<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998</id><updated>2011-11-05T23:35:50.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Babbling With Brook</title><subtitle type='html'>random thoughts from my noggin</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-9186000526990116007</id><published>2011-11-05T23:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-05T23:35:50.122-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Patterned</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Romans 12:2&lt;br /&gt;New International Version (NIV)&lt;div&gt;2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just love our small group. &amp;nbsp;It is so good to connect weekly to a group of people who I can learn from and share my life with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week we were asked what patterns of the world we had taken on in our lives. &amp;nbsp;Sounds like a simple question but it really stumped me. &amp;nbsp;I consider myself someone who is pretty careful&amp;nbsp;about my decisions so it was a little difficult to come up with an answer. &amp;nbsp;Then it came to me. &amp;nbsp;Busyness. &amp;nbsp;Going here, and then there, and then back to here again. &amp;nbsp;That has become my life. &amp;nbsp;Continuing to cross items off my never-ending list. &amp;nbsp;If I'm not busy, then I must not be doing a very good job at "things".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately, in the middle of small group my mind started wondering to high school when learning about priorities was number one priority. &amp;nbsp;It was something that was so aggravating to me because it was impossible for me to make my list of things that were important to me and then number them in order of importance. &amp;nbsp;But, like all teenagers, I had to learn how to decide how to spend my time. &amp;nbsp;Now, as an adult if I were to sit down and make a list of my top ten I'm afraid that I'm spending &amp;nbsp;most of my time on the bottom seven things and doing the top three in my spare time. &amp;nbsp;It should be the other way around! &amp;nbsp;How did I get so off? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busyness is a lie of the enemy! &amp;nbsp;It is a pattern of the world. &amp;nbsp;We don't &lt;i&gt;have&lt;/i&gt; to be busy...we &lt;i&gt;choose&lt;/i&gt; to be. &amp;nbsp;I'm tired of feeling like I'm spinning my wheels in mud only to get out of that hole to then start sinking in quicksand. &amp;nbsp;That feeling of getting nowhere is due to spending my time on important things, but not the most important things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-9186000526990116007?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/9186000526990116007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=9186000526990116007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/9186000526990116007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/9186000526990116007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2011/11/romans-122-new-international-version.html' title='Patterned'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-6625789394249631424</id><published>2011-10-07T07:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T07:37:54.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Wait</title><content type='html'>God gave me a little gift this morning. &amp;nbsp;I woke up an hour and a half early unable to go back to sleep. &amp;nbsp;I had so much anticipation the moment I opened my eyes. &amp;nbsp;It's as if I were traveling to Disney today. Normally I wouldn't look at this as a &lt;i&gt;gift&lt;/i&gt;. &amp;nbsp;I like my sleep. &amp;nbsp;I like waking up at the same time. &amp;nbsp;I even like setting my alarm early just so I can hit snooze for the feeling that I've somehow cheated the day out of ten extra minutes of sleep. &amp;nbsp;I lay there, forcing my eyes shut just to notice a moment later that they are wide awake staring at the walls. &amp;nbsp;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blame Erwin McManus. &amp;nbsp;Last night in small group we discussed chapter two of the book &lt;i&gt;Wide Awake&lt;/i&gt;. &amp;nbsp; So far, it has been about dreaming big so your life will be big and letting obstacles become springboards for a fresh start. &amp;nbsp;The author of this book is, you guessed it, Erwin McManus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, even though the book has been about springing off into your dreams, God always has a similar but different lesson for me. &amp;nbsp;Last night I couldn't stop thinking about how much time I spent waiting. &amp;nbsp;My life is past the point of doing the same routine day-in and day-out. &amp;nbsp;One member of our small group shared that her big decisions for the day was what to make for dinner and what show to watch at night. &amp;nbsp;While I completely relate to that, God took it a bit farther. &amp;nbsp;I kind of examined the surface level of my typical week. &amp;nbsp;I found that I pretty much spend Monday through Friday waiting to live on the weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many reasons for this. &amp;nbsp;I figure there is not enough time in a "normal" day to do anything extra. Or, I tell myself that I'm too tired. &amp;nbsp;Or, I say I'll do it Saturday so I won't add to the stress of my current day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I say...WHY WAIT??? &amp;nbsp;Do I really want to spend 250 days of the year waiting to live the other 115? &amp;nbsp;That's 64% of my year waiting! &amp;nbsp;That's just ridiculous. &amp;nbsp;I will not let stress, tiredness, or daily frustrations dictate my zeal for life anymore. &amp;nbsp;Thank you God for revealing this to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living everyday doesn't mean shirking responsibilities at work so I can go to the zoo and just spend the day watching the baboons. &amp;nbsp;(Yes, in my mind that would be a great way to spend a day.) &amp;nbsp;For me, it means to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;do something today that I didn't do yesterday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, it's that simple. &amp;nbsp;I'm not going to make it hard. &amp;nbsp;Just do one thing different than yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when I woke up early today, instead of forcing myself back to sleep only to be jolted by my robot alarm ninety minutes later, I got up and blogged the first time since May. It's one of the things I've been putting off and waiting to do for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more &lt;i&gt;waiting&lt;/i&gt; for life...I'm going to &lt;b&gt;live&lt;/b&gt; it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-6625789394249631424?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/6625789394249631424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=6625789394249631424&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6625789394249631424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6625789394249631424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2011/10/why-wait.html' title='Why Wait'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-7339763767009263012</id><published>2011-05-31T12:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T12:22:24.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not the Reason I Married Him, but Close</title><content type='html'>Twelve years ago, when I married Shawn, he didn't know anything about computers.&amp;nbsp; Now, thanks to good friends, sleepless nights and endless patience, I would call him a whiz.&amp;nbsp; He can build computers, build websites and help his helpless wife with her blog (eventhough she is being stubborn and not switching to tumbler).&amp;nbsp; So, thanks Babe for making this look so good.&amp;nbsp; I love you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-7339763767009263012?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/7339763767009263012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=7339763767009263012&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/7339763767009263012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/7339763767009263012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2011/05/not-reason-i-married-him-but-close.html' title='Not the Reason I Married Him, but Close'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-3400192254444324134</id><published>2011-05-30T00:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T00:46:54.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is Understanding Over-Rated?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Understand:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; To perceive and comprehend the nature and significance of; grasp.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. &lt;/b&gt;To know thoroughly by close contact or long experience with&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I think as humans we want to understand things. Not just know about them, but to &lt;i&gt;understand&lt;/i&gt; them. Scientifically, I can't say where this desire comes from, but we all have it. The strange thing is, that as time goes by, and life happens, we begin to accept things as fact and are satisfied with &lt;i&gt;knowing&lt;/i&gt; without &lt;i&gt;understanding&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;For instance, I remember studying biology and how life is created. I know that two cells, one from a man and one from a woman, can come together and somehow form another human being. I can't begin to understand how that works, but I know that it does. Electricity is another example that comes to mind. I know how to use it in my home. I know that when I plug a lamp cord in the socket I am tapped into a source of electricity. I know, the light is able to be turned on. However, I don't understand where the electricity comes from. In my mind I picture Ben Franklin holding a kite with a key, but I know we've advanced farther than that now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;So, why is it then that we accept all of these day-to-day things we use and know about, even though we don't necessarily understand them? Is it that we have used them or known about them for so long that the desire to understand has been lessened? I'm not going to go up to someones baby and say, "That's not a baby, because I can't explain it or understand it. And furthermore, your baby doesn't exist." I don't see anyone refusing to use electricity because they don't understand it. As far as electricity goes, I'm currently typing on a laptop, listening to my neighbor mow his yard, drying laundry and I can feel the cool air blowing from my air conditioner. It's obvious I'm not abstaining from electricity due to my lack of understanding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;As a believer in God, I must ask, why do so many refuse the existence of God and refuse to tap into his power in their lives? People can't explain God fully, can't understand him fully. But, I know him and he knows me. I've walked with him in my life for several years now and it does get easier to not understand him but still know him. For some reason, some use the lack of understanding as a reason or excuse to not believe in him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I read today,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"If anything is a mystery to you and is coming between you and God, never look for the explanation in your mind, but look for it in your spirit, your inner nature-that is where the problem is."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Some would say the author is telling us to be ignorant. But he's actually saying that the things of God are not able to be explained in our minds. God uses our spirit to speak to us, not our minds. So, if we wait to understand God, we will be waiting a long time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Just accept him. Accept him today. Don't wait. Don't make excuses and label them as reasons. Start knowing him now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 13.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-3400192254444324134?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/3400192254444324134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=3400192254444324134&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3400192254444324134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3400192254444324134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2011/05/is-understanding-over-rated_30.html' title='Is Understanding Over-Rated?'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-5405099318969237099</id><published>2009-12-03T11:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T00:01:23.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look In Your Hand</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;Shawn said something interesting last night in his lesson.  He said that we should be thankful for the things God has placed in our hand.  