when poop hits the floor.

Life here in Mississippi has provided me with new experiences. Some pertaining to the area in which I live, some just general life experiences.

For instance, I have never lived in a place where I pass my home. Multiple times. Not just the first time we were looking for our new home. See, we live outside of the "big city" which is really only the size of about 25,000. We're pretty much in the country. And if you don't believe me, let me just mention the fact that we live across the street from a gas station/convenience store called "The Ole Country Store." No joke. As for this whole missing my house thing….I am thankful to have a few landmarks by which to find my house. I know that when I pass the "Hose 'R' Down" car wash to start looking for my house. I know that if I get to "The Ole Country Store" I have just passed my house. But most people on this highway do not have this luxury. It is by the grace of God that WE do – yes. He knows I need His Grace. Thank God for "The Ole Country Store", because we have already received a few phone calls from them, because delivery trucks looking for our home are lost and can't find our house. Little do they know just how close they really are. If it weren't for these beacons, I would seriously be still wandering around in the dark looking for my home. (Note: I am pretty sure that my pilot husband would pretty proud of me for using this term.)

Now in the beginning I mentioned that life here in Mississippi has given me new experiences. I will tell you about the new "situations" that have since surfaced upon moving here. Ben. Yes, my son. Oh, yes, I have had him in my arms now for just about 20 months, and I have had him in my womb for roughly nine months. So you would think that I would be pretty familiar with that little kid running around the house. Apparently…not so much. This little guy, who really is pretty little for his age, has managed to escape his crib. This is probably one of the biggest shocks since the beginning of motherhood. It has always been a fear that has rotted a small part of my brain, but something I never really thought would happen – at least not any time soon. Especially since he's tinier than other kids. It all started after almost the first week of living here. His sleeping had been erratic. Sometimes he slept well and other nights he was up literally almost as much as a newborn. Mostly I just attributed it to growing pains that we all are blessed to not remember and being in a new home and environment. The first night his crib-climbing trek began, it was one of those bad nights. He had been up frequently and every time I held him to go back to sleep, he would awake as soon as I laid him down. Every parent knows this: it's like they're fake sleeping, just waiting to fool you. So I finally gave up going in there and holding him and decided he was going to need to work it out on his own. Rob couldn't sleep from the crying (Ben's, not mine), so he went in to the living room and watched the TV on mute just waiting out the minutes until Ben fell back asleep. Instead, however, Rob hears a thump and then he hears that the crying has become louder – right outside Ben's door. He opens the door and 'lo and behold' there is Ben standing at the door (NOT in his crib) – crying. So now we have converted the crib into the toddler bed, and this has been quite a heart breaking experience. Both selfishly and unselfishly. Selfishly, I feel like I have been robbed of my evenings with Rob and myself, while Ben is sleeping soundly. Now that Ben knows he can get out of bed whenever he feels like it, he doesn't ever want to go to sleep. Unselfishly, now that Ben doesn't want to go to sleep, he cries so hard that he's throwing up. That is hard to watch. While I don't want a spoiled child, I also don't want him making himself sick to the point of what's happening now.

The second new experience for Ben is toilet training. We're not really going at it aggressively – but more progressively. We have purchased a training toilet, a "Potty Time with Elmo" book that has different sounds attributed to the "throne", and we have made a potty chart that Ben can place stickers on when he does the deed. No, not that deed. So far he has done great. The second day of owning this lovely little dwelling place, he put a small marble-sized no. 2 in the potty. That was extremely exciting. I have always enjoyed talking about poop, but my level of excitement from this small little poop has brought it to a whole new level! (Note: If you don't quite believe just how much I love talking about poop, refer to my blog titled "It's all over when someone poops in the pool!" He has also done 4 or 5 no. 1s in it as well. Dum-Dum lollipops have done a terrific job as a source of motivation. My son at this very moment is enjoying an apple flavored Dum-Dum – which is the result of a small piece of poop in the toilet – and unfortunately a larger one on the floor right next to it. So while we're never "there" yet in life, I do see the remote sightings of that tracking beacon!
He is a smart little boy – having proved to be a little too smart for his own age. I keep telling Rob that I feel like he is advancing too fast for me to keep up. I need to regroup and think up some new tactics. I have always believed that God doesn't keep us comfortable and complacent for too long, and lately that truth has reared itself! I was even getting excited about the prospect of getting pregnant again. But lately it seems that every time I get close to that, Ben goes and throws my world on a slight tilt and scares me back in to my corner! I know that this is only the beginning of parenthood and that I have not even experienced a fraction of what my parents, my in-laws, their parents have endured over the years.

