Changing the World

I consider myself very lucky and blessed that I did not endure a traumatic childhood, but I know people who did. And I am aware that there are millions of men and women in the world who still struggle with the messages and abuse they received in their past, as well as innumerable children living painful lives at this very moment. I may not have experienced circumstances like the ones described in this poem and video, but I do recognize the importance of spreading awareness throughout society and providing support and encouragement to those battling this horrible challenge. This message is far too powerful and important not to share.

“My experiences with violence in schools still echo throughout my life, but standing to face the problem has helped me in immeasurable ways.

 

I wrote 'To This Day', a spoken word poem, to further explore the profound and lasting impact that bullying can have on an individual.

 

Schools and families are in desperate need of proper tools to confront this problem. We can give them a starting point… A message that will have a far reaching and long lasting effect in confronting bullying."

- Shane Koyczan

Happy Election Day!

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I voted, did you?

What a privilege it is to live in a country that allows us, regular ol' citizens, to elect our leaders. Regardless of the outcome, it is always an honor to take part in the democratic process, and I try not to take it for granted. Have you taken advantage of this opportunity to help determine our nation's future?

Faith and Love. But no Hope?

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And now these three remain: Faith, Hope, and Love.

But the greatest of these is Love.

1 Corinthians 13:13

It's another new month. But I don't mean October. This new month comes with a much heavier weight than the joy of autumn and the anticipation of Taylor Swift's fourth studio album. I mean another new cycle. The start of another new month after another failed month of trying to conceive. It's month 22 in a row of deliberately trying to get pregnant and not succeeding (not counting the year-worth of months we casually tried before that). It's month 22 of unfulfilled hope. It is month 12 of intervened, doctor and drug assisted attempts to conceive. Month 12 of unfulfilled medically assured hope.

 

That hope, it's a tricky thing. The hope is what makes it hurt. Every new cycle, like this one, it's the hope that "this could be the month." Every drug, it's the hope that "this one is going to do the trick." Every ovulation, it's the hope that "this egg is going to get fertilized and become my baby and be the first of my children to bless our home." Every two week wait filled with unusually strong smells or weird tastes or tender breasts or exhaustion or light pink spotting around possible implantation days, it's the hope that "these are symptoms of pregnancy, finally." And then every new menstruation, all of those fresh hopes die; are given up; are grieved. They must ultimately be replaced with new ones, again. But is that continually possible?

 

The death of that hope hurts.

 

Wouldn't it be better to just not hope anymore? Wouldn't it be less painful to not get hopes up just to be let down?

 

I wish I could respond to those rhetorical questions with a determined strength and scriptures to back it up about how God never lets us down and to just keep on truckin' along with that hope in full swing. (There are plenty of them.) But I can't. Not today. Not Cycle 22, Day 1.

 

I have love aplenty. I love my husband with all my heart. I love our families. I love our friends. I love our pup. I love my Lord and Savior with my entire existence. And I never, for one second, doubt God's love for me. After all, He loved me enough to sacrifice His only son for my salvation. That's a love that can't be questioned.

 

And I don't waiver with faith. I truly believe that God is good, and He knows what is best for our future. I believe He wouldn't withhold something I desire so strongly unless it was for a great purpose I can't see. If He's willing to give even His own child for me, why would He keep anything else from me unless it was for some great reason?

 

But, today, the hope is a struggle. The definition in the above photo states that hope means "to look forward to with great confidence and expectation." Well, I simply can't claim that right now. Just yesterday I was doodling our future children's names on scrap paper at work, but today, I can't look at this new month with any confidence that we will conceive. I can't actually expect to see a positive pregnancy test anytime soon, if ever. Too many months of experience have taught me that it's simply not going to happen. Why would this month be any different? We're coming up on the third holiday season I hoped to celebrate with either a baby or a pregnancy. I can't imagine this one will be the one, either. Boo.

