To My Dad

There are lots of things that come to mind when I think about my dad. I think about how funny he is and how people, if they don't take the time to talk to him one on one, often don't see that side of him.

I think about how he's a different person when he gets away from the city. When he's in Nevada/Southern Utah he takes on a boyishness that I love to see.

I remember the family home evenings we would have, and how he and Mom insisted on having them every Monday night, no matter where we were. I loved that he would dress up with us and tease mom and all of us kids.

And we would tease him (this was taken after we'd accosted him outside the new bathroom...)

Some of my greatest outdoor memories of my dad involve the hatchet.

He really could make a perfect bonfire that would smolder into perfect s'mores coals.

Hahaha. More FHE pictures. This was from "hat night". We were just getting ready to play "the basketball game" (I have no idea what it's really called).

Evidence that Dad can fall asleep anywhere, anytime.

A trait he passed on to most of his children

Just another crazy night in the Bradshaw home.

I love how my parents never hid their affection for one another in front of us kids.

We have this amazing backyard with delicious fruits and vegetables, due in large part to Dad's research and execution of proper pruning and nutrition of plants.

We were just getting ready to go apple picking in the backhoe (Dad's idea - shocker).

This time last year, when Dad was diagnosed with cancer, I made a spur-of-the-moment trip home. It was one of the best decisions I made last year.

I love this picture of my parents. It says so much with just one image.

I love that Dad loves to laugh. I love it when he gets laughing so hard sometimes he cries and that it often happens during family prayer. He's usually the one who has to leave the circle to wash his face before we can continue in reverence. Usually it was something fairly innocuous to set him off; but his mind gets going on a tangent and he can't stop laughing.

I love that he loves to be surprised and delighted by unexpected things

I love that Dad loves to play a good practical joke.

I love telling Dad stories that involve my feistiness. His reactions are always perfect.

I love that he's a good listener and will talk for as long as you need to talk.

I love that he has spent so much time becoming who he is and gaining so much experience which he then shares freely.

I love that he wanted to have a big family.

I love that he wants to see his kids succeed and does all he can to that end, even when it means letting us tough it out alone.

I love Dad.

Happy Birthday, Dad! (I miss you...)

To My Great-Uncle Wilford

This morning I got up with the sun and went for a run/walk.  I went to the beach for the weekend (sort of against my better judgment) and felt some sadness this morning that I had removed myself from all of the wonderful memorials this city has to offer on such an important weekend.  I felt a great desire to go to the WWII memorial to lay a flower at the base of the Utah pillar in honor of my great-uncle Wilford, but instead I made do with a walk in solitude.

Uncle Wilford was only 19 when he fought in the Battle of the Bulge in WWII.  He was my maternal grandmother's brother.  She didn't talk about him a lot, but when she did it was always with love and a little bit of sadness.  Whenever I think about Wilford, I think about how much life was lost so young.  I tried to picture what it would be like to lose a brother in war, and thought about how many people are living that reality today.  I felt gratitude this morning for the service the military renders, but also thought about a day when wars won't be fought, when there will be peace on earth, and wondered how that will ever happen.  And when.

I didn't make it to the memorial today, but I will this week and will take a moment to pause under Utah, to say a prayer for peace, and leave something in remembrance of Uncle Wilford's sacrifice.  I am grateful for the knowledge of eternal families so that I can hold on to the hope of meeting Uncle Wilford someday.  

Dad's Counsel

My dad is full of wisdom and good counsel. Having him as a mentor has made it so that as I get older, the stage at which I bring a problem or a decision to him for advice gets pushed further and further down the line. I will admit, though, sometimes we as his children would roll our eyes when he would give us the same few pieces of advice over and over again. Almost without fail, regardless of the problem, a counseling session with dad would elicit his most famous phrase : "Just tell that person how it makes you feel. Say 'I feel ________ when you do _______.' No one can argue with how you feel." We thought it was the lamest advice as kids. I mean, what kid uses that sort of sentence construction? But lame as we thought it was, we remembered it. Just this morning, Tom and I were talking about how wise that counsel was and how we use it a lot now in our adult lives, though I think it's probably been years since either of us have heard those words from our father.

The other piece of counsel my dad frequently gave has definitely been a governing force in my life. He used to tell me, "You can gauge how much you want something or how important it is to you by the price you are willing to pay." That counsel used to frustrate me so much as a teenager (and even as a college student), because he usually said it when I just wanted him to give something to me or tell me the easy way or find some way to circumvent the path that everyone else had to take. I felt cheated at times, feeling that certain paths were not open to me because of one thing or another, when in reality many (not all) were closed to me because I was unwilling to pay the price.