Whether parents or not, life is always about changing and riding those waves. It is always about finding your way home in the dark. Lately, for me it has been a both figurative and literal term. But, I am thankful for the beacons that remind me that God is there to help me through those dark times. I know that I will find my way home if I just keep looking for the "Hose 'R' Down" and "The Ole Country Store". I know that the dark times are the most important times for growth, perseverance, and just knowing that you will see yourself in brighter days. And in those brighter days, you will be genuinely thankful for the darker ones. I keep telling myself that if I can just know that, then maybe I can be thankful at that very moment when darkness is the only thing around me. To me, being wise enough to just know that at that dark moment is true growth.



oh - yes i did.

the truth amidst darkness.

I am not going to complain. My life so far has been relatively easy. Relatively. I had a sharpened sense of its relativity this week as word of an F-16 crash in Baghdad appeared in the news.
I am not going to complain. My life as a military wife has been great. There are days when I do realize the everyday sacrifice that my husband makes being in the USAF. But, in reality, most days it's just not that scary. While I consider it a blessing that Rob has never deployed for months on end, it is a mixed feeling sort of thing. Am I thankful and grateful that he's never deployed to a warzone? Yes. At the same time, I know that there are pangs felt that he hasn't. Not because he wants to be in war, but in a sense, it provides validation and accreditation for the things he has been training for for several years. Imagine going to college for ever and never doing what it is you're learning. OK, well some people do, but you know what I mean, right?

My life has also been easy because for the next three years or so, I know that my husband will not be deployed because of the capacity in which he will be working. He's going to be a pilot instructor, teaching students how to do what he's already done. This puts us in a position of ease, because it's unlikely he'll have to deploy.

I'm blessed. And today, I am recognizing it.

Before we moved here from Clovis, NM my husband was part of the 524th FS at Cannon AFB. It was shortly after we moved that his squadron was deployed to Iraq. Had we been in NM longer, he would have deployed.

Monday morning, Rob calls me from work and tells me that an F-16 went down in Baghdad. While there is a lot of military presence in the desert right now, the community, especially the F-16 community remains small. Well, how many squadrons are there, I ask. He tells me there are two squadrons that fly the block (model) that he flew. Shortly after that phone call, he called back saying that it was a Cannon jet (the squadron he was a part of), but not a Cannon pilot. Talking with a few of my friends back in NM whose husbands are still deployed I have heard the common comment, "I can't imagine never receiving the call from your husband telling you he's OK."

And there is that wife. And there are those five children. Those five children under the age of 8. It hasn't made me cry until just now when I typed those words. I have always believed in the power in the spoken word. Verbally expressing truth has always kept me honest. And in keeping me honest it has kept me humble.
I know that God will take care of that wife and mother and those kids. I know that God gives those people a way to make it. The most beautiful part is that God will use her in ways she can't even imagine at this point. He will use her in inexplicable and indescribable ways to further His Kingdom. I used to think that that was fluff speak, that it was what people said, pastors said, to make themselves feel like it would be OK. But life has shown that "fluff" to be true. I have seen it, and I know that God will carry this daughter of God to be the best she can be for the sake of her children.

Please continue to pray for this family.

domestic boredom.

