More Pregnant than I've Ever Been

Geiser Pollman Park, Baker City, OR
35 weeks and so blessed

Wow, I really haven't documented life lately. I like to think it's because I've been out actively engaging in it, but that wouldn't be entirely true. What I've been doing is trying to put words to all the excitement, fear, and "bigness" (for lack of a better word) of preparing for a child, encountering new physical limitations, and growing in my career. And as stressed and freaked out as I get about it all, I have a constant sense of peace and feel so very blessed.

To date, we have been given boxes of clothes, baby gear, blankets, and books from my cousins whose children are all past toddlerhood. Two of my cousins blessed me with their maternity clothes so I haven't bought anything except for the outfit I'm wearing in the maternity pictures (which isn't maternity and super comfy). Their generosity brings me to tears.

We've had four showers - one in California with the family, one with our West Side friends, one in my hometown with my family and dear friends, and one on the East Side with extended family and friends. Little Girl has been bathed with so many well-wishes and love I get more excited to introduce her to all the people who loved her before she was born every day. Kid's pretty blessed as well.
 

Lovely baby afghan my other mama made Little Girl
Not pictured is the matching hat, which is adorbs

I seem to have hit the stage in pregnancy where everyone expects me to be uncomfortable, grumpy, and ready to be done. I have some discomfort here and there, but mostly I'm just really happy and really excited. Also, I have a work project that needs to be finished before she arrives. I love the picture of Jason and I looking at each other around the tree cause it sums up the last 9 months so well - we're joyfully walking the path before us and enjoying (nearly) every minute of it. (Pregnancy hasn't been a piece of cake, but I know as rough as it's been at times - nausea, sickness, GD scare, constant heartburn, exhaustion, etc - it could have been worse.)

Watching Jason put together the crib (I helped towards the end, which was quite the hoot as I kept losing tools cause I could see them around my belly) and arrange the nursery has been so fun. He picked out her dresser and refinished it. We recently bought a cabinet/hutch combo at Goodwill for $5 he will also be working on. He's been way more industrious than I have and for that I am very grateful. He's an organizing whiz and has come up with some great storage solutions for the nursery/office. Last night Bryan and Crystal came over to help organize and move things around and I am so pleased with the results.

We still need to pack our hospital bag, install the carseat (Jason got the car detailed yesterday which was much needed, but did delay the installation), go on a date, and pack Little Girl's coming home bag, but feel like we're as ready as we're going to be and the rest is just little things. (Besides the carseat, I realize that's a big deal.) 

Grandma and Grandpa will be here next week and I'm so thankful they'll be nearby to help out when Little Girl arrives. Aunt Deb will be visiting the weekend of the estimated due date, so I'm praying Little Girl chooses to arrive then as it would be so special to have my aunt with us. 

So, all in all this whole post could have been summed up like this: I am blessed, I am surrounded by love, and I am humbly accepting this new path we've been set on. Little Girl, we are so excited to meet you!

The Power of Stories: Part I

It's the eve of my fifth anniversary. This Friday, September 7 is so very different than that one in 2007 I remember so fondly. The one where I was surrounded by family and friends, wrapping up wedding details and celebrating another milestone - my Aunt Pam's 50th birthday. Above all, I was looking forward to committing the rest of my life to a man who had so unexpectedly come into my life three years prior and for whom I was so utterly and completely head over heels for.

Five years isn't such an extraordinarly long time in the grand scheme of life, but it is a major milestone. We have endured nearly every aspect of our vows with grace, thanksgiving, and sometimes a lot of self-sacrifice. In this new season of our marriage I can reflect on the day we took our vows with such promise, and a healthy dose of naivete, and recognize a pledge taken in faith sometimes means you're agreeing to stay true through things you couldn't ever have imagined. I think if someone had told me that then instead of a month ago I may have run in the other direction. It is probably for the best we can't see every trial our relationship will face "til death do {us} part."

I am becoming the family storyteller. The keeper of the stories of our family's trials and triumphs. Some of the stories are hard to hear and some are inspiring or just plain silly. I believe it is so important to pass those stories on, even the ugly ones, so the next generation knows they are not alone and others have gone before them and come through stronger. Those are the stories I so desperately need to hear while I am writing this difficult part of my own story. 