I looked down at my hand and it was holding my other hand.  So, "Thank you God for two hands!!"  I know it sounds like I'm making light of this, but I'm really not.  I am actually very thankful for having a body that works properly and I have all the body parts I need to live a comfortable life.  I can't even imagine missing one finger, let alone a hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I took what Shawn said very literally, (and I know that's not how he meant it)  I know I am so blessed to have ALL  of the things God has placed in my hands…even if it is my other hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-5405099318969237099?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/5405099318969237099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=5405099318969237099&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/5405099318969237099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/5405099318969237099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2009/12/shawn-said-something-interesting-last.html' title='Look In Your Hand'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-7219493169605072864</id><published>2008-12-17T22:13:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T22:18:48.515-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Parties</title><content type='html'>Shawn and I got to go to our first and last Christmas party of 2008.  There was a huge, hotel ball, but I was sick and Shawn had class.  So, we missed that one.  But we did get to go to the banquet department party.  It was fun to go out not wearing my work uniform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SUnOtZqrXkI/AAAAAAAAAL0/Q4skg6UwmE0/s1600-h/shawn+and+brook+at+banquet+party+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SUnOtZqrXkI/AAAAAAAAAL0/Q4skg6UwmE0/s400/shawn+and+brook+at+banquet+party+2008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280979317447941698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SUnOtiC4kKI/AAAAAAAAAME/g6Wlor_JN0Q/s1600-h/shawn+playing+poker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SUnOtiC4kKI/AAAAAAAAAME/g6Wlor_JN0Q/s400/shawn+playing+poker.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280979319696953506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SUnOtnWmXgI/AAAAAAAAAL8/vMygpQQH5YY/s1600-h/dancing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SUnOtnWmXgI/AAAAAAAAAL8/vMygpQQH5YY/s400/dancing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280979321121824258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-7219493169605072864?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/7219493169605072864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=7219493169605072864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/7219493169605072864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/7219493169605072864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/12/parties.html' title='Parties'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SUnOtZqrXkI/AAAAAAAAAL0/Q4skg6UwmE0/s72-c/shawn+and+brook+at+banquet+party+2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-260517170480674677</id><published>2008-10-08T22:16:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T22:46:04.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17Mk4pkFI/AAAAAAAAALU/q7VkoM_MaQ4/s1600-h/DSC01353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17Mk4pkFI/AAAAAAAAALU/q7VkoM_MaQ4/s400/DSC01353.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991796201164882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Landon lights the candles for Ashton's 8th birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17Mq-sP7I/AAAAAAAAALc/tCVwINuIQR8/s1600-h/DSC01354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17Mq-sP7I/AAAAAAAAALc/tCVwINuIQR8/s400/DSC01354.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991797837119410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a wish buddy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17M3BJsmI/AAAAAAAAALk/6FaDEVCIodc/s1600-h/DSC01355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17M3BJsmI/AAAAAAAAALk/6FaDEVCIodc/s400/DSC01355.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991801068663394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashton and Ben 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17NPjiV2I/AAAAAAAAALs/6iOiPc86bjs/s1600-h/DSC01356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17NPjiV2I/AAAAAAAAALs/6iOiPc86bjs/s400/DSC01356.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991807655335778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new friend Abbi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xAzijpI/AAAAAAAAAKs/AEzjgRsP0Tc/s1600-h/DSCN2166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xAzijpI/AAAAAAAAAKs/AEzjgRsP0Tc/s400/DSCN2166.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991322659589778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting ready for the zip line at Shawn's cousin Robb's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xOGf4LI/AAAAAAAAAK0/dSuT77bn4gQ/s1600-h/DSCN2169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xOGf4LI/AAAAAAAAAK0/dSuT77bn4gQ/s400/DSCN2169.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991326228766898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashton had to climb the tree all by himself.  He was so brave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xQ-lVUI/AAAAAAAAAK8/d1kE7qCkGiw/s1600-h/DSCN2168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xQ-lVUI/AAAAAAAAAK8/d1kE7qCkGiw/s400/DSCN2168.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991327000876354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think he needs an adjustment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xg70b_I/AAAAAAAAALE/U99yp3t3rFQ/s1600-h/DSCN2200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xg70b_I/AAAAAAAAALE/U99yp3t3rFQ/s400/DSCN2200.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991331284250610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashton and his friend Michael pass out birthday cookies at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xgoE-1I/AAAAAAAAALM/_WNl2tutclA/s1600-h/DSCN2207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16xgoE-1I/AAAAAAAAALM/_WNl2tutclA/s400/DSCN2207.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991331201448786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ben 10 Omnitrix cake--yes I'm proud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16FwGmbPI/AAAAAAAAAKE/qNDWZnZ78Gw/s1600-h/DSCN2148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16FwGmbPI/AAAAAAAAAKE/qNDWZnZ78Gw/s400/DSCN2148.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254990579441757426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our cute little apartment in Colorado Springs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16F_iTccI/AAAAAAAAAKM/GvUXuC6wUPo/s1600-h/DSCN2157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16F_iTccI/AAAAAAAAAKM/GvUXuC6wUPo/s400/DSCN2157.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254990583584485826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16GTt0MMI/AAAAAAAAAKU/MdvzFzmQ0mU/s1600-h/DSCN2161.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16GTt0MMI/AAAAAAAAAKU/MdvzFzmQ0mU/s400/DSCN2161.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254990589001478338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of learning going on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16G8sG84I/AAAAAAAAAKc/kd5agm_Uwv4/s1600-h/DSCN2164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16G8sG84I/AAAAAAAAAKc/kd5agm_Uwv4/s400/DSCN2164.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254990600000172930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our bedroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16HOAyPNI/AAAAAAAAAKk/fE4F7T16eQU/s1600-h/DSCN2165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO16HOAyPNI/AAAAAAAAAKk/fE4F7T16eQU/s400/DSCN2165.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254990604650298578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st day of school 2008 (Ashton-2nd grade, Landon-Kindergarten)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15JIjoqAI/AAAAAAAAAJc/8dWXGnqQhHE/s1600-h/DSCN2132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15JIjoqAI/AAAAAAAAAJc/8dWXGnqQhHE/s400/DSCN2132.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254989538033969154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We enjoyed ice cream after the open house at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15Jem6kpI/AAAAAAAAAJk/EEA84hj145w/s1600-h/DSCN2135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15Jem6kpI/AAAAAAAAAJk/EEA84hj145w/s400/DSCN2135.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254989543953306258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At home making a farris wheel--yea for a daddy who can build cool toys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15JbENuuI/AAAAAAAAAJs/3GApT8qcg0E/s1600-h/DSCN2142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15JbENuuI/AAAAAAAAAJs/3GApT8qcg0E/s400/DSCN2142.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254989543002454754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lanny looking big&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15JsgjqNI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/cnRJe5Zohjc/s1600-h/DSCN2145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15JsgjqNI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/cnRJe5Zohjc/s400/DSCN2145.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254989547684735186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "wall-o-toys"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15J1tMPXI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/yvqAKVmbRCU/s1600-h/DSCN2147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO15J1tMPXI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/yvqAKVmbRCU/s400/DSCN2147.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254989550153645426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;boys' room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14Ug11kuI/AAAAAAAAAI0/g4tIYAzGqMM/s1600-h/DSCN2086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14Ug11kuI/AAAAAAAAAI0/g4tIYAzGqMM/s400/DSCN2086.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988634019697378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new pet hippo...j/k...our first trip to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14U-WVo7I/AAAAAAAAAI8/GmQau69zzJI/s1600-h/DSCN2108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14U-WVo7I/AAAAAAAAAI8/GmQau69zzJI/s400/DSCN2108.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988641940644786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two sets of brothers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14VJTxt7I/AAAAAAAAAJE/FJ6Ov811y_M/s1600-h/DSCN2111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14VJTxt7I/AAAAAAAAAJE/FJ6Ov811y_M/s400/DSCN2111.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988644882692018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Way up high at the zoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14VZZM-9I/AAAAAAAAAJM/4pmGS2WBEew/s1600-h/DSCN2120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14VZZM-9I/AAAAAAAAAJM/4pmGS2WBEew/s400/DSCN2120.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988649200417746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this zoo, it's okay to feed the animals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14VdLIFcI/AAAAAAAAAJU/KpWbmPUkcMY/s1600-h/DSCN2122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO14VdLIFcI/AAAAAAAAAJU/KpWbmPUkcMY/s400/DSCN2122.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988650215118274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Landon's desk at open house&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-260517170480674677?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/260517170480674677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=260517170480674677&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/260517170480674677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/260517170480674677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/10/pictures.html' title='Pictures!!'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SO17Mk4pkFI/AAAAAAAAALU/q7VkoM_MaQ4/s72-c/DSC01353.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-2599699680575737928</id><published>2008-10-07T19:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T20:00:25.101-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Before I forget</title><content type='html'>Quick story about Landon. About Easter time last year, Landon decided he wanted his shaggy hair to be cut like his daddy's. So Shawn buzzed it and Landon has kept it very short since then. The other day, Shawn was trimming Landon's hair. They called me into the bathroom to see the finished product. I made a big deal about it telling him he looked very handsome. His response was a little shocking. He stuck his lip out and about busted into tears. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "Daddy didn't cut it right, he forgot to cut this part." He said this while pointing above his forehead. He was talking about Shawn's receding hairline and about the fact that his hair didn't look EXACTLY like Shawn's!! We did our silent parent laughing (as to not embarrass him). Our kids love us, imperfections and all! The scary thing...they want to be just like us, imperfections and all-talk about pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I promise, pictures are coming...we did buy an adapter for my camera memory thing and will be able to download them when I get some time off:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-2599699680575737928?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/2599699680575737928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=2599699680575737928&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/2599699680575737928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/2599699680575737928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/10/before-i-forget.html' title='Before I forget'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-4409056232490235237</id><published>2008-08-16T11:16:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T11:39:46.918-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;My interview went very well yesterday and the hiring manager offered me the job as a banquet server at the end! What a relief! I start the week long orientation on Monday (which is paid...what a blessing) followed by training. I get to wear a cool server tux and everything. My body is going to hurt so bad after I get on the floor but I'll get used to it. I'll get at least one day off a week. If we are really busy, I can work 6 days a week which will be great for us financially. The best part, I'll finally get to learn how to set a table:)  It will really help Shawn be able to focus on classes and the dreaded homework and papers that he'll be doing. I'm so proud of him pursuing his education in such an aggressive way! I love you Shawn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.new.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=844186&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=21730684468&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;oid=21730684468&amp;amp;id=738686447"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235150684244870962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SKb9z3APBzI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Kz7V78z4wnU/s400/broadmoor.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Here's an aerial picture of the massive, 5 Star, 5 Diamond Broadmoor. It's right at the base of the mountains!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.new.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=844187&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=21730684468&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;oid=21730684468&amp;amp;id=738686447"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235150688899364786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SKb90IV897I/AAAAAAAAAGM/5I4tU2SwS9Y/s400/banquet+room.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Here's one of the places I'll serve. That'll be me:) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.new.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=844188&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=21730684468&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;oid=21730684468&amp;amp;id=738686447"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235150690134463698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SKb90M8bFNI/AAAAAAAAAGU/PWxTJmfNl8E/s400/ballroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Beautiful picture of the Main Ballroom. Wedding receptions and the like are held here. What a great work environment huh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more about the Broadmoor, go to www.broadmoor.com.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-4409056232490235237?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/4409056232490235237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=4409056232490235237&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/4409056232490235237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/4409056232490235237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/08/finally.html' title='Finally!'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SKb9z3APBzI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Kz7V78z4wnU/s72-c/broadmoor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-3080516862062881641</id><published>2008-08-13T19:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T19:22:06.141-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ONE of the dumbest things I've ever said</title><content type='html'>I've been doing a lot of job hunting.  Yesterday I had two interviews which was really nerve racking.  Last night I remembered something and I couldn't wait to tell Shawn.  He laughed so hard that I thought maybe I should share it.  If you know me, this wouldn't surprise you at all.  The story is short...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was asked why I would be a good fit at the Broadmoor (a 5 star hotel in Colorado Springs).  My response?"I am confident and am very approachable.  Well, people tell me I'm approachable.  I have never really approached myself so I don't really know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, that's what I said in an interview!  Shawn was rolling on the floor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-3080516862062881641?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/3080516862062881641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=3080516862062881641&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3080516862062881641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3080516862062881641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-of-dumbest-things-ive-ever-said.html' title='ONE of the dumbest things I&apos;ve ever said'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-8559771571439870645</id><published>2008-08-10T22:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T22:35:22.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jobs</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to put a quick post before getting back to the Olympics (which Shawn and I are watching every minute of).  There are two very different jobs on the horizon for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Job #1 - Missions &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Asst&lt;/span&gt;. for Young Life (consists of answering calls from Young Life leaders all over the country and directing them to the right &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;departments&lt;/span&gt;...about 300-400 calls a day I hear)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;pay is okay&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;they pay 100% of benefits from day one&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;will probably get hired easily and am anticipating an interview this week (did testing last week)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;regular hours 8-5&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Job #2 - Banquet Server at The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Broadmoor&lt;/span&gt;, a local 5 star hotel&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;pay is way better than job #1&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;will get benefits after 90 days&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;am turning my application in tomorrow and will have initial interview at the same time...could get hired quickly&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;crazy hours...nothing regular...will have to work some evenings and weekends...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt; of working a max of 70 hours a week which would ensure Shawn could really focus on his classes b/c he could just work part-time, if at all&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, we are just in prayer about what to do.  At this point I will have to take whatever offer I get first.  Either one would be great and I know that God is my provider, not these jobs.  Hopefully I'll be hired somewhere this week.  Please pray that God gives me peace while he works this out :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-8559771571439870645?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/8559771571439870645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=8559771571439870645&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8559771571439870645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8559771571439870645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/08/jobs.html' title='Jobs'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-3430416943411157937</id><published>2008-08-07T09:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T09:51:30.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Return of the Nomadic Daughter</title><content type='html'>I'm going to try to keep this as short as possible b/c I hate posting long posts.&lt;br /&gt;My dad used to call me his nomadic daughter because it seemed that every time I talked to him we were moving again.  He hasn't called me that in a long time b/c we've been in Hot Springs for 3 years (our longest anywhere).  As you can tell by the title of this post, things have changed.  I'll just cut to the chase.  Shawn and I decided to move to Colorado Springs, CO so he could attend Nazarene Bible College to finish his education and to knock out his ordination classes at the same time.  He's been taking some online classes and have found they are just not for him.  He learns better in a classroom.  Owning our first home gave us a little uncertainty as to how quickly we would be able to move.  God had a plan for that...we were able to rent it to a friend from church who plans to buy it when her house sells in Little Rock.  What a blessing for us and for her.  We were sad to say goodbye to all of our awesome friends, but we knew we needed to follow where God was sending us.  Believe me, I am no friend to "moving".  I forgot how much I hated packing and unpacking.  My friends were amazing at helping us pack.  When we got to CO Shawn's cousin Robb who we found out lives 45 minutes away was here with his new wife Amy to help us unload the truck.  What a relief it was to see a familiar face when we arrived.  We've met several other students and families and have even been able to help another couple move in to the same apartment complex as ours.  We went to Springs First Sunday for church.  We plan on checking out a few more before deciding what church to call home for the next 3 years.  We're not used to having options as to what church to attend.  The church sent us off with a love offering that covered our moving costs but we are desperately searching for jobs.  The boys are happy to be here and are anticipating the snow that will come in a few short months.  We are finally unpacked and had a "normal" night last night with dinner and relaxing.  It was nice.  I will post pictures soon of our apartment and view of Pike's Peak which we can see outside our window.  Pray for God to provide just the right jobs and for the boys to have great teachers at their new school!!  Love to you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-3430416943411157937?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/3430416943411157937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=3430416943411157937&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3430416943411157937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3430416943411157937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/08/return-of-nomadic-daughter.html' title='Return of the Nomadic Daughter'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-5963712477605882304</id><published>2008-06-09T12:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T12:41:11.