As I've set about trying to make some pretty serious life decisions for myself the last couple of years, I have used both this counsel and the feelings of the spirit to explore and make decisions. I have had some idea in my mind of where I have wanted to go and what I have wanted to do, but have been frustrated by my lack of experience required for some programs or jobs as well as various fears, such as failure, standardized tests, being poor, choosing the wrong path, etc. Earlier this year I took a break from actively pursuing and researching various ideas. I figured I either didn't know myself well enough to know what I wanted (or what I wanted enough to sacrifice for it), or that it just wasn't time to move on from this particular phase of life. Instead, I chose to focus on other short-term things I knew I could be successful in, racing being one of them.

I got involved in some intense training and planning and even coaching a little bit. I became aware one day of all the time I was putting into this and remembered my dad's counsel. Clearly this was something that was important to me because of the time and effort I was putting in, and, while it was taxing at times, it didn't feel like sacrifice. I filed that feeling away (but not too far away) hoping to be able to access it when I felt it was again time to start exploring job and life options.

That time came not too long after. I think because the training experience was so fresh in my mind, and because I had been mulling over Dad's counsel, I revisited a path that had initially felt closed to me but suddenly became an option. And not only an option, but upon investigation was the obvious choice. The amount of work required to go down this path did not change, but I found that I was no longer daunted by the steps required. In fact, it has been fun and exciting, and I feel confident I will succeed.

I mentioned this all in passing to my dad soon after I had set the plan in motion. He listened to the details and then said, in that soft and low voice he uses when he's really proud and feels both rationally and spiritually that something is a good decision, "I think this is a really good path for you, Julie." I didn't need his approval to move forward but because I had used his counsel to make a decision that I felt great about, his reaction was so satisfying. And when he followed that up with, "I have complete confidence that you will continue to make good decisions for yourself," I cried just a little bit. The only words that came to my mind were, "Because of you Dad. Because of you."

I hope I will have the same unflagging courage (and capacity) to give unpopular but wise advice to my own children. I will always be grateful to my own father for his wisdom and courage to share freely what he knows to be true.

Genius (or maybe I'm just a little slow on the technology front)

Can I just tell you how much I love 

 
my computer, 

 
Google, and 

 

my little brother Tom.

I've only recently discovered that my computer has a webcam with a built-in microphone and that Google's videochat is really high quality, all thanks to Tom.  We had a little video chat session tonight.  I can't tell you how much it lifts my soul, especially when I'm missing my family.  It's the next-best thing to actually having them physically here.  The first time we videochatted I almost emailed Google kind of a schmoopy thank you email because I was just so happy to have been able to see my little brother in real time, all thanks to their genius.  Sometimes it's hard being so far away.  

Tommy Chucky Wah

As a great surprise my little brother Tom drove down for the afternoon from Philly (where he is working for the weekend) to hang out with me.  

Tom has a special face I like to call his "sweet and tarty" face.  He spent the day trying to help me perfect the look.

This might be my favorite picture of the day.

Bob....and Frank...

Joining the tourists on a beautiful spring afternoon.

I also really love this picture.

This is the "sweet and tarty" face and pose.

Tom says this was my best attempt of the day.

I love brothers.  

I think Spring missed the memo

Dear Spring,

Today is March 20. Where are you?!

Warmest regards,
Freezing in D.C.

Seriously. How am I supposed to live like this?

I have a few things to share today in an attempt to spice up an otherwise cold and windy SPRING morning.

I forgot to mention something in my shoe post yesterday. As soon as I left the office, it started raining. And it got cold. And I was in a dress. And of course I didn't bring an umbrella. As I stood at the stoplight by work, I considered my options: go back to the office and race on Saturday in hashed shoes that are hurting my feet, or weather the cold rain and get the shoes. Mid-contemplation, a very nice middle-aged man from South Carolina offered me shelter under his umbrella. Then he walked me to the metro. It's hard to explain the effect his kindness had on me. I forget sometimes that I truly appreciate the gentlemenly-types. It makes me feel and behave more like a lady, which I like. It also makes me blush a little in a non-scandalized way, which I also like.

So, the marathon is tomorrow. I'm proud to report that the only cookies that derailed me over the last month were Girl Scout cookies. I did not bake one treat during the cookie fast, nor did I fall victim to the dreaded pink cookies of death. Aren't you so proud? We'll see if it did me any good. Also, the marathon's in D.C. so anyone finding themselves on the mall up towards the capitol around 9 or 9:15 or so can see me at mile 16 or 17. Not that you need to, but just in case you want to.

