an Entire Post Is Written About Bradford

Writing a post about my eldest son should not be hard, since Mark says I should write down enough of what Bradford says and does to write a book one day. Blogger was down last night, so I spent the time I would have blogged emailing some friends. One exchange was about Bradford, so I'll copy it here for your perusal and entertainment.

Jenn wrote (among other things):
Not being provoked by my eldest son is worth at least twice what I'm able to give you!

Kilby replied:
You gotta love that kid despite his quackiness. He's one of the most interesting people I've ever met. You'll have fun having him as a son when he's twenty-five.

To which I responded:
You're not kidding! and the sooner he gets to be 25, the better. Really, Mark said almost the same thing tonight. It was occasioned by Bradford's choice of sleeping spots. He wanted to sleep in our room because we have such great corners?!?!. When he was told no, he said he wanted to sleep in the hall in a corner. Mark told him he had fine corners in his own room, and he needed to choose one of those. So he did. His head was sticking out of his door, and he had moved the Pack n Play so that he was squished into the door jam without room to move.

"NO WAY", says Mark. "Find an appropriate place to sleep and get there in one minute or you'll be sleeping in your bed." [what a mean daddy!]


And Kilby's last response:
Talk about it. When I was up there, he went on and on about his love for and sensitivity to corners. I couldn't quite figure it out, but if it's carried on this long, I guess it's authentic. He kept telling me about how he can feel corners from far away, and how he could feel if they were just right or something. Quirkiness, huh? How about.....supernatural weirdness....Haha.

Yeah, do write that book, but don't make any of it up. It'll be funnier, more believable, and a better read if you don't lie just to make yourself look like an amazing mom and your household like a fairy-tale or a comic strip. I hate those books.

Besides being a bit quirky... okay, weird, he really is helpful to me. He makes breakfast for his siblings when I'm still recovering from a night of twins. His favorite thing to make for himself is Ramen, but he can do frozen pancakes, cereal, and oatmeal as well. All help has liabilities attached to it, and Bradford's is no different. When I'm not downstairs, unhealthy amounts of syrup are consumed, Cap'n Crunch may be the cereal of choice, and the oatmeal is sweetened beyond recognition, but I'm not sure that is his fault, and for now I'll take the help without complaint.

He's also really good (the only one of my boy who is) at feeding the babies. He holds the bottle correctly, and he doesn't get too impatient. Except once when he was holding Sophie so I could do something crazy like sweep the floor. I heard "she likes this roller coaster" and looked in time to see the baby being flown through the air.

Grace was and is his baby, but he also thinks all the babies are his. He delights in doing "double duty" in the van, that is, sitting between the two babies to soothe and comfort them during the trauma of the ride. (That is, by the way, no reflection on my driving--that is the subject for another post altogether)

This post was written for posterity's sake. He's irritating enough that I sometimes forget just how wonderful he can be, and often is.

Help me, God to see his good qualities and faithfully train him and work with his abilities so that he grows to be a godly man.