There is power and freedom in being an active participant in your story. Sometimes things happen that you would rather not share, but most times those things you don't want to share end up having power over you. When you tell your story you take control of it. The stories of better times hold us together when we're going through the muck and remind us where we've come from and when we reach the other side of it we can point to that time and say, "We did that, we made it."

It's our stories that can bind us or tear us apart. They are also the legacy we leave for the next generation. It doesn't do any good to keep them locked up.

To Do Now or Later: Traditions

I'm a sucker for traditions. Yours... mine... those of people I've never met, doesn't matter. I enjoy reading about traditions and then figuring out how to incorporate them into my own if it's feasible to do so.

For the last seven years, one of our traditions has been to alternate holidays with our families: Thanksgiving in Baker, Christmas in San Diego, then the following year Thanksgiving in San Diego, Christmas in Baker, repeat. This has worked out really well and we always know what to do, where we're going, and what to expect when we get there.

This year, however, the family unanimously decided it would be best if we stayed in Oregon for Christmas and come to visit later when flights are more reasonable. While it's nice to not have to make travel plans or cry over plane tickets and ridiculous surcharges, I am feeling a bit lost. This has led to many conversations about making our own traditions.

While we have incorporated some of our families' traditions - I am making the Bentley brisket for the Monday Night Posse Christmas party on Monday and always fill stockings to overflowing in true Henshaw fashion, for example - we have not really made our own as a couple.

That's not to say there aren't things we do every year - like get a tree as soon as our schedule and finances allow, watch ELF, and buy a picture frame ornament to mark a moment in the last year (something we've been doing since 2006, the year before we married). We just don't have anything that's really ours.

It's a little late this year, but we are talking about traditions we want to establish now and then can modify or add to when we have children. This came out of a conversation in which I said something to the effect of, "I have lots of traditions, we just can't do them until we have little people," and Jason replied, "Stop trying to write me out of this! I want to be part too!"

I was a bit convicted by that statement. I am one who gets quite annoyed when people say, "When we have kids we'll x, y, z," or, "We're not going to do that until we by a house..." (within reason, of course there are some things you can't do until an earlier requirement has been filled), meanwhile life is happening now and they are missing it waiting for the next thing.

When we have children, they'll be around for 20 years; the time we have now is ours and I want to spend it making beautiful memories with my husband. That'll make Christmases with babies all the more sweet.

What are your traditions?

As long as I'm at AMC, this may well become a tradition.

War Wounds

"And you know what the worst part was? He was one of the Army guys who just got back [from Iraq on Tuesday]." 

My brother's voice reverberated in my head as I drove through the back roads and geological wonders of central Oregon, racing towards my first home. My weekend plans for a run with my BFF in Bend, shopping, and picking up our anniversary project from the ceramic shop cut short by a 7 am phone call. A night in the ER, seven stitches total, missing teeth, possible jaw fracture. The Flag didn't drop to the ground and neither did he.

The story I had heard played over in my head, despite Safe Haven audiobook on level 15 volume trying to drown out my sobs. A night with friends, two beers, visiting with the bartender who used to be our neighbor, leaving at 1 am for home. Hearing a crack as he left, turning the corner to see what was going on. Then it happened.

My brother, full of righteous anger, grabbed the Flag from the ground, drenched in urine, started folding it, and asked the guy who the f *ck he thought he was pissing on the American flag. The "kid" rose to the challenge and asked Bobby what he knew about the damn flag. My brother told him he was a Marine for six years, fought for the flag, had friends that died for the flag, that he almost died for it, so who the hell was he. He was one of the Army guys, young, just returned from Iraq. Then the kid charged.

My heart caught in my throat again as I remembered that part of the story. "You know what the worst part was? He was one of the Army guys who just got back." My brother and I had started sobbing three hundred some miles apart. "I couldn't hit him. He was my brother. He was wrong, but he was my brother. I took three to the face like a champ, never hit the ground, and had a death grip on the flag. I should have killed him, and I would have gone to prison and I'd be okay with that, but I couldn't even hit him back."