 

Hope is tricky, because we hope with our human perspective. I could passionately hope to win the lottery, but it'd be silly to blame God for not granting me my wish. Or I could have hoped desperately to marry some random dude, all the while God knew that Brad was the man for me. Or I can hope with every ounce of my being to conceive a child (or two or five), but God may know that my heart's desire isn't what our future holds. Maybe we are to adopt? Maybe we are not meant to be parents at all. (I'm not at all prepared to accept that one, yet.) That's why hope is tricky, because it's determined by what we hope for, which may or may not be right for us. So basically, I have hope for a future, and hope to serve God faithfully, and hope for an eternity spent with Him in Heaven, but right now this minute, I do not have hope to conceive, at least "naturally" or any time soon.

 

How in the world do you know what God wants for your life? Do you just wait and wait and wait and wait until something happens and then assume that it is His will since it came to pass? Do you continue trying in the meantime for what you want? Or do you just trust that if God wants it to happen, He'll make it happen regardless of the effort put in on your part? After all, Mary conceived without ever even having sex! If God wants us to get pregnant, He can achieve that regardless of whether or not we take drugs, endure invasive procedures, or pee on sticks. Trying desperately and pleading in prayer every month isn't going to accomplish anything if it's not His plan anyway, is it? So what's the point? When do you let go? When do you move on? How do you know what His will is and what it'll take, if anything, to achieve it?

 

I don't know...

 

I think this month is unique with unprecedented difficulty for me. For the last 22 months, I've been devastated every time I didn't conceive, but I never really doubted that I was eventually going to. This month, however, the non-conception came as no surprise. It's what I've come to expect from years of experience. Furthermore, what's changed this time, is now I'm doubting and questioning and confused. Doubting our future. Questioning God's will. Confused of what steps to take, if any. I've always been so confident that I would be a mom, and sure that God knew my life better than I do. I've never truly asked "Why?" before, because I didn't think that as a member of creation I had the right to question the Creator. But this month I can't seem to help it. A lot of "Why?'s" and "What's the point?'s" are swirling through my head right now. I've never crossed this bridge of doubt before, nor did I ever intend or desire to, and I don't know how to navigate this new terrain. And I'm not entirely sure I want to stay in this new hopeless land long-term anyway.

 

Is it possible to have strong faith and love but let go of some of the hope? Is it healthy? Is it okay? Because today, that is where I am.

But what do you do without hope? How do you keep going? How do you give up a dream and longing that God placed so deep within your soul? How do you let go of the hope that you'll one day join Him in creating life? Of the hope of feeling your baby's hiccups from inside your belly? Of hearing his or her heartbeat for the first time? Of seeing that sweet face and recognizing a perfect combination of you and your spouse? Of rocking an innocent child to sleep with a lullaby and a nightlight? Of caressing that soft cheek as he nurses? Of hearing precious coos filling your house? Of looking into her eyes and seeing your future? How?

I'm at a weird place right now. I don't know how to keep the hope alive, but I don't know how to let it go either.

 

I genuinely wish I could be strong and faithful and encouraging and end this blog post with passionate affirmations to never doubt and never lose hope. I love God with all that I am, but today, I can't encourage or affirm. Thank you for allowing me to admit my weaknesses, struggles, wounds, shortcomings, and vulnerabilities. Christian family (which I consider all of you to be) is such a blessing.

Security Blankets

I have some security blankets. There, I said it.

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Like sweet Linus from Peanuts, sometimes I just need a little something to make me feel safe and "at home" again when the world is spinning too fast for my liking. For me, those blankets aren't necessarily physical objects that I clutch in my hand (anymore -my childhood teddy bear has officially taken up residence in the guest room-), but have evolved into forms of entertainment that allow me to escape my world and all of the confusion, stress, drama, apprehension of the future, and every other bad feeling or emotion that it may contain. Generally, any good album, film, or book (series) can help temporarily distract me from my stressers, but sometimes I need my go-to security blankets to slow the world back down when I can't seem to get a firm grip on anything. Lately, my life has hosted its fair share of frustrations and chaos, and as a result, I've been venturing back more and more to my safe places looking for that comfort and familiarity that they provide.