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All Alone</title><content type='html'>I officially know it's summer, because I'm at home for a week with the boys without Shawn. He's speaking at the Oklahoma District Camp. I really hate to be without him, but it always gives me a chance to do those projects I've been putting off. I'm going to make the best of it. And now that my work schedule has changed and I'm getting off at 1:00 (I know, it's not much of a work schedule) I thought I could work on my tan at the pool with the boys in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;Last week was VBS at our church. It was a blast. My job was photographer. What fun! I got to play all night with a camera while everyone else took care of the hundreds of kids. It made for late nights and late dinners, but was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;Besides the pool this week, my big highlight will be Friday night when I get to see Shawn come home and also I get to play softball at 9:00! I hope we do better than we did last time (loosing by one point is never fun). Another one of my joys will be packing, which is not a joy at all. Although, it is a whole lot better than unpacking which is on my list of things to do NEVER! Shawn gets home Friday...Saturday, we will meet his parents so they can take the boys on a week long adventure while we get ready to leave Monday for Gulf Shores for our "Engulfed Youth Camp". I am praying for safety, fun, sun, and for God to fall on the youth and that they would be challenged. Then we'll drive back to Arkansas Friday (20th) and then leave the next day to drive to Tennessee to spend a few days with the Gray Family. I am really looking forward to that time. We'll get to hang with Shawn's sister and her family who will be moving to Orlando very soon to a brand new ministry position. We are all excited for them and are praying for them to have a smooooooth transition.&lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much me in a nutshell lately. Love to you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-5963712477605882304?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/5963712477605882304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=5963712477605882304&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/5963712477605882304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/5963712477605882304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/06/all-alone.html' title='All Alone'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-1423595619952729050</id><published>2008-05-28T10:39:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T10:55:46.142-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Videos?</title><content type='html'>I'm going to take a stab at posting some videos.  These were all taken with my phone so the quality is pretty poor, but you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this one of Ashton last night in the tub.  He has his "own style" of shaving.  And yes, that is a direct quote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b0b758fa1b9faab2" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v7.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db0b758fa1b9faab2%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330037192%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4D7C220E1CA6C078CB82D81840DB129E8C09B607.2CAC5240E682F9B58C985A045A83326FD6587E4F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db0b758fa1b9faab2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DhxOU9N2bgsVaUE74HROT1ByziFE&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v7.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db0b758fa1b9faab2%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330037192%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4D7C220E1CA6C078CB82D81840DB129E8C09B607.2CAC5240E682F9B58C985A045A83326FD6587E4F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db0b758fa1b9faab2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DhxOU9N2bgsVaUE74HROT1ByziFE&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here's one of my favorite things to look at.  This is Landon pigging out on some Chilie's Baby Back Ribs.  He never stops chewing!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-cad1c17e84dbbc45" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dcad1c17e84dbbc45%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330037192%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D238CA85E81922FAB2CAF9A5C222C2C746058D70.75E983A0F2F9F7F5552DC303D42046FA400D8AB2%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dcad1c17e84dbbc45%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D2P2EXZYQK3lmtCl1c8ct4iVfYfA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dcad1c17e84dbbc45%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330037192%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D238CA85E81922FAB2CAF9A5C222C2C746058D70.75E983A0F2F9F7F5552DC303D42046FA400D8AB2%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dcad1c17e84dbbc45%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D2P2EXZYQK3lmtCl1c8ct4iVfYfA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here's one of the boys singing...if you can call it that.  Oh, and playing instruments.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-434b15e600e4f983" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D434b15e600e4f983%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330037192%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D41AC2754B18E9F10358721E8E8FCFCD8055E0A.32E51CB01AC7F30A71BE75EA4C0D66F5D8888ACB%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D434b15e600e4f983%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dh-0jXv9-znxPrdd5kCF6u7yErKY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D434b15e600e4f983%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330037192%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D41AC2754B18E9F10358721E8E8FCFCD8055E0A.32E51CB01AC7F30A71BE75EA4C0D66F5D8888ACB%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D434b15e600e4f983%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dh-0jXv9-znxPrdd5kCF6u7yErKY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-1423595619952729050?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=434b15e600e4f983&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b0b758fa1b9faab2&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=cad1c17e84dbbc45&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/1423595619952729050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=1423595619952729050&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/1423595619952729050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/1423595619952729050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/05/videos.html' title='Videos?'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-4995521262530924772</id><published>2008-05-08T09:47:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T10:19:21.064-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No Regrets</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling the pressure today. I've been challenged...challenged by God. I've got to step up my game, get off the bench and without sounding too much like High School Musical-I've got to get my head in the game!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain. Last night at church Shawn and I got to talk to a young girl about living with no regrets. Regrets never go away, they can stay with you forever.  She was very responsive and we hope she took our words to heart. I guess I needed to hear my own words. Of course talking to a teenager, my mind was only on teenage regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today, I get on my computer at work and find in my email a daily devotional and something caught my eye...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Today's Truth&lt;br /&gt;"She watches over the affairs of her household..." (Proverbs 31:27 NIV).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt my heart strings being pulled ever so slightly. So I read on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I have always seen a mother as a lighthouse, or beacon in a child's life. Think about it. A beacon is a landmark that her children can always count on. She shines the light of Christ at night and she serves as a landmark by day. She is watching out over the sea of faces to protect her tiny fleet. Like the Proverbs 31 woman she "watches over the ways of her household." She is present. She's available. And she's on guard.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198020719562618114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SCMUTdymdQI/AAAAAAAAAFs/E6JTiv-j-Os/s400/lighthouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The last couple of weeks have been the toughest mothering I've experienced so far. I know, I know all you mothers of teenagers...it's only going to get harder. But before I go into complete depression, I have to deal with the present before I get completely freaked out about the future. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lately, I've seen such a rebellion in one of my sons and it scares me all the way to my toes. Disrespect doesn't begin to describe what I've been witnessing. It's like I'm watching a spiritual battle take place and my son is the battlefield. It's not very easy to watch. I've found myself sobbing at his bedside at night just because he looked so peaceful and I hadn't seen him look like that in a while. I prayed like crazy. Shawn and I are always trying to think of things &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;we&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; can do differently to help our children. I know, we have a huge roll to play in his life, but I also know that I am not in control of him, that only God is.  Right now there is nothing we could tweak to make this better for him. This was on God. But, you know, what I learned this week (which I thought I already knew) was that God wants control of our kids. I hold on to them so tight that I leave no room for God to do anything. He was telling me, " He is my son, not yours. Let me take care of him!" So I did. I backed off, and let God move in. What a difference. I felt that I was loosing him already, but little did I know, that I had to give him away to gain him back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My hands were busy through the day.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have much time to play&lt;br /&gt;The little games you asked me to,&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have much time for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd wash your clothes.&lt;br /&gt;I'd sew and cook,&lt;br /&gt;But when you'd bring your picture book&lt;br /&gt;And asked me please to share your fun,&lt;br /&gt;I'd say, "A little later son."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd tuck you in all safe at night&lt;br /&gt;And hear your prayers, turn out the light,&lt;br /&gt;Then tiptoe softly to the door...&lt;br /&gt;I wish I'd stayed a minute more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For life is short, the years rush past.&lt;br /&gt;A little boy grows up so fast.&lt;br /&gt;No longer is he at your side,&lt;br /&gt;His precious secrets to confide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture books are put away,&lt;br /&gt;There are no longer games to play.&lt;br /&gt;No good-night kisses, no prayers to hear,&lt;br /&gt;That all belongs to yesteryear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hands once busy, now are still&lt;br /&gt;The days are long and hard to fill.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could go back and do&lt;br /&gt;The little things you asked me to.&lt;br /&gt;(Author Unknown)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;(I'm sorry this is so long, and if you've made it this far, I'm almost done, I promise. I probably wouldn't have read any ones blog if it was this long.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So, I want to live as a mother, with no regrets. I want to be that lighthouse, on guard, at my post, watching over my family. But I've learned the best way to do this is on my knees. &lt;em&gt;Thank you God for teaching me, for not giving up on me even when I do stupid things and try to take your place. Please forgive me for all the years I've been parenting and I haven't let you parent them at all. I love you! Thank you for loving me and my family as much as you do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-4995521262530924772?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/4995521262530924772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=4995521262530924772&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/4995521262530924772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/4995521262530924772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/05/no-regrets.html' title='No Regrets'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SCMUTdymdQI/AAAAAAAAAFs/E6JTiv-j-Os/s72-c/lighthouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-7329803341362958682</id><published>2008-05-05T09:29:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T10:23:44.634-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Current Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yesterday we had a youth fundraiser (a youth pastor's favorite thing in the world to do). This one was actually pretty cool, and easy. A local restaurant, Due Amici, an Italian eatery came to us with an idea and we jumped on it. Yesterday after church the students got to serve the tables and 10% of the sales and all tips went towards youth camp. This also provided some publicity for the fairly new restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8cHOcjb2I/AAAAAAAAAEE/XP5p9NYLf90/s1600-h/DSC00360.