At first, in the confusion, the crowd had held my brother back, but when the fourth punch landed they realized there was only one aggressor in that "fight." The kid walked away and Bobby went back inside to wash his hands. Then he caught his reflection.

Three missing teeth, one barely hanging on, seven stitches total, possible jaw fracture and oral surgery, liquid diet. And one heck of a swollen lip. He never raised a hand to the kid who obviously had war demons of his own. The Flag didn't hit the ground and neither did he.

***

Author's Note: I wrote this post a number of ways on my four hour drive on Sunday from Bend to Baker. I cried a lot and I cried more remembering the pain in my brother's voice as he told his story. In the end, I decided to leave out the commentary in my head on lack of veteran support and reintegration and tell the story simply as it played in my head. What struck me the most on the drive home was until this point my brother's war scars had been mental. Now, a civilian for a month, he received some very physical war wounds on the street of his hometown, from a fellow soldier and veteran. That is the part that hurts all of us the most.

Summer of 26

It's been an adventuresome few months in the Bentley household. I'd like to say I will fill you in, but considering the chaos my life has been for the last few months I'll probably never deliver. To top it all off, I broke my camera the same day my dear friend delivered her first child, so photographic proof of my life has been nearly nonexistent as of late. Here's a few pictures to bring you up to current day...

Holding 3 hour old Ezra Nathaniel, first baby of my dear friends on June 3.

Halfway through Run to the Ruts 5K in Baker City. Happy 26th birthday a few days late to me! It was seriously the best (and most difficult!) 5K I've ever done and it's not entirely because I'm biased.

Crystal and I after the 1st Annual Run to the Ruts 5K my daddy organized at the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center in Baker City. The goodie bags were over-the-top awesome, those shirts we're wearing are women's tech and the race fee was $25 to name some of the highlights. Never mind the gorgeous views and breakfast burritos.

Trying to hike to Strawberry Lake.
I found the trail - notice how I'm three feet shorter than everyone else?

Speedy Turtles at the finish line for Cascade Lakes Relay. CLR is a BEAST!!!

My Aunt Deb came to visit and we hung out. Good times.

Baby sister got married on August 13. She's really tall.
(Yeah, we don't know what Jason was doing either, but this is so going on the Christmas card.)

Word from Japan

We received more news from our cousins in Japan. A word from Erik describing the conditions and specific needs...

Yoko & Erik - May 2007

Thank you for your continued prayers. There are several specific things you could pray for. One is God's peace on us. We continue to experience aftershocks, and some of them have been quite close to where we live. Here is one now! It is just off the coast from us about 50 miles/ 80 kilometers and measuring a 6.0. If you are not familiar with where we are; we are in Narita which is east of Tokyo and west of the coastal city of Choshi. Narita is home to the main international airport for this part of Japan.

Another prayer request is for us to be lights to those around us.

Lastly, please pray for the nation and the monumental task of rebuilding that lies ahead.

The nuclear plants to the north of us continue to fill the news. It appears that they are being honest with the current situation and not trying to down play it. We are a pretty good distance to the south from them, but we are told to be aware of any wind out of the north. They don't want people outside any more than they need to be.

Rolling blackouts have started in order to conserve electricity. We have been told that we would have them each day since Sunday but have not experienced one yet. The latest notice is that we are scheduled to have one tonight. Gasoline is being rationed, some stations are only allowing people to buy 10 liters or about 2.5 gallons at a time. One station near us lets people buy 3,000 yen worth of gas. At 140 yen a liter, you don't get a whole lot.

During they day, we have been hanging out in the "kids' playroom" in our apartment complex. It is on the second floor which doesn't move as much as our 9th floor apartment. Our building has 15 floors, so those at the top must be getting quite a ride.

Jason, Sarah, & Nike at Erik & Yoko's wedding.

Sarah (Erik's sister, our cousin), is doing well. She is planning on visiting us this weekend, but we are not sure if that will still happen or not. Yoko's family is safe, and we have heard from all of them.

Maika (their baby, less than a year) has been great through all of this. Thankfully she does not know what is going on which eliminates any fear she might have.....

My friend, Yoshimi, and her four-year-old left to be with her family in Japan today. The family is home now and are still anticipating her brother's wedding next week. They all could use some happiness in light of the tragedies.