Currently (this minute), the biggest Bad in my life is my perceived loss of control and sense of self. I feel like I've become a slave to (in)fertility and her many cumbersome treatments. Each day/week largely consists of a calculated diet, an exercise regimen, doctor visits or calls, insurance questions, acupuncture sessions, checking my temperature, peeing on sticks, swallowing various forms of medication, enduring negative side effects, monitoring any changes in any symptoms in my body and mind, attempting to understand everything, trying to not expect anything, making all efforts to avoid looking into the future all the while hoping and longing for that unsure future. Basically, it feels like every minute of my life is determined for me. I'm trying to do what I'm told to do by people whom I trust and respect, and do all of those things with only positive thoughts and emotions without recognizing the dark, misting raincloud that seems to hover over my whole world. I strive to meet those requirements with very few freedoms or choices of my own. Needless to say, I frequently find myself grasping for a sense of control and familiarity. Enter my metaphorical security blankets.

If I've simply had a bad day and I only want to unwind on my way home from work or while I'm making my evening salad for dinner, I'll turn to my "afghan" security blanket: my best friend, Taylor Swift. She and I have such a great relationship. We just get each other. So, as I drive away from my bad day, I blast her music, belt out every single word to each song, dance around the kitchen, and gladly enter into Taylor's world and forget my own. Her music is my afghan, because it's pretty and small and easily accessible.

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 If a 45-minute commuter concert isn't quite cutting it and I need a full evening away from my own life, then I'll crash on the couch and pop in one of my go-to DVDs. I love Dirty Dancing and Moulin Rouge! both so incredibly much for so many very specific reasons that I won't necessarily go into full detail right now. (The love! The dancing! The songs! The costumes! The theatricality! The woman-is-worth-more-than-she-ever-thought-before!)

But these two films uniquely qualify as security blankets because of my personal history with them. In college, I would watch either of them as I studied, did homework, or wrote term papers. At the time, they provided a perfect distraction; one that would keep me from hearing the chatter in the hallway and wanting to join, but didn't demand my full attention because I knew them by heart. Music would beg me to sing along, and regular television programs would urge me to see how they ended. But Dirty Dancing and Moulin Rouge! were perfectly there for me. I could tune them out when I needed to focus, and I could turn around and join in the storyline at anytime that I needed a mental break from the school work.

From 2002 - 2006, my favorite two movies were my college companions. Now, they serve a new role as a couple of my "fleece throw" security blankets. When I sit down and watch one of them, the familiarity of the story lines, the song lyrics, the memories attached to different scenes all make my heart calm down from its now-typically quickened pace. In this other world, I know what's going to happen. I know how each person is going to react. I know what they're going to say, and I can recite the lines right alongside them in unison. I don't have to wonder or try to make sense of anything or be anxious with a ton of apprehensions looming in my mind. I can just rest in the safe place that their love and their stories provide and completely escape the heaviness of my own life for an evening. Since these act as fleece throws in my life, I keep them readily handy, pull them up to my chin, and snuggle up under the comfort they provide.

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However, the Big Daddy of all Safe Places is Hogwarts. When I need more than one night "off" from my brain, when my emotional muscles grow too weak to carry the weight of it all anymore, I run into the arms of JK Rowling's magical world of Harry Potter. This is my most sufficient way to escape. It's a long-term relief with the fantasy lasting weeks or months or however long I want it to, but it only requires short-term commitments of reading at a time. I can go back there, whenever I choose, for merely a few minutes if I simply need a break to clear my head, or I can go back there for hours on end if I need to better forget all of the responsibilities and burdens I'm hauling.

I can experience Harry's journey with him all over again from start to finish. Alongside this boy wizard, I can realize that I, too, am capable of great things I never knew possible, learn of magical places and creatures, meet fantastic characters and form strong, life-long relationships, and eventually understand that I am destined to fulfil a calling and a purpose that no one else is equipped to do. Through Harry, I can leave all of my troubles behind and soar with him on the backs of thestrals and dragons and finally, after much struggle, defeat the bad guy once and for all. For the moments that I am entered into Hogwarts, my life is free and light and fun and magical. And familiar. This book series is my biggest, softest, comfiest, covers-the-whole-bed security blanket of them all.

