, I need to remember that whatever tomorrow holds, for our children, for us, that He loves us. I need to remember that I don't have to worry about tomorrow, because He has already written that page. All I have to do is read it and follow His will, His wise counsel, His plan.
So, stay tuned for more of the story. There will be many more posts and pictures from this precious chapter.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Beautiful Baby--Inside and Out
So.......I've been meaning to do a post about Brady and all of the remarkable things he's doing and saying now that he's 18 months, but I've had such a hard time with this pregnancy since his 1/2 birthday, that I'm just now getting around to it.
He really is a remarkable little creature and a complete ball of fun! He's talking up a storm now and physically we can't keep up with the little monkey! He's NEVER still and true to his genetics, he hears a tune and those little buns go to dancing! Occasionally, he just feels the need to dance, so he'll go to the iPod dock, point and say, "Dan-Dan"!
Physically, he's changing so quickly. He's now 27 pounds, 28 on a good day, and 33 inches tall. The poor little guy is getting lots and lots of teeth too! When he first hit 18 months, he had only 6 teeth. In the last two weeks, he's cut 4 and it looks like a few more might be trying to make their way in. You'd think all that teething would make him mean and cranky, but not our little Brady. He's taking it like a champ! Without the use of drugs I should add... (Okay...he had a few days when he continuously pitched fits, but only a few!)
He's loves to be outdoors and around animals and quickly picks up the sounds they make. He knows the sounds of a bird, cow, dog, tiger and tank...yes I know it's not an animal, but the little ,"boom, boom!", he lets out is just precious! We are after all an Army family, so he might as well learn the sounds of gunnery early! (See attached video.)
His vocabulary is rapidly expanding. It seems almost daily that he begins repeating new words. He is VERY vocal. Especially for a little boy...I say that's what you get when you surround your child with a bunch of chatty women for the first 14 months of his life! Most of the time he just walks around chatting me up in his own little language.
The other day he stubbed his toe on one of his toys. When I called him over to me and ask what happened he proceeded to go on and on pointing at his toys and pleading his case. Of course I didn't understand one word, but it was the cutest thing!
A few words in his repertoire are...
*Da-Da
*Ba-Ba or Ma-Ma (Used interchangeably)
*Hi
*Bye-Bye (Used also as a substitute for Night-Night)
*Jee-Jus (Jesus)
*Juice
*Tees (Keys)
*Shoos (Shoes)
*Peace (Please)
*Tay-Tou (Thank You)
*Dan-Dan (Dance, Dance)
*Bears (Gummy Bears or Teddy Grahams or his favorite stuffed animal, Oatmeal Bear)
*Cheese (Goldfish Crackers or Cheese)
*Baby
*Fries
*Dis-Dut (Biscuit)
*Yes
*Pisa (Pizza)
*Bite
*Baff Time (Bath Time)
I know there are a few that I'm forgetting, but these are the ones he says most frequently and with little or no prompting.
And, perhaps my favorite thing of all...he's our little cuddle bug!! He loves to hug and give kisses and to curl up with us on the couch. He has the most loving little heart. Don't get me wrong...he's spirited, and there are moments when he certainly tries our patience, but at his core he has a beautiful soul. He's our beautiful baby inside and out.
**Forgive the pudding face and flying spit! I've tried for days to get him to make all of the sounds in one video, and this was the first time I was successful. Not willing to risk another crying fit because I wouldn't hand over the camera, I didn't dare try again!
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Littlest Prayers
As I was doing my devotions I came upon this verse..."And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests...". Eph. 6:18
Hmmm...It got me to thinking. ALL occasions and ALL kinds of prayers and requests. ALL? Really?
So it wasn't silly a few weeks ago in the PX to ask God help me to choose the most accurate pregnancy test? Or to have asked him today to give me patience to get through the first, second, third and even fourth temper tantrum and to help me react only in love and not frustration or anger? Or to ask him to help me feel just a little less queasy so that I can get off the couch and better care for Brady? God actually not only listens to those littlest of prayers, he wants me to pray them???
Yes. He does. He wants to hear them. He listens to them. He answers them.
Somehow, I had this silly notion in my head that I had only a pre-recorded number of prayers and requests. As if once I got to a certain number God would go deaf and no longer listen to me?! I'd better prioritize and only send up the "big" ones!