A few weeks ago, when my mom was still in town visiting….we received a phone call from Nielson Ratings. I answered the phone and they assured me that they were not trying to sell me anything, etc. You know – the usual plea to keep you on the phone. He told me that it was not a sales call and that I "could shape TV and entertainment". Wow. Now I must tell you something about myself. I don't work, but if I did I would want people to treat me and my job respectfully. So, while I have NO tolerance for telemarketers, sales calls, fundraisers (let's be honest, the only fundraisers a person is inclined to give to is one that is at the person's hearts and interests – not some random police officer or firefighter who wants you to give money), I gave him a fair fighting chance to not waste my time. After all, he promised me that he wasn't selling anything and that it would take no longer than five minutes. I told him that it better not, because I was feeding my son dinner and making dinner at the moment. So he continues on, confirming that I am, indeed, old enough for his survey and that yes, I do watch TV. Ha. Do I ever. More TV than I ever did in high school, college, post college/pre-married times….and now I watch kids' programming to go with it. While I am answering his questions, my mom and husband keep looking at me quizzically and shaking their heads at me – communicating the ridiculous fact that I am still entertaining this "call." I begin carrying on conversation with my immediate family members while I am still on the phone – defending myself and the man on the phone that this is ONLY a survey and that "no, he is not selling me anything." I apologize and tell the man to continue on with his litany of questions. He finishes with his questions, confirms my mailing address because he is going to send me a TV SURVEY – that I get to keep for a week and note every single thing I watch on television….ha! It is only later that I am finding out how embarrassing and self-revealing this can be. He is getting toward the end of his speech, and adds at end, "And as a reward for agreeing to our survey, we will send you $15 for your time and patience." Because I'm feeling annoyed and feisty that my mom and husband are thinking I'm crazy for appeasing the man on the phone, I reply, "Ha! I just made $15!! You can't talk now, I am a breadwinner too!" The guy on the phone is laughing at this point, and says, "Thank you Mrs. Brooks for your time and for being a sweetheart. We'll be mailing that survey to you. Have a wonderful night." I hang up the phone and say, "See? I'm a sweetheart." My husband decides to be funny by replying, "There is a name for people who are paid money to be called 'sweetheart'." Whatever.

As this week draws to a close, and I am on my last day of jotting down what it is that we all watch on TV. It's funny how self-conscious it can make you. Most mornings we watch Sesame Street and Handy Manny on TV. I know that I am not a parent that relies too much on TV for my child, and so thankfully, there is a box you can check if the TV is on and no one is watching. But, now I am realizing how much the TV is on and no one is watching – it's on right now, and I am not even in the living room. Then there's the self-consciousness of Rob. He says the other night, "Great. Now they know that I'm whipped, because 'Friends' was on for 15 minutes and then mid-show it got changed to 'The Bachelor'." he he. J I am proud to say that I do not and will not ever be a soap opera junkie. Whether or not that is a trade-off or justification for the fact that I watch "The Bachelor", I don't know. Then there were times where neither of us wanted to turn the TV on because we were too lazy to write it down! We'd see the other one turn the TV on and one of us would say, "Did you write it in?" trying to catch the other. Let me draw this pointless story to a close. It was mildly amusing, not too painless, and with $15 in my pocket, you can now say you know someone who has participated in the Nielson TV Ratings. I always wondered who those people were. Even my mother-in-law said the same thing. Well, rest assured, those people exist. And they are probably all stay at home moms who are sweethearts! J

newbie. probie. amateur.

So the half marathon has been had by me. A bit anticlimactic at this point – as I am sure you can imagine. It was something that I really needed to do and did and now I feel so good about it. My main reason for this was I had already really enjoyed running and I wanted to accomplish something for myself that I loved - you know – before it is time for Baby No. 2. However, after the drive home from Waco to San Antonio, I am reconsidering it, since Ben was and is still being a handful from too much activity and not enough rest. (At the moment he is still awake in his crib and fighting sleep even though he's tired.)

I titled this installment "newbie.probie.amateur." mostly because that sums up my first experience of running and also my first introduction to the world of runners. It is a strange cult and I certainly learned a couple interesting things. For instance – the petroleum jelly that they supply is for the insides of your legs to prevent chafing – not your hands or lips. I only found this out by asking the person in front of me if that was for your hands….she laughed and told me what it was really for. My slight embarrassment could have been spared, if they just put a sign saying "hey newbie, this stuff is to prevent leg chafing – unless you're skinny Barbie girl and your legs don't rub together" I had to stand in two lines…one was the chip line – not the edible kind. The second line to get my chip verified. Then you attach the chip to your shoe laces. I thought it would be cool to have that as a souvenoir of my race, but they take that back at the end, too. It's really a neat little system, because there are these mats that you have at the start and finish of the race. Once you step on them your time begins and once you step on them at the end your time stops. So make sure you step on those mats, to get credit for your accomplishment. It's quite accurate, too, because when there are a ton of people, it won't start your time until you cross the starting mat. I also learned that marathons are a lot like trick or treating, except you don't have to work for it. Every mile or so people are holding out drinks and bananas and lemons and oranges – and even candy! I carried two Tootsie Rolls given to me at one of the stations. Another similarity is that there are some interesting trick-or-treaters. All sorts of getups. Some people have utility belts fully loaded with water bottles, energy gels, and all sorts of stuff! I even saw a man and woman with matching hats with horse heads on them. Then you have people who want to match each other and wear the same shirt emblazoned with their group name on them. It's really quite a sight. I suppose we all want to make a statement at times. What that statement is, however, sometimes uncertain….

