Happy Birthday!

2 Comments

Posted on October 30, 2008

Here are some fun things we got Ike for his 12th birthday!

I found this simple awesome book, “You Gotta Be Kidding!” by Randy Horn.

It is a crazy book of “would you” questions.

Would you rather
Turn into a fly
OR
turn into a cockroach?

Would you rather
Have no teeth and try to eat a big bowl of caramel popcorn
OR
try to eat four bagels?

Would you rather
Get poison ivy all over your rear end
OR
between all your fingers and toes?

Out of all the gifts we gave our youngest OS, so far this book seems to be the gift he likes the most.

Ike completely grossed me out as we drove to my nephew Jon’s 3rd birthday party. Anytime a 12 year old can repulse his mom is a good day. Although I can usually keep pace with my three OS in the gross department, I must say You Gotta Be Kidding pushed me to the limit. By the time we arrived, I had more than a day’s worth of disgusting questions about spit and pus. It was fun though, I think it will elicit some interesting dinnertime conversations!

Then Ike got a new CD collection of Adventures in Odyssey stories.

You should listen to this wonderful series of radio programs by Focus on the Family. Ike learns Biblical truth in an entertaining and educational way and whenever I join him, I always find a fresh word from the Lord.

They aren’t preachy or lecturing, they are humorous and truly worthwhile. You can also listen to the series on the radio with this link. Ike does this all the time, too!

And I found this Flip-to-Win hangman travel game for Ike. It is a wooden game with an erasable whiteboard and self-storing dry-erase marker. It should be cool to use when we make longer car rides and I’m hoping Ike will let me borrow this for my trip to El Salvador on Nov. 15.

Mark was out of town on Ike’s birthday but being the great daddy he is, he wrote on a card for his boy.

In the card, Mark included a handmade coupon entitling Isaac to his all-time favorite dinner.

Crab legs.

Isaac has been asking for crab legs since the last time he had them. I think if our growing boy actually paid for crab legs, he would ask less often!

So after eating pizza and birthday cake at Jon’s b-day, we went to Sam’s Club and I purchased $47 worth of giant Alaskan king crab legs. We gorged on the ocean’s delectable treasures.

Sounds like a fitting way to celebrate our sweet boy! Psalm 127:3 “Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him.”

Busy, busy

Blog referral

Habla Espanol?

2 Comments

Posted on September 29, 2008

If you saw my on the road today, you saw me practicing Spanish. If you saw me at the chiropractor, you saw me whispering Spanish in the waiting room. If you were in my house, you heard me trying to recall all my limited Spanish vocabulary or reading a Chick-Fil-A book First 500 Words Spanish. I’ve got espanol on el cerebro! (that’s Spanish on the brain!)

Ola!

Como usta usted?

Donde esta la mesa (table)? La silla (chair)? Su cabesa (your head)? (that last one is a little joke!) Also, I don’t know how to put the upside down grammar in my blog, forgive me!

With my trip to El Salvador six weeks away, I really want to be able to say a few things in Spanish. I have a French major so there are some similarities in these romance languages. It’s funny though because I was practicing and noticed that I put a French lilt on Spanish words. I sound like an American person who speaks French trying to sound like a latina and that, mi amigos, is quite a stretch. I certainly hope the folks in El Salvador appreciate my efforts and that I don’t completely make a fool of myself.

If I could do things over again, I’d be a linguistics major. Languages and words fascinate me. If only my brain were smarter! I used to be able to dream in French and fondly recall the time while I lived in France for a year in college.

I lived in Caen, Normandy, France and for Spring Break, I went to Italy and inadvertently ended up traveling by myself for two weeks (long story but one that still blows my mind). I was a junior in college, walking around Florence, Italy all alone trying to find the hostel where I was going to stay. All I had was a German map. My brain was all twirled around as I translated the German words into the Italian street signs, then translated those words into French and synthesized it all into my anglophone head. It was an empowering moment for me!

Now I find myself with another mentally challenging opportunity. My friend, Beth Anne and I will be speaking at the Evangelical University in the country’s capital in and my heart’s desire is to address our audience in Spanish, however brief. As I understand it, we will be speaking to maybe 300 upper class El Salvadorian college students about purity. I will not be able to do an entire presentation in Spanish but I would love to honor the students in this small way. My ultimate intention, however, is to honor muy Salvador, (Spanish for My Savior and Rescuer) in any language and in every way.

Pray for me as I expand my brain! Muchas gracias!

Remembering Sept. 11th

1 Comment

Posted on September 11, 2008

It was the big kick-off meeting for our Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) at First Assembly of God Church on September 11, 2001. There was an energy and excitement that morning as moms and their babes gathered together for the first time since late spring.

We were smiling and laughing. It was going to be a happy day. While driving to the church in my mini-van, however; with Aaron and Ike buckled up and safely inside, I heard that a plane had crashed and my heart felt sad. I tucked that news away in my head and focused more on the excitement ahead.

I confess I was distracted when I walked into the church and the tragedy left my mind. Soon I was addressing all the moms, welcoming them back, telling them of our upcoming plans. I was telling them that one of our MOPS moms was currently in labor when precisely at that very moment, a friend received a phone call.

She left the room and when she came back, she motioned to me and I could tell she needed to speak to me urgently. I stopped speaking for a second and listened to her whispering the most distressing news I had ever heard in my life. Planes were crashing into buildings, people were dying, the world was changing. And now it was my responsibility to tell these mommies what I had just learned.

The mood had been merry and I knew that what happened next was going to seriously change. I paused, measured my words carefully and I gave these mothers, some of whom had husbands traveling, the bits of news I knew. A sense of profound sadness and fear filled the place. Some mothers left immediately, others began making calls and our little safe haven felt brittle and shaky.