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196903405471362914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8cHOcjb2I/AAAAAAAAAEE/XP5p9NYLf90/s400/DSC00360.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Andy getting the first order.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196904045421490050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8csecjb4I/AAAAAAAAAEU/fsCdoDGPaLw/s400/DSC00362.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Tyler helping Andy with the big table. They all did such a great job, especially since they're all too young yet to have their own jobs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196904586587369362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8dL-cjb5I/AAAAAAAAAEc/2IfSAbBgxjg/s400/DSC00364.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Haley and Brittney making drinks. (Landon had my phone right before I took this pic and I think his little buttery fingers got on the lens...that's why it's so hazy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196904590882336674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8dMOcjb6I/AAAAAAAAAEk/587-HVhktzc/s400/DSC00366.JPG" border="0" /&gt;With a clean lens...here are the Pastor and some of the board members showing their support. I love that no matter how old you get, there's always a girl side and a boy side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196904608062205874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8dNOcjb7I/AAAAAAAAAEs/pSSZAolIl5A/s400/DSC00368.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Brian and Melissa with their happy server, Kelsea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;About two weeks ago I took the boys to our favorite park in Hot Springs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196906712596180962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8fHucjb-I/AAAAAAAAAFE/T-aV2oRPGDA/s400/DSC00326.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Ashton and Landon on the rope pyramid. It was such a beautiful day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196906712596180978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8fHucjb_I/AAAAAAAAAFM/dL9uQDDrLmw/s400/DSC00325.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ashton on top of the pyramid..."Hurry Mom, take my picture!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196906704006246338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8fHOcjb8I/AAAAAAAAAE0/CWMGxqdNY2Q/s400/DSC00329.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; After playing we went for a hike and their little boy eyes were on the look out for caterpillars. Landon was the first to find one. He loved it and took care of it all day. It even made it all the way home with us and then we had to let it outside so it could eat. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196913064852811794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8k5ecjcBI/AAAAAAAAAFc/7SjQuKkEVgI/s400/DSC00332.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Ashton did finally find one of his own, with his brothers help. They were so excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196906721186115586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8fIOcjcAI/AAAAAAAAAFU/NOOHLxV17FQ/s400/DSC00327.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;We had such a good time together at the park while Daddy was at a boring meeting. We thought about going and rescuing him, but we didn't want to get him in trouble.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I love my boys and am so thankful for days like that Saturday. As they get older those days will be harder to find. I'm soaking it all up while I can. I tell them they will always be my babies, and let me tell you, they do not like to hear that. It always makes them laugh though. I am praying that God keeps a hold of them so tight; that He will protect them; be real to them and keep them close to him through the years to come.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-7329803341362958682?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/7329803341362958682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=7329803341362958682&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/7329803341362958682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/7329803341362958682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/05/current-stuff.html' title='Current Stuff'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/SB8cHOcjb2I/AAAAAAAAAEE/XP5p9NYLf90/s72-c/DSC00360.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-8939514009693704742</id><published>2008-05-02T17:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T17:51:59.099-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He's Amazing</title><content type='html'>My husband is just so handy!  He helped me to finally have a "cool" blog.  Thanks hun! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you all think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-8939514009693704742?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/8939514009693704742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=8939514009693704742&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8939514009693704742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8939514009693704742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/05/hes-amazing.html' title='He&apos;s Amazing'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-3883427010720545136</id><published>2008-04-16T09:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T09:18:20.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My friend Amy tagged me! I am supposed to list 8 random things about myself that you may not know.  Here it goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I've had random jobs over the last years ranging from secretary-dental assistant-pool and spa sales!  But my most favorite job was staying home with my boys.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I secretly want to be an actress...either as a cast member on The Office or even as a writer for SNL.  Both would be nice.  Oh, or as a female spy like Sydney Bristow on Alias!  That would be great!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I do not like going to church district events and see my future as a pastor's wife.  I try very hard to maintain my youth and style so I don't fit into the "mold" of many Nazarene wives.  Ahhh...I'm doomed!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;At least yearly I completely change my hair style-cut and color.  It's crazy, but why not if I can right?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm a huge fan of Animal Planet, Discover Channel and TLC which makes me deathly afraid of being attacked by a shark.  My first time snorkeling (which I was completely stoked for)...I had what some would say was a panic attack in the water which in my mind was not good...I thought I was ringing the dinner bell for all sharks in the area "ahem, ahem, calling all sharks, calling all sharks...flailing young woman on the surface...your attention needed in this matter." I was also afraid I would run into coral and cut my skin and then I would start bleeding and we all know that sharks can smell blood miles away!!...did I say it was terrible.  I finally did calm down (thanks to Shawn) and really enjoyed what time I had left in the water.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had a crush on my 10th grade math teacher, Mr. Brackman.  My senior year I had an opportunity to be his student aid but turned it down because I thought he had a crush on me and that freaked me out.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wish I had a passion for running.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I hate shopping, but love buying new things...but then I feel guilty.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bonus-It took me like a month to think up all of this.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now I'm supposed to tag my friends.  Instead of doing that, if you feel like participating then go for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-3883427010720545136?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/3883427010720545136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=3883427010720545136&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3883427010720545136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3883427010720545136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/04/tagged.html' title='Tagged!'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-8917508885251279919</id><published>2008-03-27T00:05:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T00:17:12.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Been Bad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://deadhours.files.wordpress.com/2007/12/i-am-legend-bigposter.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://deadhours.files.wordpress.com/2007/12/i-am-legend-bigposter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It seems that almost everytime I go out of town, Shawn goes to the movies with friends and watches some movie that we've BOTH been wanting to see. Then I come back in town, ready to go out with my hubbie and find out that he's already seen what I've been waiting for. He did it with Star Wars (the third one), Lord of the Rings (the first one), Batman Begins, and Spiderman I think. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, this week I had to spend a couple of days away from my family. While I was in Missouri, Mom rented &lt;em&gt;I am Legend&lt;/em&gt;... a movie we've been wanting to see for like a year it seems. I was laughing with Mom telling her that I couldn't wait to tell Shawn that I got him back. As it turns out, Mom and I got pretty freaked out. I wished I had Shawn to cuddle with to make me feel safe. Serves me right I guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We talked and he asked me what I did tonight. I confessed and he headed to RedBox to get the movie. He's brave to watch that movie all by himself! I bet he'll wish I was there too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-8917508885251279919?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/8917508885251279919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=8917508885251279919&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8917508885251279919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8917508885251279919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/03/ive-been-bad.html' title='I&apos;ve Been Bad'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-6688954206698810067</id><published>2008-03-17T10:26:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T00:19:14.945-05:00</updated><title type='text'>why my back hurts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last night I felt as if I were in college again. Only this time, my crazy roommates were my two boys. It was way past their bed time and we were just finishing up baths. They had just slipped into their p.j.s and were showing off their dance moves. Landon has apparently learned a "hippo" dance from school which involves him swishing his hips around and then quickly poking out his bootie for the grand finale. Then Ashton was showing us his moves, which words can not describe. Seizure is the only word that comes close. That's when it got interesting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ashton lye flat on the floor and then started wiggling around trying to do "the worm". Then Landon tried. I was laughing so hard, I soon found myself on the floor. I flipped and flailed the way no real worm does (unless it got stepped on). I tried and tried and tried. I finally decided that my back was just not flexible enough, but did that stop me...no. I kept trying until I hurt my knee. Shawn just watched shaking his head. Then I challenged him. A smirk found it's way to his mouth and he hit the floor and showed us his best worm moves too. I've decided that the Gray's are not meant to do the worm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It took me a couple of hours to figure out why my back was hurting this morning!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-6688954206698810067?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/6688954206698810067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=6688954206698810067&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6688954206698810067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6688954206698810067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-my-back-hurts.html' title='why my back hurts'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-6409791363101740115</id><published>2008-02-25T11:35:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T00:17:54.577-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons From Landon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/R8MDIhJk_qI/AAAAAAAAACo/HdsAPmuY1NA/s1600-h/IMG_5754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170980242023841442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/R8MDIhJk_qI/AAAAAAAAACo/HdsAPmuY1NA/s320/IMG_5754.