I think that's all. Sorry for the boring post. I do have a great confession in store for next week, though. And suddenly I just want to ask, how is everyone doing? I'm not very good at posting things that inspire a lot of chatter (still learning), so I don't feel like I get to engage in online conversation, but I do really want to know what's going on. Talk to me. At the very least, give me the link to your blog so we can blogstalk each other.

Random Twitching, Inspirational Articles, and New Nakies

I don't know what I've done, but the back of my neck is twitching rather uncomfortably. Maybe it's my overuse of the mouse (pathetic job). Maybe it has something to do with my swim this morning (doubtful, but maybe). Maybe it has something to do with the same thing that's making my heart do funny things, namely the depletion of electrolytes that I have failed to replenish (hmm, most likely, I think)... Whatever it is, I'd like it to stop. The sooner the better.

On another, completely unrelated note, Ch sent me a great article (in the mail!) the other day. It was one of those articles that had a similar effect as discovering Anne Fadiman's familiar essays. Discovering myself as a writer has taken considerably more time and effort than I anticipated and this was yet another piece of writing that unlocked a little bit more. More on that maybe tomorrow.

And one last note: I'm an aunt again! Evan James Bradshaw was born on Monday. It's times like these I wish I lived closer to home. Just look at this preciousness. I just want to pick him up and smell him and kiss him and call him Magnus...I mean Evan.

I will say, it's a little eerie how in this particular family resemblances have begun to repeat themselves. Jonathan is a mini-Paul. Evan is a mini-Matthew. I wonder if they had another (I know, Wendy, bite my tongue) if he would look like a mini-Josh. Or a mini-Megan.

Check out little Jonathan with Evan. I love this look of curiosity and excitement on his face. [sigh] I have two little nakies now and I miss them both.

Okay, I will now stop being schmoopy about my family. This is not that kind of blog (I'm not exactly sure what kind of blog this is, but it's not really the type where I parade pictures of family in a non-interesting way. I would be more entertaining about this whole thing if babies did anything remotely interesting, I mean besides being really really cute. The only story Evan can give me right now is the fact that we were all pulling for him to be named MAGNUS because it was mentioned once in jest about how it's a family name and they were going for a family name, or at least considering it, and how I told Wendy that I might just call him Magnus anyway, because I'd already gotten my hopes up for it and I wasn't sure if I could make the switch in my heart and how she responded that she was prepared to accept that. I mean, that's the only story I've got so far. He could be a Magnus, right?!)

I love babies. The end.

More on that interesting article tomorrow.

Thursday's Wish

Thursday's Wish:

For winter to be over.

I have been such a good girl this year. I haven't complained much about the frigid temperatures we've been experiencing this year. I finally bought the right training gear, a proper winter coat, and a hat and this winter has been the most bearable one in my almost six years out east. I told myself the frozen-over Potomac was beautiful; it hasn't done that since my second winter here. I told myself the geese sitting on a sheet of ice, squaking at runners as they ran by, were cute (after I laughed at the thought that maybe they were there because their feet were frozen in the ice or their bums had somehow adhered themselves to the river). I thought the construction cone sitting in the middle of the Tidal Basin was funny. I also thought it was funny when the water in my fuel belt froze through on one of my long runs. I feel so tough training in this. But when I come home from a run and my hair is in icicle dreadlocks...for the fourth straight day... and my skin is bright red even though I have been wearing three layers...and I get caught in a snow downpour and start sliding all over the roads when I'm already really tired of running...and the trail takes a week to de-ice, and even then there are still treacherous patches you can't see until it's too late and you start screaming like a girl and everyone wonders why until they hit the same patch of ice... it's just time for it to be done. I've had my opposition. I'm ready to appreciate spring.

Cherry blossoms, why do you feel so far away?

Speaking of cherry blossoms..... They signify warmth, longer days, the kite festival, and..... a visit from the Mama. And while we're here and blogging and on the topic of the Mama...

Last night I received a Valentine's package from my parents. I opened it to find a container of "Cupid Corn", some Jolly Rancher suckers, and a tube of mascara. I thought a few things: 1. That's nice of Mom to not send me this thing absolutely full of candy; 2. A tube of mascara is a funny thing to send instead of candy; 3. It looks a little beat up...maybe she got it from the dollar bin at Target...I'll give it a shot. I tried it this morning and really liked it.

I called Mom this afternoon to thank her for the package.