I was limiting God. I was placing boundaries on a God who has no bounds! He didn't ask me to. He never told me I only had a certain number of prayers he'd hear.
God wants us to come to him not only with lifes big problems, but with everything...even the littlest prayers. Our prayer life should be a constant conversation. We should be speaking to Him all day long, as we present Him with ALL our prayers and requests.
Now I just have to remember that a conversation goes both ways...I have to stop and listen. I have to be willing to receive what He has to say as well...
Hmmm...It got me to thinking. ALL occasions and ALL kinds of prayers and requests. ALL? Really?
So it wasn't silly a few weeks ago in the PX to ask God help me to choose the most accurate pregnancy test? Or to have asked him today to give me patience to get through the first, second, third and even fourth temper tantrum and to help me react only in love and not frustration or anger? Or to ask him to help me feel just a little less queasy so that I can get off the couch and better care for Brady? God actually not only listens to those littlest of prayers, he wants me to pray them???
Yes. He does. He wants to hear them. He listens to them. He answers them.
Somehow, I had this silly notion in my head that I had only a pre-recorded number of prayers and requests. As if once I got to a certain number God would go deaf and no longer listen to me?! I'd better prioritize and only send up the "big" ones!
I was limiting God. I was placing boundaries on a God who has no bounds! He didn't ask me to. He never told me I only had a certain number of prayers he'd hear.
God wants us to come to him not only with lifes big problems, but with everything...even the littlest prayers. Our prayer life should be a constant conversation. We should be speaking to Him all day long, as we present Him with ALL our prayers and requests.
Now I just have to remember that a conversation goes both ways...I have to stop and listen. I have to be willing to receive what He has to say as well...
Thursday, July 9, 2009
1-35 Ball
One of my favorite things about being in the Army is getting all dressed up for the balls and formals. It's like prom, only with out the awkwardness, and it's legal to celebrate with a few glasses of wine, or beer, or whatever else you might like (unless your pregnant, of course!). When the guys aren't deployed we usually have two a year or, one, big, fun one to celebrate the end of a deployment! Tuesday night we had our 1-35 AR, end of deployment, celebration ball!
Buck and I got all dressed up, a sitter came over to keep Brady, and off we went to the Rheinlander for a few adult only hours.
One special part of the evening was when Buck was inducted into the Order of St. George. The Order of St. George is an award given to "honor the very best of America’s tankers and troopers". It's an award that's not given out too often. I've only known two guys in the five years we've been married who had one.
Oh...and I can't forget the grog!! For those of you who don't know, grog is the most disgusting concoction of alcohol that I've ever smelled (and only been brave enough to taste once!). I've seen grogs containing wines, beers, hard liquors, sand and dirty socks! It's a punchbowl ceremony of sorts where different guys come up and read off whatever this particular bottle of liquor represents, i.e. Jagermeister represented the battalion being in Germany, then they have to take a generous swig, and pour the remainder of the bottle into the punchbowl. Anyway...Buck had a part in the grog ceremony and lucky for him he only had to pour in a bottle of wine!
We had a great time, enjoyed great food and great company, but at the end of the night I was ready to come home to see my baby boy, who was sound asleep. :(
Our babysitter, Hannah, took these pictures for us...
Buck and I got all dressed up, a sitter came over to keep Brady, and off we went to the Rheinlander for a few adult only hours.
One special part of the evening was when Buck was inducted into the Order of St. George. The Order of St. George is an award given to "honor the very best of America’s tankers and troopers". It's an award that's not given out too often. I've only known two guys in the five years we've been married who had one.
Oh...and I can't forget the grog!! For those of you who don't know, grog is the most disgusting concoction of alcohol that I've ever smelled (and only been brave enough to taste once!). I've seen grogs containing wines, beers, hard liquors, sand and dirty socks! It's a punchbowl ceremony of sorts where different guys come up and read off whatever this particular bottle of liquor represents, i.e. Jagermeister represented the battalion being in Germany, then they have to take a generous swig, and pour the remainder of the bottle into the punchbowl. Anyway...Buck had a part in the grog ceremony and lucky for him he only had to pour in a bottle of wine!
We had a great time, enjoyed great food and great company, but at the end of the night I was ready to come home to see my baby boy, who was sound asleep. :(
Our babysitter, Hannah, took these pictures for us...