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As a parent, I'm constantly thinking of ways I can teach my children. I want to teach them about God, how to treat girls, the importance of being obedient, how to play sports, and good manners-with boys, this one is key especially with little sounds that escape from little boys. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today, I am reminded of one of the many things that I have learned from them. Kids are so black and white. They know what they like, where they want to go, what they want to do and who they want to be with. However, kids have to adapt all of their wants to the adults in their life. They may want to eat at McDonald's and McDonald's only, but we go to Red Lobster instead. As an adult, I'm sure if such a high percentage of my opinions were trumped by someone else, I think I would go crazy. When decisions are concerned, kids rarely get their way. Do they always deal with that in the right way...no. But they do learn quickly how to be submissive and how to compromise. These are lessons I need to learn desperately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;A couple of months ago, Landon taught me something so valuable. We were up at the church and we had been in the office for a long time. They boys were playing nicely and had kept Daddy busy folding paper airplanes. The time had finally come when Shawn and I were ready to go. We had gathered our things and were footsteps from the door when I looked down at Landon and his shoeless feet. He was so busy playing with his plane that he forgot to put his shoes on. I got frustrated and &lt;em&gt;sternly&lt;/em&gt; told him to &lt;em&gt;quickly&lt;/em&gt; go find his shoes and get them on his feet. One thing you have to know about me is when I'm ready to go...I'm ready to go &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;now&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Any delay is very annoying to me. I waited for what seemed like 5 minutes, but was probably actually only like 15 seconds. I stormed off to find out what the hold up was and saw Landon and his paper airplane "flying" extremely slowly through the office doing a "air search" for his shoes. He was doing what I asked him to do, but he was having a good time doing it. He was so lost in his imagination that he just couldn't stop. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;When I get asked to do something I don't really want to do, I rarely have a good time doing it. Children are being asked all the time to do things they don't want to do, but they are still able to have fun doing it. How? Landon taught me that day, to just slow down. I get ruffled over silly things that I could actually enjoy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I just need to slow down. I just need to slow down. I j u s t n e e d t o s l o w d o w n !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-6409791363101740115?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/6409791363101740115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=6409791363101740115&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6409791363101740115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6409791363101740115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/02/lessons-from-landon.html' title='Lessons From Landon'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/R8MDIhJk_qI/AAAAAAAAACo/HdsAPmuY1NA/s72-c/IMG_5754.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-3820344591747693800</id><published>2008-02-20T10:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T10:28:54.963-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Being Forced</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I haven't posted anything in such a long time due to facebook and myspace.  I'm mostly on facebook now, but Shawn had an idea.  He's made a website (finally, poor thing) for Get Real Student Ministries.  He wanted all of the adult staff to make a blog and he's adding links to the website to all of our blogs.  Pretty cool I thought.  So anyway, that means that I must start posting things again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Nothing really new in my life.  Just the same-ol-same-ol (is that how you spell it?)...me playing volleyball, Ashton playing basketball, Shawn working hard, parties with friends, getting beat at nertz, Landon cracking us up daily, Ashton learning to read, me helping in Ashton's classroom occassionally, making plans to get grass on our dirty yard, listening to bumpn' music in the Get Real Mobile...you know the usual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In the middle of all of this living, I'm realizing more and more that God wants more and more of me.  How much more is left of me?  I'm not sure.  I keep catching myself red-handed stealing bits and pieces of myself back from God.  I've gotten so good at it, that I hardly realize when I do it anymore.  There's got to be a support group for this or something.  Oh, wait, there is.  And it's name is Get Real Student Ministries.  I just love that guy.  (If you read the Junie B. Jones book series then you are laughing right now.)  Shawn's been going through the seven deadly sins.  Each one is really hitting home.  This week he's talking about gluttony, which will probably make me puke right on the gym floor.  I'm not encouraging self purging, It's just an expression I use a lot.  I'll have to let you know tomorrow what color it was.  Gross I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-3820344591747693800?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/3820344591747693800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=3820344591747693800&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3820344591747693800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3820344591747693800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-being-forced.html' title='I&apos;m Being Forced'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-8305817687405360372</id><published>2007-08-17T16:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T16:42:42.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amidst my busy schedule...God is near</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/RsYWGkXO1MI/AAAAAAAAABU/8NUCBIqra0k/s1600-h/flowers-daisies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099787930139808962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/RsYWGkXO1MI/AAAAAAAAABU/8NUCBIqra0k/s200/flowers-daisies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My&lt;/span&gt; friend Joyce posted a blog the other day about how much time she spends working on her flower gardens and not enough time enjoying them. She had bought several items that were supposed to attract hummingbirds but she was frustrated because she hadn't seen one of these unique birds yet. So one day, she decided she was just going to sit outside and watch. To her amazement she discoverd that many hummingbirds were visiting her garden, but she was always just too busy to see them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her story really spoke to me and challenged me as well. The day after reading her post I found myself outside watering the yard and flowers. I was "trying" really hard to relax when I had a wave of stress and guilt come over me. I could hear my boys inside playing and I began to think, "what am I doing out here, I'm wasting my time. I need to be inside doing laundry and playing with them and getting ready for work." I couldn't stop thinking of all of the things that I had to do that day and of all the things that I could be in the house doing right at that moment. Then I thought, "no, I'm going to stand out here and enjoy this time of peacefullness and listen to the rythmn of the sprinkler hitting the leaves of my plants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an important sidenote, I must say that I have a terrible fear of flying/stinging insects. So much so that I often panic and start crying when they are around. (silly I know) But, at that time of feeling all of the sress I heard my worst fear...bbbzzzzzzzz....I looked around ducking and found that it was not a bee, but it was a hummingbird!!! I couldn't believe it. That is the only hummingbird I've EVER seen at my house!! I felt God telling me that He loved me and appreciated me loving His creation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God really uses nature to speak to me, it's AWESOME! Honestly, it's been a while since I've sensed His presence like that. I feel as if He's drawing me near to prepare me for something. Maybe not though. Maybe He's just drawing me near to simply be near to me. I am His daughter you know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-8305817687405360372?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/8305817687405360372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=8305817687405360372&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8305817687405360372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8305817687405360372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2007/08/amidst-my-busy-schedulegod-is-near.html' title='Amidst my busy schedule...God is near'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/RsYWGkXO1MI/AAAAAAAAABU/8NUCBIqra0k/s72-c/flowers-daisies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-3423801446634081259</id><published>2007-08-14T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T18:02:41.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick little ditty about my reunion!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/RsI0cKg5a9I/AAAAAAAAABE/6lHgkimx-sw/s1600-h/me+and+lish.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098695386600139730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/RsI0cKg5a9I/AAAAAAAAABE/6lHgkimx-sw/s320/me+and+lish.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A couple of weeks ago, I traveled with my family North to Lee's Summit, MO to attend my 10 Year High School Reunion. I couldn't belive it had been that long, but I think everyone says that right? It was a whirl-wind trip. We arrived in Lee's Summit at 1:30 a.m. Saturday morning and left at 11:50 p.m. Saturday night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then, that's right folks, we drove all night!!! Well, we had to get back for church. You would have done the same thing I'm sure. Maybe not, we're a little crazy sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reunion was strange to say the least. We had a good time, but it was weird to see people I hadn't seen in that long. Most people looked the same just a little older. I got to see my best friend Alisha and her husband which was pretty cool. My other really good friends weren't there. One lives in England and the other in Oregon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real fun started about 3:00 a.m. Sunday morning when I was jamming to The Cranberries Greatest Hits! I had that stereo so loud so I wouldn't fall asleep. My boys didn't seem to have any problems sleeping through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much more to say about that really. I probably won't see most of those people until the next reunion. It really gave me some perspective on high school. Now, if I can only explain all of this to our teens at church who freak out if they have a bad hair day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-3423801446634081259?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/3423801446634081259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=3423801446634081259&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3423801446634081259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3423801446634081259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2007/08/quick-little-ditty-about-my-reunion.html' title='Quick little ditty about my reunion!'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/RsI0cKg5a9I/AAAAAAAAABE/6lHgkimx-sw/s72-c/me+and+lish.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-9117462474579700778</id><published>2007-01-11T10:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T11:54:28.044-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to the Kansas Mountains</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/DSCN1424.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/DSCN1424.