Thankful Thursday: Little Brothers

Dear Little Brother,

20 years ago, and maybe even in the last 10, I never would have thought we'd end up as good of friends as we are. Talking to you or getting a funny message from you always makes my day. I appreciate that we can always pick up right where we left off and you always seem to get me. You're the best little brother in the world.

To the moon,
Nike

Generations

Family is incredibly important to me. I have been blessed with a close-knit, without being overbearing, family and I am often reminded of just how amazing that it.

My Aunt Deb stayed with us this weekend before flying home to Illinois. She hung out at the Washington Square mall while I attended to my housecleaning job. When I called to tell her I had finished she told me she was sitting with Aunt Lou at the mall.

I live about a mile from my great-aunt, but they are always on the go and so are we so we have not gotten together since we moved here. We see each other at family functions and I often see their car driving down the road. It was so nice to sit and listen to my aunts talk about marriage, family, raising kids, etc. Things that I have very little knowledge on, but enjoy listening to.

As I was listening to the wisdom that comes with 80 years of life and nearly 60 years of marriage, I looked over at Aunt Deb and how intently she was listening to Aunt Lou. It suddenly struck me that there were three generations sitting at the table. My Aunt Deb who is my best friend and mentor, and her aunt who has been her mentor and is also my aunt. This is my family and even at 25, er, especially at 25, I still have so much to learn from them.

When Aunt Deb and I left we talked about how much wisdom Aunt Lou has and how helpful it is to hear advice on life and the situations we are in now from the perspective of someone 20, 30, 50 years removed from it. I told her how fitting it was for Aunt Lou to urge us to live "real" lives, have real discussions about thoughts and ideas, and to be honest with people about how we're feeling considering my current state. I also shared how I was completely overwhelmed to be sitting with my two aunts and all I have to learn from them. Aunt Deb replied, "Whenever I'm in those situations I think, 'This is my family. This is who I come from,' and how amazing that is."

I love my people. I am very much a family girl. I hope one day I can share this same experience with my Aunt Deb and my own, God willing, niece. I look forward to seeing the growth in myself, and my aunt 25 years from now.

Secret to Success

I'm clearing out my work e-mails and came across this old "Monday Morning" e-mail. I send Monday e-mails to my team every week to get the week started and keep important deadlines/events top of mind. This particular e-mail was unusually chatty - covering a range of activities including the poor quality of riding at last year's Buckaroo in Baker. Before I list the week's events I give an inspiring quote. Here was last year's July 20 inspiring message... 

I found a William Faulkner quote that echoed a conversation my sister, Jason and I had with Dad and his coworker yesterday. The coworker had asked which one of us was the perfect child (it was me) and Dad insisted that we were all perfect, we just all did things completely different from one another (obviously he didn’t want to hurt Jill’s feelings and Bobby wasn’t there to defend himself). Basically, the conversation became one of the secret to succeeding in life is to identify the weakest link and be better than “that guy.” William Faulkner puts it a little more elegantly:  

Don’t bother to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself. 

William Faulkner either didn’t have siblings or was the perfect child and knew it. ;-)

Remembering the Fallen

It's Memorial Day 2010. This day has always held a special place in my family's traditions. For as far back as I can remember we always attended a Memorial Day service at the cemetery in the veteran's section. The area lined with white headstones depicting rank and service dates of the fallen. It has always been a special time of honoring our veterans and remembering the ones who didn't come home.


When I reached middle school, Dad began taking me to the cemetery with him before the morning light to help set up the Avenue of Flags.  There are few things I have found more moving that taking the flags one by one, reading the names on the tags, hoisting them onto the pole, unfurling, then saluting. There is nothing more beautiful than seeing more than 500 flags flapping in the breeze as the sun rises over Baker Valley.

Four years have passed since I last helped ready Mt. Hope Cemetery for the Memorial Day services. Every Memorial Day that has passed since has left me feeling like something is missing. I guess some traditions are so fully ingrained we truly miss them when we don't participate.