"Hi Mom. Kim declared me the mail winner last night since I got your Valentine's Day package. Thanks for the mascara. I tried it this morning and I really liked it." Silence on the other end. "Hello? Mom?"
"I'm here."
"Did you hear what I said? I really like that mascara."
"Well... isn't it yours?"
"What?"
"Didn't you leave it here when you were home for Christmas?"
"No."
"Oh. I sent it to you because I thought it was yours."
"Oh. I thought you sent it to me to fill the package with something other than candy."
"No, I really thought it was yours. It was in the bathroom after you left after Christmas."
"Yeah, now that I'm thinking about it I remember you asked me before I left if it was mine and I told you no."
"Oh. I thought you told me yes."
"No."
"Oh." ... "Did you like the Cupid Corn?"
"Yes, of course. You know I love candy corn. Thank you! I just mentioned the mascara first because I thought it was interesting that you'd send me that and that it was kind of beat up and not in a package or anything."
"No, I just threw it in at the end. The Cupid Corn was supposed to be what you were excited about."
"Oh. Well I am. I was just confused about the mascara. But thanks! They are both great."

We then proceeded to laugh pretty hard (Mom apparently fogged up her glasses because she was laughing so hard she was crying).

Maybe next week I'll tell you about my dad and his wheat milk experiment ... I love my family.

Oh, and if you visited my house this Christmas season and left an orange tube of mascara that looks like this:

Let me know. I'll mail it to you.

Caught. Again.

If you're female, you know this badge of shame well, or at least you've done the walk of shame. No, not that walk of shame.  I'm talking about the ones at weddings.  The ones where the emcee announces it's that time, the time for the bouquet toss.  When you're 16, it's exciting because you're still dreaming of that cupcake dress and ostentatious wedding to some missionary serving in your ward.  When you're 18, your dream may shift to the missionary you sent off.  When you're 28, it's just embarrassing.

The first bouquet I ever caught, I believe, was when I was 15.  It was at David and Rachel's wedding.  It was exciting.

The second bouquet I caught was when I was 17, almost 18, I think.  It was at Gary and Natalee's wedding.  I think I shared the honor with a niece who really wanted to catch it.  I held her and we caught it together.

I won't bore you with the third, fourth and fifth bouquets I caught.  Let's just say that the supersition that whomever catches the bouquet will be the next to wed is not true, and I have single-handedly proven that fact.

********

Two of my cousins got married this last week, within 3 days of each other actually.  The weddings have been beautiful.  There is something so special about attending a sealing where the spirit is so strong.  You know they love each other, that they are faithful, and that they will do their best to live the gospel.  I love seeing people so happy.  

Rich's wedding was on Saturday in the San Diego temple.  While San Diego no longer really feels like home, the temple here always will.  It was where I received my endowments and it's where I feel like my adult life really began.  The reception was both freezing temperature-wise and informal as far as emcee and structure was concerned, so when I found myself being herded into a single female mass against my will, I immediately turned and headed towards the warmth and safety of the house.  On my way there, I was harassed by my brothers, parents, and male cousins and guilted by my single cousin Jayne who was also being forced to stand in the Crowd of Shame, clumped both with the girls who couldn't get it done and the ones who were twittering with the excitement of cupcake dresses and returned missionaries (or whatever it is teenage girls dream about these days).  

"Julie, if I have to stand there, so do you."  And so I did, because I love Jayne.  Here's the only problem.  My competitive spirit.  One of the reasons I abstain from this dumb tradition now is because if I'm in the group of women, I'm going to get that bouquet, not because I want it, but because it's there and the point is to get it.  This is the only reason I have caught so many.  The problem is...it makes me look desperate.  Which I am not.  At all.  For the ten foot walk of shame across the dance floor, I had this internal struggle.  Do I go for the bouquet or do I just stand there like an idiot and not even try.  I sized up the group.  Pathetic.  I had 5 inches on all of them with my heels on.  I stood a little off to the side, still indecisive about what to do.  Rich's bride counted.  1...2...3!!!  The bouquet flew into the air.  All I had to do was stick my arm in the air.  I couldn't help it.  It shot above the crowd.  I felt the bouquet in my hands and then in an instant I decided: I didn't want it.  I took my hand down.  Some 16 year old sister of the bride caught the bouquet.  She was ecstatic.  My family was appalled.

"Shameful withdrawal of the hand, Julie."

"You totally had that! What's the matter with you?"

"[head shake]"

The truth? I don't know why I didn't just grasp it.  I think because I could feel the tension of the little girls behind me.  They wanted it so badly and I didn't care for it at all.  Plus, I had no relation to Rich's bride.  I was just some cousin.  Give it to a sister, I say.  

Today was wedding number two, my cousin Abigail, Rich's sister.  We had a great day with our families.  The sealing and reception were both so beautiful.  The toasts were moving, the daddy/daughter dance brought tears to my eyes, and the cake cutting was cute.  Then...the bouquet toss was announced.  I rolled my eyes.  For the last three days all I've heard from my family is the hand-withdrawal debacle from Rich's wedding.  Sure enough, Jayne and I were made to endure the walk of shame one more time.  We stood together sort of huddled off to the side, shooting our parents dirty looks, while the groom's sisters all stood excitedly in a group.  