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm sure that not every one is aware that the state of Kansas actually has some very beautiful and breathtaking mountains. Yes, it's true, when driving across the lovely state you may be saying to yourself, "if I just shut my eyes maybe my view will improve,"...and then you see them. Far off in the distance at first, then closer and closer...yes, there, there are mountains in Kansas. And oh, look at the snow, how beautiful. "Thank you God for creating such awe inspiring views for my bored eyes!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I know this is probably not making sense to many, but it's all too familiar to me. You see, when you have been in a van with teenagers longing to stretch your cramped legs in COLORADO your mind begins to play tricks on you. When you want to see something but don't, your mind somehow creates that image to please your senses. This is very common in the desert but I experienced it just the other day on our way to Colorado for our teen ski trip. This would be my first time skiing and I was pumped to say the least. I couldn't wait to see the views, the mountains covered in snow, my breathe visible for the first time this year and to see what it's like to look down from the top of a mountain. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Well, my hopes were dashed about 37 miles from the Colorado state line somewhere close to Garden City, Kansas. We knew there was a blizzard heading for our destination of Winter Park Resort outside of Denver so we left Hot Springs a day early hoping to gain a little extra time to navigate through the storm. God had different plans for us. Shawn had said that he felt this trip was vital for our group to bond. And bond we did. We bonded all day. We bonded all night in our 15 passenger van. We actually had 2 vans and it was amazing to see God's Spirit guide us on our trip. Thoughts of the famous Donner Party flashed through my mind as the teens stocked up on water at every gas station "just in case". Our plan to take hwy. 75 was changed when it closed. So we decided to go a little south to cut over to hwy. 25. Well, then the road we were taking to get to 25 closed. In fact the entire eastern part of Colorado closed. It was no use, we would not be going skiing after all. We decided to make the best of it and stay the night in Garden City and go hang out at the Target in town for the 3rd time that day. While&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/DSCN1434.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/DSCN1434.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; going in to check into our hotel, we got another weather report that the stalling storm was now moving and it was moving toward Garden City. YEA! Now what? Let's go to the fun town of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wichita&lt;/span&gt;, now there's a happening place if I ever saw one! (I really can't be too sarcastic, I am living in Arkansas.) Waking up the next day in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wichita&lt;/span&gt; instead of Colorado was disheartening but we were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;relieved&lt;/span&gt; when we saw the weather channel that morning with a report saying that Garden City got a load of snow and we would have probably gotten stuck there. At least we would have gotten to actually see some snow I guess...we might have starved, but we could have seen snow!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;All is good. I can return the ski socks and mittens I borrowed from a friend who used to live in Denver and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;skied&lt;/span&gt; every day. I will have no exciting ski story to tell her, but I will be able to tell her that God protected us which is pretty exciting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/DSCN1435.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/DSCN1435.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Even more amazing than that the teens didn't complain at all! They were great. Sure we were all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt;, but we didn't let it stop us from making new memories and BONDING in every sense of the word! Lest I remind you of what it smells like in a church van on a 32 hour ride?!?! Some one once said that getting there is half the fun. Well for us, getting there and getting home was 100% of the fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-9117462474579700778?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/9117462474579700778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=9117462474579700778&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/9117462474579700778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/9117462474579700778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2007/01/trip-to-kansas-mountains.html' title='Trip to the Kansas Mountains'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-3331051292956731860</id><published>2007-01-10T21:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T22:23:52.435-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I need your creative help...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I've got a quick question for you.  There's a lady in my bible study who is an artist and is taking a portrait class at the college here in town.  She asked if I would be interested in modeling for the class.  (I will be wearing clothes in case you're wondering.)  But here's the problem.  She said to think of some type of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;costume&lt;/span&gt;" for the portrait.  She said some just wear a big hat or something simple.  I'm all about simple.  It shouldn't be obnoxious or anything b/c she's going to give me her painting of me when she's done with it and I don't want to look at it and just laugh.  Maybe I could give it to my mom or something.  Do any of you have any ideas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-3331051292956731860?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/3331051292956731860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=3331051292956731860&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3331051292956731860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3331051292956731860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-need-your-creative-help.html' title='I need your creative help...'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-3771978772816644912</id><published>2007-01-08T21:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T14:30:32.276-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We're finally back into the swing of things after all of our December travels. We went to Shawn's parents house in Tennessee this year from Christmas. Here are a few of the hundreds of pictures we took. Love to you all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/FighttheDarkSide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/FighttheDarkSide.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; Ashton fighting the Dark Side&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/CousinsintheirHats-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/CousinsintheirHats-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The Boys and their two cousins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/GraysChristmasEve.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/GraysChristmasEve.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; The Gray Family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/Landonatthebar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/Landonatthebar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My Lanny &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/SantaSighting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/SantaSighting.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The Santa Sighting&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/JungleAshton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/JungleAshton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; Jungle Ashton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-3771978772816644912?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/3771978772816644912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=3771978772816644912&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3771978772816644912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/3771978772816644912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2007/01/christmas-2006.html' title='Christmas 2006'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-6946480689764318035</id><published>2006-12-19T22:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T11:31:39.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Offspring</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My site was looking a little plain so I thought I'd add some cute kiddos to spice it up a bit :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/landon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/landon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; This would be our four-year-old Landon. (looks like Daddy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/ashton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j201/shawngray/ashton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ashton this past summer. He's six now and in kindergarten! I can't believe it! (looks like Momma)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-6946480689764318035?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/6946480689764318035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=6946480689764318035&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6946480689764318035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6946480689764318035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2006/12/my-site-was-looking-little-plain-so-i.html' title='My Offspring'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-8046967236474490305</id><published>2006-12-18T23:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T00:33:18.502-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Question...What are feeds?</title><content type='html'>Okay all you blogger friends of mine. Could you put in "Brook" terms what it means at the bottom of everyones site where it says "subscribe to: post (atom)"?  Please someone help me with this.  Does this somehow notify you of new blogs?  I'm so used to "myspace" and it's taking me a while to navigate through the blogging world.  Thanks in advance :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-8046967236474490305?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/8046967236474490305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=8046967236474490305&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8046967236474490305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/8046967236474490305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2006/12/questionwhat-are-feeds.html' title='Question...What are feeds?'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-1403762571799203269</id><published>2006-12-17T19:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T20:23:32.621-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Currant</title><content type='html'>Wow, I have to say that I didn't know what I was getting into when I started this whole blogging business.  I've been reading some of my friends sites and am blown away at the time and thought they have put into their writing.  Please do not go on if you plan on getting anything like what I read on Amy's site about blessing and prosperity.  You may be very disappointed.  I can't pretend like I read all of her blog comments...believe me I wanted to, but my eyes kept crossing from all of the words.  Plus, I don't have a computer at home so my time is limited here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of that to say, that I thought I'd write quickly what was going on with me this past week.  Shawn and I were recovering from strep throat in the beginning of the week.  Monday also brought Ashton's first basketball practice.  Shawn also experienced his first experience coaching 5-6 year olds.  It was very interesting to observe from the stands.  I finally felt sorry enough for him and got off my rump and helped.  I'm proud of him for doing something that is not so comfortable for him so Ashton could be more comfortable with his first team sport.  I'm sure there will more blogs about their basketball happenings.  Tuesday I got to play volleyball with our church team while Shawn recovered at home with the boys.  It was great.  Somehow we recruited this girl from Germany who played in the Olympics.  I knew she was good Tuesday but didn't know she was in the Olympics until last night.  It all made a lot more sense to me after learning that fact.  She could jump serve and everything.  I was no longer the "best girl" on the court which is one thing I like to be.  But I also like to win and I like to play with good players.  So I got to do those two things and it was a lot of fun!  She even invited me to play sand volleyball with her and her friends when it gets warmer.  