Recently, I purchased and downloaded all seven books in electronic form. I can't even describe how wonderful and therapeutic that was for me. Just knowing that I had the entire series on hand at all times on my kindle or my iPhone literally sent a sense of physical calm and relief through my body. (Yes. I may be crazy.) What those e-books provided me was a completely accessible security blanket any time I might need it. Just having the blanket present actually created a safe place in itself. Any time life gets too crazy or chaotic or confusing or scary or overwhelming, I can whip out one of my electronic devices and quickly retreat into the fantasy world. It helps me not be afraid of what's to come. I can handle the coming days and weeks and months (and years?), because I know that the very moment it all gets to be too much for me to take, I can dive into the safety of Hogwarts. What an amazing resource a security blanket can be. 



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Do you have a "security blanket?" Where is your safe place to escape when the real world gets too much? And have the forms which your security blankets take morphed over time as you've gotten older?

Patiently Waiting

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Baby, I love you, though God has not yet given you to me;

I have spent my whole life learning patience, and that is now what I am trying to be.

I love you though we have not yet met, and though you are not yet real;

Somehow you are in every thought, and love is all I feel.

You’re a dream I didn’t know I had, a prayer I didn’t know I would pray;

A song that I would sing to you, if only you would stay.

We want you in our life to share a love that is so strong;

And we will continue to wait for you – it does not matter how long.

We believe in God’s perfect plan, so you will come when the time is right;

And though you are not here yet, you are already Mommy’s delight.

I want to hold you in my arms and teach you to be great;

I want you to be our legacy, our destiny, our fate.

Your daddy and I love you, and we can’t wait for the day;

When we get to kiss you gently, and you will never go away.

We have a wonderful marriage, maybe this hardship is our test;

But holding hands together, we continue to pray for the best.

That you will grace our lives with greatness and make us a family;

So the love that is too much for two can soon be shared by three.

♥

{*Excerpt from "Every Drunken Cheerleader... Why Not Me?" by Kristine Ireland Waits}

Let's get reacquainted.

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So, you know how when you haven't talked with somebody for a super long time, you just can't wait to get the opportunity to catch up with each other? And over that long period of time, you constantly thought of things you'll need to remember to discuss when you finally get the chance? And how you think that the reuniting conversation will be hours upon hours of filling one another in on each of your lives? But then, you know how when you do actually see each other or make that phone call, the chat session falls quickly short because you both realize you don't know what's going on in each other's lives anymore, so you don't even know where to start? You both say the typical "I'm good. Family is great. Work is the usual. Everything's about the same." because there are simply so many missing details that it's difficult to find that common ground again.

Well, that's how I've felt with this blog lately. It has literally been months since I visited, and nearly half a year since I truly posted anything with effort and substance. I've kept on thinking, "Man, I really need to blog again!" But every time I got the chance, I have felt like I somehow forgot how to do it. I have simultaneously felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of the "catching up" I need to do, and underwhelmed by the lack of truly interesting things to talk about.

But I've missed all of you and this aspect of my life so much over the last few months, that I just can't bear the thought of this awkward silence lasting any longer. It is time to break the ice. So, please, let's get reacquainted.

Hi! How are you? How has your year been? Have you enjoyed your summer, so far?

Let me go ahead and fill you in on what updates 2012 has brought me.

First, I was initially distracted early on with my typical busy season at work, which always pulls my attention away from here, so that was not unusual. However, overlapping with tax season was a major family emergency back in March. If you are friends with me on facebook, I'm sure you know from my weekly, sometimes daily updates that my dad was involved in a severe motorcycle accident on his way to work one Monday (the 19h to be exact). At that point, the rest of my world either fell to the back burner or stopped altogether. Brad and I dropped everything and drove to Indiana. I don't want to get into too many details, just because it's so much, but basically he broke part of his back, a few ribs, his cheek bone and bruised his lungs in addition to some superficial scratches and bruises. Thank the Lord that he survived the accident and was not paralyzed at all. (Hallelujah!!) But, it's been a long couple of months since then.

Dad's closest companions for weeks.