The run was a lot of fun. There were a couple downers during the run. The race was an "out and back", so at one point when I am still on the "out" part, I start to see people running toward me down this huge hill and then eventually past me. "What?!" They have already reached the turnaround?! So, I'm like, "OK be positive, so they are already on their way back. It must be up here somewhere soon." Um, not unless you think a mile and a half is soon! The second bad part of the whole race was the last two miles….about 5 people had passed me over the course of a couple miles, and then these 3 girls pass me with fraternity and sorority shirts! I was yelling in my head, "Yeah?! Well, I squeezed out a baby! All you have to worry about it keeping off freshmen fifteen or something like that. The only thing hard about this race is that you couldn't drink the night before!!! So there!" Then comes, "OK Jenny, don't be bitter. In fact, you were once there in college, and definitely NOT running and doing races for good causes, so you have no reason to talk!" When you're running and there is nothing else to do it's amazing how vivid your thoughts become.
When I had about ½ mile to go, I saw Rob up the distance, and he ran the remainder of the race with me. What a good guy, huh? He even ran out of the way before I hit the finish line. He wasn't going to take that away from me, he said. I finished pretty close to my expectations at a time of 2:00:11 – which was a 9:11 pace. I am very happy about that – it wasn't freakishly exceptional, but it wasn't turtle-slow either! After competing and walking around the zoo afterward for the sake of my brother-in-law Matthew and my son, Ben….I am DONE for a few days! Thankfully, all those rich people and businesses who want to advertise their support donated all those park benches to the zoo. I don't know what I would have done then, because I utilized pretty much every bench as we toured the zoo!
You can imagine WHO took this picture - my husband....me pretending trying to stretch right, cuz that lady up on the platform keeps trying to get us all to stretch!
















The amazing CHIP.


The START.


3 miles in - passing by the starting point.


My super husband running the last 1/2 mile with me....about 15 minutes after the mean thoughts about the sorority girls passing me.


The FINISH.


Ben and me enjoying sno-cones.


The Results.


Check me out.

marathongs.

OK - sometimes I fear that I will run out of things to talk about. Does this make me uninteresting? Aw well...what are ya gonna do. I guess that's why meeting new people is an important and good thing. If any one person was interesting enough - we wouldn't need other people and MySpace would definitely not exist. I met an interesting person yesterday the "old fashioned" way - not on MySpace. This leads me to write about it, in turn forcing myself to confess something.
I run. Yep. Sure do. My feet are uglier than before. I have two bruised toes. The middle ones – they're twins. Ben points at them and says "ow". I have removed some monster calluses. I'm pretty sure my boobs are smaller after nursing a child, and running so much. Thank goodness for Victoria's Secret bras. But, hey, I got some pretty tight abs out of it. And I am pretty sure that I could outrun any rapist or serial killer if they tried to chase me in our gated apartment complex.
I met someone Sunday night that also runs. She is very cool. This mom of 2 teens has run FIVE (count 'em) FIVE marathons. (ha - I almost typed marathongs!) The funny thing is that she looked like a runner, and I wanted to ask her if she ran. Having just met her, I didn't want to sound weird, and what did I know about running? But now, after having an intuition that she was a runner, I feel I have achieved a higher Mecca in the running world! Add that to my long list of aches and pains, ugly feet and bruised toes!
I will tell you more about her when I get done talking about myself....how selfish does that sound? Gonna do it anyway. About a month ago - I signed up to do a half marathon. I have been so scared to tell anyone for fear of me failing at it and everyone asking me about it, and then me telling them that I failed. Pretty bad, huh? I have kept it a dirty secret - the only reason I told my mom was because Rob started telling me to tell her. That's how afraid I was. So here I am - signed up. The sad part is that I had been thinking about running and marathons nonstop. I found myself thinking about them randomly, then I found reasons to think about them more. So and so on TV is running one. Lance Armstrong is running one. I found out my friend signed up for one, and I got jealous! Jealous. The whole reason I was jealous, was because here was a person who decided to do a half "Mary" as the pros seem to call it on what seemed like a whim, and I, who had been running for quite some time, was TOO CHICKEN to make a choice. Instead, I would play wishy-washy ol' Jenny and drive my husband crazy because I was all talk and no action. Yeah, guys don't like that. Pretty bad, huh? I quickly squashed that jealousy for the simple reasons that I shouldn't be jealous of a person that decides to do something GREAT! So I threw my check in the mail, and Rob found us a hotel since it is up in Waco, TX.
Meeting this person proved to be a good thing. She inspired a renewed confidence in myself and meeting someone who has run multiple marathons – not to mention the Boston Marathon – which after meeting her learned that it is, like, the crème de la crème of marathons. You have to actually "qualify" to be able to run it. You can't just be Joe Runner and go and participate. The half marathon is on October 29th at 7:30 a.m. I am also happy that it just happens to be daylight savings time. Extra hour. Yeah. It is called the Miracle Match Marathon – and it is a fundraiser for bone marrow donors here in the state of Texas. Please pray for me on this day!