What has not left me is my love and appreciation for our veterans. We may never know the sacrifices some have made or the burdens they carry now. Today, I honor you who have served and bow my head in respect for those who didn't come home. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

A new flag comes home to Mt. Hope Cemetery, 2008

RIP Donald David Wroe - Special Forces, 1950-1952, Korea

Family Funny

This post has little point other than preserving this memory for prosperity....

Last night I left my phone downstairs while I laid in bed reading. The phone rang and it wasn't a personalized ring, so I let it ring and kept reading. DH went downstairs and brought my phone to me and told me Grandma had called. I said, "Random, they never call me." (My grandparents "never" call me because I call them nearly daily so they rarely have opportunity or reason to call me.)

Curious, I listened to the message. Grandma's messages are the best as they usually include something like, "Bob, is this on? I think I got the voicemail... Nike? This is your Grandma...." (I have the most adorable grandma on the planet.) Last night's message went like this, however, "Nike, this is Grandma. We're having a discussion about what year you were born. Please call us."

(My grandparents have been married nearly 54 years and are both pretty stubborn. Thus my oft referenced "Henshaw stubborness" or simply "Henshaw blood." If they were calling me to settle something it had probably gotten heated.)

I called and Grandpa picked up the phone and I said, "So, you forgot what year I was born?" He replied, "No, you were born in '86," and I said, "No, I was born in 1985." We had a quick conversation about why on earth he had '86 on the brain. "Well, didn't you have an e-mail with a number at the end?" "Yes, it was 85." We talked about fishing and whether or not Dad was going to visit them now that they're at Philips Lake. Then he passed the phone to Grandma.

Grandma was quite pleased to say the least. Cause she was right. 

Goodbye, Christmas

Christmas is my favorite time of year. I love the spirit. I love the snow (which unfortunately causes much chaos in the Portland Metro area). I love trees, ornaments, presents, and eggnog. Today I went snowshoeing with some of the Monday Night Posse crew and was informed the holidays were over. This makes me a little sad. So here is my quick tribute to the 2009 Thanksgiving and Christmas season, as due to unforseen circumstances, I don't have pictures of the 1st Snowshoe Hike of the season. Oops.

Cook/Henshaw Cousins with Children & Significant Others
Thanksgiving, Santa Rosa, CA

Thanksgiving Revisited
December 4, 2009 - Bentley Chateau

Claire just might be the original Grinch, "Yay. I haz moovees."

Bentleys, Christmas 2009
(Not Jason's favorite Christmas idea. I love it, though.)

Santa visits the California Bentleys. Not the most flattering pictures, but my sweater did win the Ugly Sweater Contest. The picture does not do justice to its ugliness.

Yeah, it was a pretty good season.

What Brothers Are For...

My best friend is 16 months, two weeks, and one day younger than me. And I used to hate him.

My first introduction to him was when he was in his seventh month of residence in our mother's womb. Mom called me over to sit in her lap and I was instantly assaulted with a swift kick to the backside. He may not have been ready to come into the world, but he could have given Chuck Norris a run for his money. I wasn't sure I was going to like this new addition.

Grandpa recently told me that Bobby was quite possibly the most beautiful baby ever born. And it's a good thing he got so scarred up early on, cause he was just too pretty. One of the many scars on his face I helped him achieve. (That'll teach him to try and answer the phone when I've already stepped onto the step stool...)

It's funny what changes as we grow up. The boy that used to make my blood boil with anger has become a man that makes my heart swell with pride. The one I couldn't wait to get away from has become the one I miss the most.

I was a mixture of pride and nervousness when Bobby announced he was joining the Marine Corp. One deployment down and another one at its inception, I know he is one of the best. But that doesn't make another deployment any easier to accept. (Especially one that landed him on a plane a week earlier than scheduled. Darn military schedules.)

I heard Dean Brody's song "Brothers" a few weeks ago and it made me cry. Now it makes me cry and laugh cause I can hear so much of my own brother in the lyrics. I spent a lot of our childhood and early adulthood (cause we're old 20-somethings) trying to protect him and our sister. I'm learning to let go, but I also now know he spent a lot of time trying to protect us as well. I know he'll never tell me everything cause he doesn't want to burden me, just like I won't cry until after I've hung up the phone, but I know he always has my best interest at heart. And maybe in the end that's what brothers are for.