He was dependent on a ventilator, feeding tube, and heavy sedatives for over a month, as he remained in a coma-like state. Virtually the entire family stayed there the whole first week while his survival was still in question and as he endured various reconstructive surgeries. I returned to work and tax season the following week while Brad stayed for another week to be with him in the hospital. Since then, Brad and I have travelled to Indiana every weekend to visit. After a month, and conveniently right after the tax deadline, our visits became more productive as Dad finally began to wake up. I stayed another week with him as he was weened off the ventilator and sedatives and started to interact, drink then eat, sit up and even walk again. Shortly after that, he was moved to a rehab facility and transitioned into being more mobile and independent.

I am very pleased to say that God has been healing him at such a rate, that Dad is now back home!! He is slow and sore, but mostly just very, very blessed! :)

Needless to say, it has been a looooong few months for my entire family. Brad and I are about to enjoy only our second weekend home since the accident, which is why I'm just now beginning to feel like my life is calming back down. In fact, this weekend, my hubby and I are experiencing Nashville in its truest form at the CMA Fest! Holla! We went to the first night last night, and can't wait to hear all of the other great country acts throughout the weekend!

Sitting waaaay up high in the stands of LP Field!

In other update-news, we still aren't pregnant, but are trusting that God's plan and His timing are both perfect, and He knows much better than we do about what's best for our family! Patience is a virtue (that He is teaching me about the old-fashioned way). In the meantime, I can't get enough of the one baby boy that we do already have in our lives!

On one of our many roadtrips to visit Dad.

So there. Now that we're reacquainted with each other and got this awkward interaction out of the way, let's allow our relationship to flourish again! Tell me all about how you are! I've missed you!!

We are Warriors!

Seriously, you're never going to believe this. In fact, I was there, and I hardly even believe it, myself.

Last Saturday, Brad and I, along with some friends - Kris, Jeremy, Madison, and Josh, completed the Warrior Dash. Yep, you heard that right. I did the Warrior Dash. It's a 5k that includes 12 obstacles. Wait. Let me rephrase that: It's running. Forever. And having to complete boot camp training througout!

Obstacles included jumping over walls then rolling under barbed wire multiple times in a row; running through tires then climbing over old cars; crawling through a pitch dark tent; climbing rope nets; climbing over giant walls with only a rope to pull you up; crawling across suspended rope nets; jumping over burning logs; then finally swimming through mud underneath barbed wire to get to the finish line. Yeah. I did that!

This was the final result:

Here's Brad and Kris first thing in the morning. For some reason, Brad decided to run the entire race as a California Raisin. Random. I still haven't figured out how he saw to complete all of the tasks through those tiny eye holes.

The race had professional photographers throughout the course. You have to purchase their photos, which I am too cheap to do. However, since they literally covered each of them with a million watermarks, I don't feel too bad about "borrowing" them for the sake of this blog. Doesn't Bradley look totally B.A. jumping over that fire and crawling out of the mud?

This is proof that I actually crossed the finish line. I was basically dead by this point. I had visions of me running through with my arms held high to the cheers of the crowd, but when it came to it, I was huffin' and puffin', just glad to be alive.

Jeremy and Madison were a power couple, totally finishing the whole course like champs.

Kris actually showed us all up. From the start, he ran ahead and dominated the entire thing. And since he was willing to purchase (and doctor up) the photos, his pictures look friggin' awesome.

Here we all are after the "shower." aka, mass party under a firehose. Gotta love the viking helmets.

I agreed to run the Warrior Dash with Brad under two conditions: He stay with me the whole time and go at my pace for the entire course; and he promise to not laugh at me when I cried. He only fulfilled one of those promises, because I never ever cried! And I completed every single obstacle! Booya!

It was actually quite fun to do with him. We both really enjoyed it, and I love that I got to exprience something so extreme with my One And Only. Brad says he'll definitely do it again the next chance he gets. I say I'll definitely be waiting there at the finish line, cheering him on and taking muddy pictures of him and his equally crazy friends!