double whammy - two birds one stone - whatever.

Yes, the category 'pets and animals' will do. My subject title seeks to accomplish a couple of things...I call it 'double whammy' because this is my 2nd blog in a day, and 'two birds one stone' is what seems to have happened today - except that it was my car and not a stone. I did not hit two birds - it was only one bird - and 'hit' isn't the word I'd used, but more like ran over.
As if I wasn't already saddened and left with a lump in my throat after I heard and felt the thump under the car's tires, I was even more upset to find out that it is two types of birds that I hit. Read below this statement I pulled off a doves website (who creates these sites, BTW?!):
Question: What is the difference between pigeons and doves?
why you might ask - cuz I hit one today! ran over, whatever.
Pigeons are biologically part of the dove family and are actually descendents of the ancient Rock Dove. The dove is smaller than the pigeon and does not have the ability nor instinct to fly home. (or in my case, the instinct to get out of the way.)
Now the reason I chose to google this was because I felt bad. But then I have always wondered what the difference between the dove and pigeon is. I especially wanted to find this out today, to maybe make myself feel better about ending a life today. The bad news: the pigeon is part of the dove family. This made me feel more awful, because you always think of the dove as being a peaceful, innocent creature. It was a promise from God to Noah that there would never again be a flood like the one he endured. Doves get released at weddings. OK - so those are the only two I can come up with. If you have any more examples, I would love to hear them. But here's the good news for me: the pigeon is the dumber of the species - so I don't feel as bad. (Read above factoid) And if they are the dumber of the species, than chances are they are overpopulated. Doesn't it always seem like there are more dumb people in the world than smart? Overpopulated. You get what I mean.
Geez - I am trying to make myself feel good, and all I am doing is slamming dumb people and pigeons. And now that I think about doesn't the music trio, TLC, bash men by calling them pigeons in the song titled "no scrubs"? There must be a correlation here.
I have successfully made myself feel better. After all this bird didn't even fly away, and since I thought it would dodge me and fly away, I didn't even try to drive around it, b/c I thought if I did it might just find my tires regardless.
So, while I have thoroughly and logically relieved myself of all guilt, I still do feel really bad. Really. Isn't it biblical that we are to protect the "weak in spirit" the "meek at heart"? Who am I to say that this stupid bird had it coming to him? That he deserved it through his stupidity and simpleton nature? Take care of the poor, the brokenhearted, regardless of our low opinion of them? Thankfully it's only a pigeon, but I am afraid there are times where I/we/others feel that ill will towards people because we can justify it in our hearts and minds that it is their fault while continuing to hold our judgments. And that makes us feel better. And it is definitely much easier. Let's bring compassion back!

Required number of flair.

