



Aaron and his study buddy Brianna were prepar- ing for an up- coming test. I was in the kitchen minding my own business. Making a delicious and nutritious dinner while simultaneously listening to their conversation, you know, the things all good mommies should do.








The next morning Isaac woke early. After he put his Wiggles t-shirt on, I placed him in the tub and began lacquering his hair. A thin film of powder covered his head. Before my eyes, my sweet 12 year old son had turned into an aging Wiggle. I gave him some dark eyebrows with my eyebrow pencil and once he got the blue plastic recorder I bought at the Dollar Tree, Ike’s transformation was complete. Ike trepidatiously walked into the sixth grade hall searching for his aging band mates. Their moms had also bought the hairspray and they all complained about the gross stuff in their hair in the corridor. 




Now we’re back to our regular school uniforms and I admit I am both relieved that Spirit Week is over and nostalgic about the fun times we enjoyed.




The suspense has got to be killing you…so far I have shared that Spirit Week in our family is a BIG deal. We take Spirit Week seriously and bring it, if you know what I mean. But what I haven’t shared is the final result.






After gobbling up the chicken manicotti, I whipped out the sewing machine for my last project, not knowing this one was going to be a real doozy.


Every year at my children’s school, there is an opportunity to ditch their school uniforms and participate in Spirit Week. It has become five days my sons look forward to from the first day of school. Spirit Week is a time for the kids to let loose, as much as is humanly possible in a private Christian school and just have some fun. Truly a rare and welcome treat.







Our family is experiencing new forms of transportation we never imagined. A year ago, we were a boring suburban bi-ped, mini-van/car/truck driving family. That has changed within a week. It is a contrast of worlds, with my son away at West Point and us here at home. Life often holds a lot of irony.




So far, Denise, Jenn, Nancy, Sharon are coming to the Pity Party! It’s never too late to join, we’re having so much fun! Woot!


A few months ago, I was interviewed for a newspaper article. When the story came to print, I eagerly read it only to discover that the writer stated that I was the mother of two sons. My heart sank. How could he make such a mistake after I implicitly and proudly told him I had three boys??? For Pete’s sake, he and I shared a moment, he has three daughters, how could he be so dumb? It took me several weeks to write him because it bothered me so much but I eventually informed him of his error. Even though the journalist apologized, the damage was done. He didn’t know how much that hurt me. I am the mother of three sons!!! I’m screaming it from the rooftops!