After a few pictures were snapped, Brady wanted in on the action...
The grog ceremony...
Buck being inducted into the Order of St. George by LTC Morales...
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
In Honor of the Fallen
Okay...I just might ruffle some feathers here, but after leaving Landstuhl Regional Medical Center today and witnessing what I witnessed, I just have to get it off my chest.
Today was not the first time. Every, single, time, that I've had an appointment at Landstuhl, to include the appointments I had when I was pregnant with Brady and all of the trips after he was born, as I have been entering or exiting the hospital, multiple buses and vans are parked at the emergency entrance, which is also one of the main entrances to the hospital. Waiting for those buses and vans are more medical personal than I have ever been able to count. Okay? So there's some buses and vans and lots of people? What's the big deal? The big deal is what's being unloaded from those buses and vans and what's waiting to be unloaded, or who's waiting rather.
Inside lay the wounded, mangled bodies of the bravest men and women I have ever seen. Men and women who just arrived in Germany from Iraq and Afghanistan to fight in yet another fight...the fight of their lives. Men and women who are facing the most difficult, challenging, darkest days of their short lives because they have lost their ability to walk, or hold their new born baby, because they no longer have legs or arms. Men and women who will never again see the light of day or hear their wife whisper in their ear because they have lost their sight or ability to hear because of the concussion from an IED that detonated next to their vehicle. Men and women who are fighting for their lives and who might not live through the night. Men and women, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers...
I believe that you should give credit when credit is due. Michael Jackson was arguably the greatest artist of all time, yes. I myself have danced and sang along to many, many of his hits. I LOVED watching him perform. He was THE master of his craft. I'll give him that. But, really?
People could purchase tickets to his memorial service?! All I've seen on the news since he died was coverage of his death, tributes to him and now this memorial circus. Enough is enough. I'm sorry, I didn't realize that the world has stopped turning! Why is Jackson's death, as unfortunate and untimely as it was, taking precedence over more important news. Why is this guy, who's never done anything to serve his country, or the "fans" who have followed him religiously for years, or anything or anyone other than himself the only piece deserving of coverage on the evening news?!?!
What about the 5,021 men and women who have died for your freedom, your life, liberty and your pursuit of happiness? Those men and women died not because they overdosed on pills they had to take because they couldn't cope with life, but because they VOLUNTEERED, to put themselves in harms way so you and I could continue to live life as we know and love it. And who could blame them if they did need pills to cope. How do you suppose that Michael Jackson would do if he had to spend days, months and years of his life away from his family, in a tent, or sleeping on the top of his car, or on the side of the road, in 150 degree weather with no air conditioner, and the sound of bullets flying by his ear or the crack of mortar rounds as the sounds of his alarm clock, watching his buddies that he's bled with, sweat with, laughed with and who have become his brothers, scream in pain as they've lost their legs, or arms, or held them in his arms as they took their last breath. My guess is that he, along with all those other "celebrities" we worship, wouldn't last a week.
No, those men and women that I saw being unloaded from those buses today were suffering so that freedom seeking people all over this globe could have a better way of life. So that Michael Jackson could stand on a stage, and wow the world. So that he could earn millions upon millions of dollars, live in the lap of luxury and then piss off all that God was gracious enough to bless him with. They were there today so that his fans could sit at one of his concerts and scream out their undying love for him and worship him even in death.
But, for them, there are no hysterical, screaming fans to greet them. No pomp and circumstance, no "friends" reading pre-written, carefully planned speeches, no songs being sung, no grand stage upon which their broken bodies were wheeled. For them, there are just men and women, who like them, have volunteered to serve a cause far greater than self. And thank God for those angels of mercy, who's hands will mend those broken bodies and lives back together. Thank God for those men and women who have sacrificed their bodies, their lives, so that we can continue to sit comfortably on our couch and mourn Michael Jackson. Men and women, who have accomplished more in their short years than Michael Jackson could have in 1,000 years.
Men and women like SPC Robert Ehney, PFC Scott Messer, CPT Andy Houghton, 1LT Leif Knott, 1LT Laura Walker, MAJ Brian Mescall and SSG Matthew Taylor just to name a few, who are the best of our great nation.