And after such an exhausting morning, sweet Layla's welcomed us home with a pretty banner expressing her support. Love her! ♥

You better believe I'm proud of that Warrior Dash viking-helmet-shaped medal I received at the finish line. Brad teased me for wearing it to our friends' house. And to the grocery store. And to church. But I totally earned that baby, and I'm going to wear it with pride! It's currently hanging from the rear view mirror of my car, constantly reminding me of what I'm capable of. Slow and steady. :)

Damsel in Distress

Seriously, does this ever really happen?

{Taken with my cell phone as soon as it happened}

I thought it only happened in the movies or in commercials, but I legitimately broke the heel of my shoes the other day! And I wasn't even doing anything awesome! Just boringly walking through the building of my lobby to my car after work. What a lame story. I wish I had been running in the rain after a moving train containing my long lost love or something. Anything more dramatic, romantic, or climactic than going home. Womp, womp. Oh well, it is what it is.

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They were a Christmas gift from my husband this past year, and I basically wore them every single day, either to work or to church. I guess eight solid months of weight on the same quarter inch of heel will finally take its toll on a shoe.

RIP perfect, comfy, cute, stylish, just-right-size-5, wear-with-anything, black heels. You meant a lot to me during your heydey, and you will be greatly missed.

Heavenly kisses

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Okay, I'm not saying that all of my recent grumpiness has been the result of cold, dark days, but I would totally argue that warm sunshine makes me so super much happier!

We had some absolutely beautiful weather this weekend, which served as a much needed reprieve from the dreary winter we've sustained thus far. I woke up Saturday (barely) morning to sunshine streaming through our blinds. And later that afternoon, I joined EmJ and Layla for a walk around the 'hood that resulted in the removal of my unneccesary sweater!

Last night, after a blessed, Spirit-filled Life Group with our Christian family, Brad and I drifted to sleep with our bedroom window opened wide, welcoming the precious gift of nice weather into our lives with prayers of thanksgiving on my lips. This morning, I woke up in the arms of the man I love, with the scent of fresh air clinging to the warm breeze filling our sunlit sanctuary bedroom. What a great way to begin the week.

God gives us new days, and they seem even more wonderful to me when He sends them to us with a kiss.

"If You Want Me To" by Ginny Owens

The pathway is broken
And the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why You brought me here
But just because You love me the way that You do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If You want me to

No I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise
You're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to You
Then I will walk through the fire
If You want me to

It may not be the way I would have chosen
When You lead me through a world that's not my home
But You never said it would be easy
You only said I'll never go alone (yeah oh oh)

So when the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I can't hear You answer my cries for help
I'll remember the sufferin' that Your love put You through
And I will walk through the darkness
If You want me to

'Cause when I cross over Jordan, I'm gonna sing, I'm gonna shout
Gonna look into Your eyes and see You never let me down
So take me on the pathway that leads me home to You
And I will walk through the valley if You want me to

Yes, I will walk through the valley if You want me to

Pep Talk

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

*Breathe*

I just need to remember sometimes, I can do this. Life seems crazy. Work is crazy. I feel like everywhere I go there's a new fire I need to put out, and I have zero control over starting those fires, but I (feel like I) have complete responsibility with handling them.

Sometimes I just want to check out. Give up. Walk away. Pull the blinds and lock the doors, shut off my phone and internet so I can just retreat from the world to snuggle with my husband and my pup.

How did I get here? Why do people think I can handle this? I'm just one girl. One very weak, exhausted, overwhelmed, drained, stumbling, tired little girl. How is it even possible to make it through?

But then I remember, I am just a person, and the One who truly matters doesn't actually expect me to do anything at all. Because it's not really me who is doing or handling anything in the first place; it is Christ who lives in me. And together, we can do anything.

So, again, I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Biker Babe

I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit that this costume had absolutely nothing to do with Halloween.

When we recently visited Indiana, Brad and I met my dad and brother for lunch one day at Culver's (Yum!). Turns out my dad has become quite the Biker stud (on his Geezer Glide, haha), and he couldn't resist dressing his little girl up in all of his mo-mo-gear (leather coat and gloves, do-rag, and aviator shades), even though every bit of it was way too big for me.