"Julie," Jayne said, "I really don't want to catch this, but I think you should."

"Why me? She's your sister.  I think you should have to catch it."

"No really.  Please catch it."  

"Seriously, Jayne.  I really don't want it."

"Please?"

I told her I would at least reach out my hand in committment this time.  

Abi counted.  1...2...3!  It was headed straight for the group of sisters.  But the flying orange and white was too much for me.  The girls were just standing there, waiting.  Because I refused to make any grand gesture to strip these girls of the bouquet, I stood exactly where I had been and reached my hand up and over.  And waited until the last possible moment to snatch it out of the air.  And snatch I did.  In fact, I snatched with more force than I meant to; a couple of flowers were lost in the effort.  

It was actually kind of fun to catch the bouquet of someone I loved so much.  And it's always fun to win.  :)

4GB of RAM. Take that.

I finally broke down and bought a new laptop.  I told myself I wouldn't buy a new one until next year at the earliest but I have secretly been shopping around for the last few months. The decision was ultimately made when it took me a full 2 minutes to open my iTunes to play my brothers a song.  This may not seem like a big deal, 2 minutes shouldn't justify a multi-hundred dollar purchase, but it was indicative of a larger problem.  I could only run one program at a time if I wanted my computer to play nice.  Blogging was becoming increasingly difficult as my processor seemed to be stuck in molasses mode.  Defragging the hard drive had stopped working.  I was simply out of disk space and working with a processor that had simply run its course.  

So last week I braved the dreaded Fry's.  

Fry's = geek heaven.  It's actually a great place if you have money to spend.  If you don't, it's the worse tease of a store there ever was.  For those unfamiliar with Fry's, it's bigger than Costco.  No joke.  It was an old Incredible Universe store/warehouse, so the store is ginormous and they've filled it with every possible electronic you could want or dream of.  Displays of high-def televisions, Blue-ray players (I can't tell you how much I want Planet Earth on Blue-ray), washers, dryers, mixers, mini-laptops, sound systems for your car, house, bedroom, computers...the list goes on and on.  I went in focused: all I wanted was my laptop.  They had the one I wanted for a really good deal.  All the brothers and Dad came, which meant it wasn't going to be a fast trip.

Sure enough it wasn't, but it was okay.  It was actually fun to stand in the Bose demo room and try to talk my dad into buying a new sound system for the family room.  And to sit in the plush chairs and watch Indiana Jones in high-def.  The only downside was that they didn't have my computer in stock.   Ha.  So they gave me a raincheck and told me to call back in a few days.  Which I did.  No luck.  The boys "had" to make another run out there the following day.  They checked for me again.  No dice.  So I called today.  Only to find out that they had discontinued my laptop.  Pray tell, why would you give someone a raincheck for a computer you weren't ever planning on getting in?  [sigh]  I fumed internally for about 2 seconds and then asked Tom if he would help me find a new laptop.  Off we went. 

First stop: Circuit City.  Packed with customers, short on help.  Ugh.  They had my laptop, but...not in stock.  Of course.  At this point, I'm sure you're asking yourself why I didn't just order one online, and I have a good reason for that.  Because Dad has all the software I need right here at home and Tom has the skills to easily transfer all my files from one computer to the other.  It was just easier to do it here at home with the safety net of nerds.

Second stop: Fry's, to see if they had any satisfactory alternatives.  Negatory.  It was picked so over it really was a wasted trip.  And there were SO MANY SHOPPERS out today.  We couldn't figure out why people were out en masse on a Monday.

Third stop:  Best Buy #1.  Also packed.  What the?  Despite the packed-ness, we found a GREAT deal on a laptop almost exactly like the one I wanted out at Fry's but of course they were, you guessed it, out of stock.  By this time I hadn't eaten in several hours (and had gone on a long run this morning and been cheated out of the bagel I had thought about all morning [cough-Tom-cough]) and was starting to get very grumpy.  I started snapping at no one in particular.  Tom knew it was time to 1. feed me, and 2. find a computer. STAT.  The guy at Best Buy said they had my model out at the store in La Mesa.  I handed Tom the keys and said to drive me there because I was done.  He did.  Happily. 