The end of the week brought our church's Christmas play.  It was Fri-Sun night.  In fact it's going on right now.  I'm in Shawn's office with Landon b/c he got booted out of the kid's room for being disobedient-gotta love it!  I think he's just really worn out and ready to go home.  I can't blame him; I do to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow brings the beginning of us preparing to go to Tennessee for Christmas.  We've got to do all the fun stuff like get our car checked out, go through bills, laundry and pack.  Oh and did I mention that I still have to do my shopping.  Some where between now and Wednesday I've got to do that too.  I'm excited though.  There are some things that I can't mention in case the boys have suddenly learned to read that I've been waiting to get them.  Okay, here's a hint...they've really enjoyed building things lately, so I will be searching for items they can do that with.  We're not getting them anything big this year.  It'll just get broken, lost, or they will loose interest in it in two days.  I'm not going down that road again this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we get back to Arkansas from Tennessee we're turning right around to Colorado for a ski trip with the teens!  I am very excited to see the mountains and all of the snow.  I miss snow I have to say.  I want the boys to be able to play in it like I did as a kid, but I'm afraid they won't get many chances to do that here.  Maybe I'll move somewhere colder...just kidding.  I've never been skiing before and am pumped to do it.  Shawn assures me he is a good teacher and that he'll have me going down the bigger slopes on the second day.  I'm not so sure I'll even be able to get out of bed the second day, but we'll see.  I think my legs...well no, my entire body will be in shock after skiing.  I'll try to take pictures so I can share them when I get back.  I'm actually not sure who is reading any of this besides Scott and Joyce.  We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I write my life down, it sounds so boring.  I'm not bored though.  I promise there's more to my life than a list of things to do, but right now with Landon repeating, "I want to go home, I want to go home" about a million times, I can't think of anything profound to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas.  Jesus is the best gift I've ever been given.  It was given to me by the best Father I've ever known.  I am blessed!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-1403762571799203269?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/1403762571799203269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=1403762571799203269&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/1403762571799203269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/1403762571799203269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2006/12/something-currant.html' title='Something Currant'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-5067828092700716273</id><published>2006-12-10T14:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T12:27:40.947-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Distorted Beauty"--we're all being fooled</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's true, we're being fooled. Our impression of what is beautiful is being tweaked and we don't even realize it. I was floored when I saw the work put in to making on shot for an add. I'm also sure that this is not even the full picture the real work and amount of time it takes to make a model "ready" for the camera. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As girls we constantly want to become and more importantly, be viewed as more beautiful. It's sometimes so frustrating looking at those magazines in the checkout line which are covered in "perfect" women. Plastic surgery is on the rise and the age of women getting work done is declining. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the poor boys/men out there you see these same faces (and bodies) in magazines too. WARNING-WARNING-WARNING you too are being fooled if you think these girls really look the way you are seeing them in print. I think there are a lot of guys who get married and are really disappointed in the wife because she doesn't "measure up" to the image. And frankly, we can't, it's impossible, unless of course we have a Super-Team available to assist us on a daily, or more realistically an hourly basis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Check out this link to see what really happens to those who girls view as "perfect" and those who guys view as "hot".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.campaignforrealbeauty.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;www.campaignforrealbeauty.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; --&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Just hit "play film" when the option appears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-5067828092700716273?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/5067828092700716273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=5067828092700716273&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/5067828092700716273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/5067828092700716273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2006/12/distorted-beauty-were-all-being-fooled.html' title='&quot;Distorted Beauty&quot;--we&apos;re all being fooled'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-6023371732606357051</id><published>2006-12-10T13:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T12:29:18.072-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bible Study Fellowship</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A couple of years ago, I started attending Bible Study Fellowship (BSF). It's the best bible study I've ever been to. It will take me seven years to go through the whole study, but by the end of those seven years I will have a greater understanding of the bible than I would if I was just doing it on my own. A person can start coming anytime. Each year is a different study; this year is Romans. Talk about getting deeper with God. I'm beginning to understand all of the things I've just "known". I didn't think that by learning the "basics" of Christianity would help me understand who God is, what he has done for me and what he would like me to do for him. Right now, we're learning a load about faith. What do you think faith is really? It's a word we toss around everyday..."you gotta have faith", "I have faith in my husband", "I have faith that the game won't get rained out". The word faith is getting tossed around about as bad as the word love, (Rob Bell,from Nooma said "I love my wife, but I also love tacos??") I'm learning that it's not faith that's important, it is the object of your faith. What or who are you putting your faith in? Romans 3:22 says, "This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe." A person can't or shouldn't say, "it'll happen if you keep the faith". Faith in what, just believing that it'll happen won't make it happen, but having faith in Jesus, now that could do something! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so good to be in God's word and actually learn something. I really struggle with my lack of being self-motivated. In high school and college, I could make my body do crazy things in sports because I had a coach there instructing me and encouraging me. Bible study is the same for me. I need the accountability that comes with organized group study. I've grown to like the "guidelines" that come with Bible Study Fellowship and have even applied some of them to my personal life...like the importance of being on time...that was a hard one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are Bible Study Fellowship classes all over the world. There are classes for men in the evenings, classes for women in day or evening and also in some areas classes for singles. If you already have a devotional life then adding BSF to your life would only require 2 extra hours a week to attend class. An added bonus to those of you with kids is they have a free children's program where the kids learn what you are learning each week, on their level of course. The women's day classes accept children ages 2-5, and evening classes take kids kindergarten-high school senior. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do let me know what you think about faith, your faith, or how the word faith is used around you. Also, if you want more information about BSF, let me know!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-6023371732606357051?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/6023371732606357051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=6023371732606357051&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6023371732606357051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/6023371732606357051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2006/12/bible-study-fellowship.html' title='Bible Study Fellowship'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2153200854336996998.post-2347406788056278965</id><published>2006-12-10T13:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T12:29:33.526-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why No Cell Phones??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Okay, so we're getting a lot of grief over us not having cell phones anymore. Well, here's my response...who needs them! Since my mom works for Sprint, we got a huge discount on our cell phones. Her company was making some changes and our plan was going to change drastically and cost a lot more. Plus, we weren't getting very good service in Hot Springs anyway. So, we made a call to Sprint. They said that since we were on the edge of a "dead zone" that they would let us out of our contract. "Great" we thought now we have to get new phones and get set up with a new carrier...joy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We thought we'd take a few weeks off from being accessible 24/7 and surprise, surprise, we found out that we liked not having them. It's great not having so many interruptions to life. Shawn and I talk a lot more especially in the car where before we were making lots of calls then. Some people still complain that they can't get a hold of us. (aren't cell phones for my convenience, not theirs?) Another point to my argument is that no one tries to reach us at home. Here's a great sample conversation....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dude&lt;/strong&gt;-"Hey Shawn, I really needed to talk to you today. It was very important and I couldn't reach you anywhere!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shawn&lt;/strong&gt;-"Oh, sorry about that. I would have liked to talked to you too. Did you try me at home?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dude&lt;/strong&gt;-"Well...no"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shawn&lt;/strong&gt;-"Sorry, but I do always check my messages at home and work and I didn't get one from you today. You should have left me one saying you were looking for me and I would have called you right back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hilarious to me because very few people actually call us at home. I guess the possibility of us not being there, readily available as with cell phones deters folks from calling us. This tells me that what they had to say wasn't really that "important" to begin with. The fact is...cell phone users aren't really as accessible as they would like to think. Many of my friends have cell phone and never answer them...they just screen calls and call people back when they feel like it. To me, that's worse than just not having one. At least we answer the phone when people call. Anyway, I just got all worked up over this again and I didn't mean to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I would like to challenge anyone reading to go cell-less for a day or even a week. Just see what it's like, your "extra" time will amaze you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2153200854336996998-2347406788056278965?l=babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/feeds/2347406788056278965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2153200854336996998&amp;postID=2347406788056278965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/2347406788056278965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2153200854336996998/posts/default/2347406788056278965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblingwithbrook.blogspot.com/2006/12/why-no-cell-phones.html' title='Why No Cell Phones??'/><author><name>Brook</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00687400009563505720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t6jPO2fvMow/St8Ilp2naXI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bfQGmX8tKik/S220/DSCN2688.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