I have been thinking about what I am about to write for a day now, but it is definitely a topic that we all deal with throughout life and throughout circumstances. Every time I think of the movie "Office Space" there are many scenes that come to mind. Beating a fax machine to pieces with bats and clubs. The white guy named Michael Bolton who listens to gangster rap in his car to work, but is fearful "brothas" may catch him in the act. Then there are many quotes that come to mind, such as "pc load letter? What the f--- does that mean?" Now the one that has come to mind recently because of an exchange at our local Starbucks has brought me to the keyboard. (Note: And I am quite proud to say that we do in fact HAVE a local Starbucks!) Anyway the quote has to do with the required amount of flare that is necessary for one to work at the infamous Schlotkey's….not an actual venue of course, but quite obviously similar to one we all do know. Whatever, not important. I don't know of any person that has not viewed this cult classic turned mainstream pop culture movie, so I know you all remember how Jennifer Aniston's character is chastised by her chummy, nerdy loser-of-a-boss. He rattles on about how so-and-so exceeds the required amount of flair on his work uniform, while Jennifer's character sticks to the basic amount of flair that is necessary to be an employee of Schlotkey's.

So, I was ordering a Frappaccino – Pumpkin Spice for my sweet-pumpkin-of-a-husband and a coffee for myself. I inquired about the Ethiopian blend, only because I don't like coffee that is too strong that it can't be weakened with a little cream and sugar. This young kid (probably in college) doesn't necessarily look like the avid coffee drinker and I hate to judge a book by its cover, but he just didn't look like much of a coffee drinker, unless it's blended with ice and suffocated with lots of flavor (ie. sugar). But none the less he blows me away with this explanation involving many adjectives that I am not sure anyone would use in explaining coffee. I was so stunned that at this point all I remember are bold, citrus-ey, floral. So I asked this young man if he was a coffee drinker. Startled by my question, he mumbled something to the effect that he drank coffee on occasion mentioning that he worked at Starbucks and that he was a student and it helped with studying. Blah, blah. Then he adds, "I have also taken this class through Starbucks, that, well, you know, it's suggested you take if you want to move up, you know." I kind of smile/smirked and said, "Well, I suppose a lot of life is like that, huh." Not really a question, but a remark.
I have certainly learned a lot in life, and through my experiences I know that many people I know have learned a lot too, but completely different things. I have a friend through MySpace that is my age (26) and has 4 girls and has just completed her Master's. I have a friend who seems to travel all the time and still manage a full time job. I know another friend who is so completely random in his life that he up and quit his civil engineering job and decided to go back to school for an MBA. Same friend who has run with the bulls, ran a marathon, and helped build houses in Mexico. I have a friend who is a special ed teacher and the passion in her actions is undoubtedly apparent. I have countless other friends, but these are the ones that come to mind at the moment. I admire all these friends for their own uniqueness in the world, that if I were not careful, my admiration could turn in to something more detrimental to me. Jealousy, envy, all those ugly things in a person. But I'm not, and I've realized that the important thing is what you do with the cards you've been dealt. I look at my husband who is a fighter pilot and has accomplished so much and is such a strong person in body and spirit, but even there are times where he doesn't feel he adds up. This just shows me that it is a common thread in all of us.

Do I feel useless at times? Heck yeah. Some days all I've felt like I've accomplished is that my child is still alive, breathing, fed, etc. As for me and what's left of it, I can't say I've added much to my character. As a mom it's easy to let that happen because you're always 2nd and if there are more children you're even further down the list. I try to take advantage of my position and the fact that I don't have to earn any bread for the family and build myself. I work at doing things that I'm not good at. This builds so much confidence in me.

So today, do you know who I saw on Sesame Street? I am sure that is not a question any of you are used to hearing! Ha! Well, I saw Ruben Stoddard singing the ABC's with Elmo this morning. I got to thinking, "Wow, that sucks. He was the winner of American Idol and he's on Sesame Street co-starring with Elmo…a muppet!" As I started thinking, though, I thought maybe he is fulfilled. And if he is, then it doesn't matter if he sells millions of pop records or not. What is most important is if you feel fulfilled as a person. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.

Lately, it seems that whenever I can bring a smile to Ben's face, I feel more accomplished than any rich, successful person. When it comes to required number of flair in life, I believe that if you are satisfied with the number of pieces of flare on your Schlotsky's vest, then that is all that matters. THAT is the required number. You can only exceed in accomplishments on your own will and motivation – not any core value listed in any company's mission statement.
You are your mission statement.