Fourth stop:  Best Buy #2.  We walk into a deserted Best Buy.  Amazing.  We described the laptop to the salesperson.  They had no record of the model in their store, on their website, or anywhere in their system.  So they call the store in Mission Valley.  No one answered.  Why would they?  By that point I was ready to walk out of the store and eat my old laptop for lunch.  Low blood sugar really isn't good for me.  My brothers like to say "feed the beast" when I get like this.  It's fair. 

Finally another salesperson overhears the drama of the non-existent laptop and solves the mystery.  Well, not so much solves the mystery as to why it's not anywhere in the system so much as points out that there is a box with that model number in the cage behind us.  Sure enough, it rings up with the specs and price we had seen in Mission Valley.  Retail really makes no sense to me at times, so I didn't ask questions.  I just purchased the computer and we walked out of the store.  Tom then drove me directly to Santana's.  I was then not only in possession of a new laptop but also a California burrito.  It takes so little to make me happy.

Now instead of 512 MB of RAM I now have 4GB, along with a whole bunch of other cool things, including an unexpected remote control that wasn't in the computer specs.  Take that!!!  

(We still have yet to actually figure out how to use the remote, but it's still cool!)

Sabbath Day Highlights

1. Most public dollar earned:

Scene: Julie at the organ at church (filling in) playing prelude music.  Tommy comes to the organ before church starts to tell me I was doing a good job (a joke from an earlier conversation).  I start practicing one of the songs I have to play, "Ring Out Wild Bells."

Tom: Julie, I will pay you one dollar if you will switch that song from minor to major and play it.  

Julie: Uh, no.

Tom: C'mon Julie, it will be the easiest dollar you've ever earned.  Just ditch the flat and add a sharp.

Julie: Uh, I'd have to add two sharps and I'm not doing it. I'm just filling in for Suzie and Zelma would have a fit if I pulled that on her during sacrament meeting.

Tom: [blank look]

Julie: What?

Tom: No, I mean just do it right now...before church.

Julie: Right now?

Tom: Yeah.

Julie: Done. 

I play "Ring Out Wild Bells" in a major key.  No one bats an eye.  Tom tosses a dollar on the organ and goes to sit with Mom and Dad.

[Just as a side note, the most public dollar I ever made Tom earn was at a pops concert on the waterfront a few years back.  There was a "donkey song" being played by the orchestra and I paid him a dollar to put a blanket over our friend's back and ride on him like he was a donkey in front of our seated row.]

2.  Dinner Conversation:

Brian: Tom, just as a word of advice, when you get married--

Tom: --if I get married.

Brian: If you get married, don't ever withhold something from your wife just because she wants it.

Tom: [blank look]

Brian: What?

Tom: Brian, what are you talking about?

Brian: Abby won't let me bite her bicep.

Abby: Honey, that's because this sweater is new and you just ate.

[silence]

Julie: I love how that's the reason she won't let him bite her bicep at the dinner table.

John: Julie, I think that's worthy of your blog.

Julie: I was thinking the exact same thing.

3.  The dishes:

Julie: Tom and Brian, I think you should have to do the dishes today.

Brian: What?

Tom: Yeah, what? I totally set the table and grated the cheese for dinner.

Julie: Yeah, only because I threatened you.  Plus, I've done the dishes like three times since I got into town and you haven't done them once.

Tom: [gives me his innocent face]

Julie: I'm calling you Dead-beat Tommy the rest of the day.

Mom: Julie, that is not nice.  I will do the dishes.

Julie: No you won't.  The boys just ate and they need to clean up after themselves. [Boy was I bossy today]

Tom: I do dishes all the time at home.

Julie: That's because you live alone.  Mom has fed you all week.  The least you can do is do the dishes once.

John: Look guys, I will do the dishes.

Julie: What?

Tom: See, Julie.  John will do the dishes.

Julie: And you will help him, Tom.

Tom: Fine.

What actually happened:  I washed and rinsed the dishes.  Abby dried.  Mom put them away. What were the boys doing?  Sitting in the living room watching clips of Brian Regan.

Birthday Magic

I turned 28 on Wednesday. It was a good day, nay, a great day. The birthday before--27--was rough. I didn't know why at the time; I dreaded it months in advance. I think maybe it was a sense of foreboding; something in my psyche knew that it was going to be a rough year. This birthday, however, did not come with the same feeling. I have actually been pretty excited about 28. 28 feels like a good, solid age. Firmly in my very adult-feeling late-20's, I have a better sense of who I am, am more comfortable in my own skin, and am surrounded by really great friends.
The day started off well. I woke up early to work on my blog posting so my mom could read it first thing. Then I opened a couple of presents my family sent. I made the mistake of opening the card Mom and Dad sent to me when it was still early. It sang VERY loudly to me. :) I about fell out of bed.