Today was not the first time. Every, single, time, that I've had an appointment at Landstuhl, to include the appointments I had when I was pregnant with Brady and all of the trips after he was born, as I have been entering or exiting the hospital, multiple buses and vans are parked at the emergency entrance, which is also one of the main entrances to the hospital. Waiting for those buses and vans are more medical personal than I have ever been able to count. Okay? So there's some buses and vans and lots of people? What's the big deal? The big deal is what's being unloaded from those buses and vans and what's waiting to be unloaded, or who's waiting rather.
Inside lay the wounded, mangled bodies of the bravest men and women I have ever seen. Men and women who just arrived in Germany from Iraq and Afghanistan to fight in yet another fight...the fight of their lives. Men and women who are facing the most difficult, challenging, darkest days of their short lives because they have lost their ability to walk, or hold their new born baby, because they no longer have legs or arms. Men and women who will never again see the light of day or hear their wife whisper in their ear because they have lost their sight or ability to hear because of the concussion from an IED that detonated next to their vehicle. Men and women who are fighting for their lives and who might not live through the night. Men and women, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers...
I believe that you should give credit when credit is due. Michael Jackson was arguably the greatest artist of all time, yes. I myself have danced and sang along to many, many of his hits. I LOVED watching him perform. He was THE master of his craft. I'll give him that. But, really?
People could purchase tickets to his memorial service?! All I've seen on the news since he died was coverage of his death, tributes to him and now this memorial circus. Enough is enough. I'm sorry, I didn't realize that the world has stopped turning! Why is Jackson's death, as unfortunate and untimely as it was, taking precedence over more important news. Why is this guy, who's never done anything to serve his country, or the "fans" who have followed him religiously for years, or anything or anyone other than himself the only piece deserving of coverage on the evening news?!?!
What about the 5,021 men and women who have died for your freedom, your life, liberty and your pursuit of happiness? Those men and women died not because they overdosed on pills they had to take because they couldn't cope with life, but because they VOLUNTEERED, to put themselves in harms way so you and I could continue to live life as we know and love it. And who could blame them if they did need pills to cope. How do you suppose that Michael Jackson would do if he had to spend days, months and years of his life away from his family, in a tent, or sleeping on the top of his car, or on the side of the road, in 150 degree weather with no air conditioner, and the sound of bullets flying by his ear or the crack of mortar rounds as the sounds of his alarm clock, watching his buddies that he's bled with, sweat with, laughed with and who have become his brothers, scream in pain as they've lost their legs, or arms, or held them in his arms as they took their last breath. My guess is that he, along with all those other "celebrities" we worship, wouldn't last a week.
No, those men and women that I saw being unloaded from those buses today were suffering so that freedom seeking people all over this globe could have a better way of life. So that Michael Jackson could stand on a stage, and wow the world. So that he could earn millions upon millions of dollars, live in the lap of luxury and then piss off all that God was gracious enough to bless him with. They were there today so that his fans could sit at one of his concerts and scream out their undying love for him and worship him even in death.
But, for them, there are no hysterical, screaming fans to greet them. No pomp and circumstance, no "friends" reading pre-written, carefully planned speeches, no songs being sung, no grand stage upon which their broken bodies were wheeled. For them, there are just men and women, who like them, have volunteered to serve a cause far greater than self. And thank God for those angels of mercy, who's hands will mend those broken bodies and lives back together. Thank God for those men and women who have sacrificed their bodies, their lives, so that we can continue to sit comfortably on our couch and mourn Michael Jackson. Men and women, who have accomplished more in their short years than Michael Jackson could have in 1,000 years.
Men and women like SPC Robert Ehney, PFC Scott Messer, CPT Andy Houghton, 1LT Leif Knott, 1LT Laura Walker, MAJ Brian Mescall and SSG Matthew Taylor just to name a few, who are the best of our great nation.
A Soldier's Prayer
God our Father,
Help me to remain true to my ideals during my service to my country.
Help me be what is in America, the land of the free.
May I realize that I represent what our country stands for.
My uniform is a symbol of duty and valor both in peace and in war.
I take up arms to defend what all Americans hold dear:life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Grant me the strength to live according to these ideals, the courage of my convictions, and the resolve to endure whatever dangers threaten.
With you at our side I fear no evil and resist every enemy, secure in the knowledge that you hold me in the palm of your hand.
Amen.
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