I do believe I'd make quite the Biker Babe! Well, at least that's what my daddy told me...

Now let's see if my real Halloween costume can top this... Hope you all have a spooky Halloween and have a lot of fun dressing up in really great costumes!

The art of Subtlety

City driving has the ability to bring the road rage out in anyone. I can definitely relate to these not-so-subtle sentiments.

The funny thing is, I ended up passing this guy on the right because he was going so slow. Guess he didn't get his own message.

Cookie Monster

First things first: Take a look at Chester's handsome new attire for the recently cooler weather.

Isn't he so snazzy? I was plannin on doing a post just to show off his GQness, but it has been trumped by an unexpected turn of events. However, since he's wearing the supa sexy sweater in the other pictures, I felt it necessary to introduce his wardrobe first. Mission: Accomplished. Now, moving on...

Yesterday, Brad texted me while I was at work saying, "So somebody left cookies on our porch. Think they are safe to eat?" Hmm.. that's a mystery.. No note or message or card or anything. We debated for a bit of the likelihood of a murderer lacing them with anthrax and placing them into our unsuspecting path. (Not unlike when Hermione instructed Harry and Ron to leave two sleeping-potion-filled cakes in easy places for Malfoy's dumb friends Crabbe and Goyle to find, before hiding them in a closet and plucking out a few of their hairs to add to the trio's polyjuice potion in The Chamber of Secrets. Yeah, that's for all my HP friends out there. You know who you are! Anyway, I digress...)

It didn't take much investigating to learn that Emily had left them as a thank you for watching their cat while they go out of town. (Seriously, did they not learn their lesson the last time??) So, after trusting their poisonlessness, Brad brought the container of cookies upstairs with him and "taste-tested" one.

Anyway, that's all just to set up the background for the incident.

Brad and I met right after work and were out of the house until late in the evening. When we got home around 9:30, we immediately noticed that Chester was "actin' a fool." He always greets us with excited, puppy joy, but this was crazy. He was tearing through the house at lightning speed, barely paying us any attention. After a couple minutes, he ran upstairs without us, and stayed up there for quite a while. Well, this was not the welcome we are used to. He always jumps and kisses all over us, and he seldom goes to the opposite floor of the house by himself. We anxiously anticipated what toy he was going to bring down to us, because we were laughing at how much energy he had and assumed that he wanted to play fetch or something.

After a little bit, he ran back down the stairs (so fast that he skipped the bottom three steps, and landed on his face before acting like nothing happened and sprinting twice around the dining room table), but he had no toy with him. Weird. What was he doing up there? He licked the last three drops out of his never-empty water dish and dashed back up stairs. By this time, Brad and I were just laughing out loud and talking about the amount of Loco he had gone. While we put away our groceries and Walmart items, we discussed what could possibly be drawing our sweet puppy upstairs, away from us, and how maybe he's getting older and growing more independent. *tear*

Then Brad went upstairs for the evening. Then he saw it. Then he understood. Then he yelled down at me, "MINDY LYNN!!" Then I ran up the stairs.

Then I saw it. 

Then I understood.

Then it all made so much sense.

That little brat was going psychotic, because he was on a freakin' sugar high! He ate a dozen (minus one) cookies straight out of the container! He never gets any people food, whatsoever (except that one time), and here he goes having all these sweets at once! No wonder he was running around like a banshee. No wonder he was upstairs without us for such long periods of time. No wonder his water bowl was uncharacteristically dry as a bone. No wonder his breath smelled unmistakingly like cookies!! No wonder he seemed so happy and proud of himself. Seriously, he's a brat. A big, bratty, brat.

{Ahem. That's what Brad gets for leaving them on the couch without the lid sealed tightly. I'm jussayin...}

But even with this recent bout of orneriness, he's still the sweetest little pup ever. I mean, did you see him in that adorable sweater?? C'mon...

Regardless, I do believe he owes Emily one giant "Thank You!" for the fresh batch of homemade cookies. I'll make him paw a thank you note. (After all, we want to train our children to be gracious.)