I got dressed and headed out into the misty morning with a surprisingly good attitude about having to go to work on my birthday. I ran into a good friend on the metro which added a little more bounce to my step. I didn't get much work done at work, what with all the phone calls and gchats and Facebook messages popping up. Plus, I played "hookie" during lunch and trekked back to Pentagon City for a lunch date with J who then drove me back to work. It wasn't NYC, J, but it was still fun! I felt so much love all day. Really, my birthday could have ended there and I would have been happy.

BUT.

It didn't. I came home and bought some dance music with the iTunes gift card Tommy emailed me. Then I went to dinner with a few friends. At the Palace. Kabob Palace. Of course. I received a gift of Oreos from A (a great reminder of the scandalous consumption of Oreos at Shakespeare in the Park this summer - ha!) and had a lot of good laughs as we relived some of the funnier moments of age 27.

It didn't end there either. My roommates (present and former) and visiting teacher cooked up a small get-together at my house. Very casual. VERY fun.

My parents sent me 12 days of birthday, a small gift every day leading up to my birthday. Mom doesn't like the thought of me potentially celebrating alone, so she tries to spice it up. She's good like that. Towards the end I started receiving various parts of a birthday party: balloons, birthday banner, confetti, noisemakers, a candle that sang to me and microwavable cake mix...

and....

...an inflatable pin the tail on the donkey. Which we promptly hung from the ceiling fan in the dining room. Then we started an impromptu dance party with my newly-purchased dance music until the guests arrived.

First order of business: sing to the birthday girl (who was having her birthday party in pajama bottoms and slippers. Happiness is...)

Second order of business: Play pin the tail on the donkey. This is Katie cheating.

Third order of business: have the obligatory butt conversations. This is me thinking I'm funny, but really, I'm just being an idiot.

We were a little bit confused as to how all 8 tails were supposed to fit on Jack's (the donkey's) rear end all at once so I decided to read the instructions (to see if we were supposed to remove tails after putting them on in order to make room). Turns out the back of the box's instructions gave much more fodder for laughter... And that's when things got interesting...

The tails started appearing other places other than Jack's behind.

If you look in the background of this picture, you can see the new variation on the game...we tied jack to the fan blades and, um, turned on the fan... We tried to incorporate the blindfold, but that only led to trouble. I'm waiting for Aaron's video ...

Meanwhile, the tail art continued.

Pirate donkeys. Classic.

THEN. As if my birthday couldn't get any better, we played.... THE BLANKET GAME!!

Round 1: The laughter that was going at the moment this picture was taken... Priceless!

When I said this is what I wanted to play, and even after I explained it, everyone looked at me like there was no way they would ever play this game if it wasn't my birthday. In fact, I may have even pulled the "it's my birthday" card when I got the uncertain looks people give when they're about to submarine your idea. I began to wonder if this was maybe a Bradshaw game whose funniness did not transfer outside the walls of the Bradshaw home on Wisteria Drive, but I pressed on. I wanted to play.

All it took was two rounds, according to one participant, in order to be hooked: one to be under a blanket and one to be a guesser. The game is this: most everyone goes outside the room with enough blankets, one for each person. Everyone gets underneath a blanket and then crawls out one by one into the living room and stops. A few people stay in the living room to guess who is under which blanket.

I know, it sounds lame. But it really is so fun. In fact, one participant (male) said, "I could play this game for hours." And we did. Because once you get the first few rounds out of your system and people start recognizing your body shape, you start getting creative with ideas of how to trick the guessers.

Such as tying Jack the Donkey to your back and then putting a blanket over you...

If my birthday day was a portent of the year to come, I'll take it!

Gold Star Wednesday

This week's Gold Star Wednesday is dedicated to:

Mom.

28 years ago today my mother gave birth to me, her ninth child, her second girl.

My amazing mother holding her chunk of a child (one week old)

This is what I get for being born a week before Christmas. :)

My mom is an amazing woman and deserves far more shout-outs than she gets. She is the mother of 11. She married my father at the tender age of 18. He had just finished college; she was just starting.

1965: Gold and Green Ball

They started their family soon after.
And it quickly swelled in size. She started with three boys. They were very...energetic. And cute.
All the while she remained terribly fashionable... (what I wouldn't give for an outfit like that). Mom is always good at making birthdays the child's most special day, making a cake of their choice and ensuring that each sibling had bought a present, even if it was only a box of candy.
Their small family grew even larger, though thankfully adding in one girl along the way. Some might be daunted by the large family, but mom only grew in organization. And love.
Together with my dad, she fought the good fight each week to hold FHE. We have never missed a week. Ever.
Despite our protests and occasional disinterest, we were eagerly taught the gospel, not only on Monday nights, but every day. My parents lived the gospel fiercly and faithfully.
The family kept growing, and the Lord kept sending my parents boys... (We call this picture of Mom the Statue of Liberty picture. The positioning was an accident, though it wouldn't surprise me if one day I found out that Mom had secretly positioned herself there.)
Some might be cowed into keeping life simple with so many children, but not Mom. Life was meant to be lived, even if it meant making a huge mess. She taught us to have fun and instigated most of the rowdiness in the house (or at least encouraged it, along with Dad) She also taught us how to clean up after ourselves afterwards. :)
28 years ago she was blessed with a second daughter. :) Her fashion sense didn't always get passed on to her children, however, as evidenced by the bonnet that appeared in only one of the many baby photos. Clearly I was unhappy.
However, I must have forgiven her for the bonnet. I think because it was clear we were meant to be best friends.
She encouraged all my wild behavior, my laughter, my love...
She did that for us all. That's one of the reasons we were voted "Family of the Year" by the Kiwanis Club in 1983.

One thing that always amazes me is how organized my mother was and is. How she got dinner on the table for so many every night is a mystery to me.

Chaos is the only way to describe our home during those years, but it seemed Mom and Dad thrived off of the noise of little children screaming and laughing. A bustling house was a happy house...
She took time out of each day to play with and love each of her children...And we could definitely feel it.
Everything that could be was a family affair. She made sure we supported each other in each thing that was important, such as baptisms, award ceremonies, graduations, recitals, etc. She still works tirelessly to make sure our family stays glued together. She makes sure that the glue consists of right gospel teaching. One thing I admire most about Mom is that she is unfailingly obedient, faithful no matter how angry her kids are with her or how unpopular her beliefs are. She was having a large family during the zero population years. She endured years of ridicule and scorn but she was undeterred. I wish I was as strong as Mom.
As if teaching all of her children wasn't enough, she taught the ward's children as well, seminary being one of the many ways in which she did that. She taught early morning seminary for over 12 years. I've never met a more competent scriptorian... (this picture is of her making breakfast for her seminary kids on test day--seriously...the woman is amazing)
Seriously, my mom is super-woman. When my youngest brother graduated from elementary school, it marked 25 years of Loma Portal having a Bradshaw at their school. I think by then Mom had been president of the PTA several times, had run a holiday gift shop for the children to come to in order to shop for Christmas presents for their families for years and years, volunteered in classrooms, directed the junior chorus year after year, and the list goes on and on. It was impressive. So impressive that they named the school auditorium after her. She ran that thing for 25 years. She earned it.
Mom likes to be cool. She thinks wearing sunglasses with us is cool. We let her think so. She also likes to use words like "disked" and "word?". We think she's cool because she tries so hard.
Mom was not only a spiritual educator, but a champion for secular education as well, always encouraging us to do our best (and, if possible, to be the best). :) She's a pretty smart lady, always learning, always curious, always asking questions.
She taught me that a lady should always look her best...Even though the tomboy in me bucked against this time and time again, as I get older I realize the valuable lessons she taught me about appearance and behavior. I hope I can always be as classy and appropriate as my mom.
Classy does not always mean refined, however. As a mother of boys, she was often the instigator of chaos. Such as the times she challenged her boys to wrestling matches...
Or the times when she chases them down the beach...
And falls. This night was maybe one of the funniest as far as Mom's physical blunders. As she was chasing Scott through the sand, he quickly changed direction. Mom tried to follow but ended up running almost sideways before she finally ate it in the sand. The best part was she just laid there straight as a board and laughed and laughed and laughed...

My mom is my best friend. She taught me how to love the world, how to love God, and how to love learning. In turn, I tried to show her the world. This is her first international trip.
One thing I love about my mom is how gutsy she is. Less than one year after her first international trip, she was on board with my trip to India. From a crowded marketplace in Delhi...
To an elephant ride at the Amber Fort...
To wearing traditional Indian dress...
To becoming an adoptive relative to Hitesh for his wedding...
To a camel ride in Mandawa... She was an amazing sport and adventurer through it all.
She saw me through my entire education, supporting, cheerleading, helping through it all. Cheerleading is one of Mom's greatest strengths. She has unfailing hope and believes her kids can do anything. She is always ready with words of encouragement both in times of hardship and in times of plenty and happiness. She is a natural optimist, choosing to look on the faithful, good things in life.


She deserves today's gold star and the gold star for every week throughout her life and mine. I'm so grateful God blessed me with such a mother.


Happy Birthday, Mom. I know it's mine, but it's yours too, you know, since ya done borned me. I love you. Thank you for everything.