Most Americans can recall what they were doing September 11, 2001. This year feels different now because I am the mama of a Soldier. I have a child willing to defend our country with his life.

I remember when my OS was completing his application to West Point. I remember standing in my bedroom and my son reading the essay portion of the application. He wrote something about it’s one thing to say you support your country. It’s another to be willing to die for it. He never faltered in his speech but recited it with conviction.

I listened and again, I paused.

I could barely contain myself and told my boy, “I need a minute here, Baby.” Taking a deep breath, I explained to him that in order for me to hear the rest of the essay, I had to perform the Herculean task of forgetting that the young man who wrote these powerful words was once a tiny baby inside my tummy. Nate complied but I don’t think he got it. Lord willing, one day he will when Nate and his wife have a child. It’s funny how that happens, huh?

Today I look at the flag waving in my front yard and the rows of flags hanging all down my street. All is calm and we are soon going to our middle OS’s first football game. In honor of those who lost their lives in the terrorist attacks of 9/11, I’m wearing an American flag pin, even wore it to work out at the gym.

In addition, I’ve got my West Point hat on all day even though I was having a good hair day!

We truly live in the land of the free and home of the brave. I love my country and praise the Lord that I am an American. September 11th is more significant having a son in the military and I will never be the same.

Here is a list of West Point graduates who were lost as a result of the war on terror since 9/11.

Once Upon a Time

5 Comments

Posted on September 5, 2008

Twenty one years ago, on a sunny late summer day, a happy, little blond woman married a happy, little blond man. She felt like the prettiest girl in the world and everyone told her so, especially her brand new husband.

They exchanged vows and outside the church, they released balloons out into the sky. Not a very “green” idea these days but back then, it was perfectly fine. They went on a honeymoon to Portugal and Spain and spent a day in Morocco.

While there, the new bride slipped on her flip-flop and cut the mess out of her toe. It bled everywhere and the happy, little, newly married blond woman got three stitches in her big toe while in Portugal. It was the beginning of an eventful life together.

As you probably figured out, the two people I’m talking about are my husband and me. Today is our 21st wedding anniversary! It’s incredible to me to think I’ve been married this long and I rejoice at how the Lord has blessed our marriage!

My husband and I were thinking about ways we have celebrated our wedding anniversaries in the past and I thought I’d share some of the more memorable experiences we have shared together.

1. On our first year anniversary, my husband arranged for a surprise trip to San Francisco. I knew we were going on a trip but he didn’t tell me the location. A limousine picked us up to head to the airport. He had roses in our hotel room, got me a few extra days off of work and had the best time.

2. On the flip side, I vividly recall our wedding anniversary where we were moving into our first home. I was pregnant with our oldest OS and feeling pretty miserable. While my husband helped the movers bring our belongings into our brand new home, I ate pizza on the toilet in our bathroom. The lid was down, don’t despair! Just thought I needed to say that. I just ate pizza, people, I’m totally serious!

3. Then there was the time when I was six days post-partum with our second OS. Who knows what happened that day. We were well on our way to sleep deprivation and all the other associated “joys” a woman experiences just after having a baby. I’ll leave it at that.

4. When we had our 10 anniversary, my husband and I enjoyed a nice dinner out and then, to my delight, my hubby pulled out a small box. Women love small boxes. Especially if they have a shiny ring inside.

5. Cayman Islands was where we celebrated another anniversary. We saw baby sea turtles, we went to Hell, (a spot on the island) and snorkeled with sting rays. Correction, my husband snorkeled, I felt sick to my stomach under water. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful time.

6. Last year, we fulfilled a long dream of mine to go to Camden, Maine. If you ever have a chance to go there, we highly recommend it. Coincidentally we were there for the Windjammer Festival and were able to stroll along the bay and see all the windjammers return for a final hurrah. We stayed at the Hartstone Inn and absolutely stuffed ourselves with food the world class chef and proprietor of the inn created. Here is the room we stayed in! Check out the sample menu! We ate lobster, lobster rolls, fresh blueberry ice cream, I’m

salivating just with the thought of that amazing time! Scrumptious and stunning in every way!

7. And then of course, we’ll never forget the anniversary when Hurricane Fran decided to come our way. It was the night of our anniversary that the winds started howling. We lost power as a Category 3 hurricane pelted our area. It cut a path all over our town and the surrounding area. This time my tummy was full of baby #3 and I fondly recall our little family collecting together on the bed with our battery operated radio listening to the latest news. September 5th has become a very powerful weather event day for our part of the country.

8. And this year, we spend our anniversary with me in a foot cast. Not terribly romantic, huh? I don’t feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, I’m not sure that’s possible on a scooter. But I do know someone still loves me. That man I married 21 years ago, the guy who makes me smile and laugh. The guy that blesses me with unconditional love and sweet memories. Sickness and health, richer and poorer, bi-ped or scooter bound.

In many ways, we have weathered the storms of life and we have seen the rainbows. Thanks for letting me share. We’re off to scoot and celebrate this special day!

Brady Bunch Wisdom

2 Comments

Posted on September 2, 2008

It is Club Sign Up Night at West Point! I hope my son attends. I knew that the time was coming up and so thankfully when we were with my oldest OS (oliveshoot) during A-Day Weekend, I was able to impart some very sage words his way.

Don’t be a Marcia Brady

You are wrong if you think that The Brady Bunch was just a cheesy television series that ran in the 70s. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I watched every single episode, thank you very much. In my basement. With the polka dotted wallpaper. In my bell bottoms. I had a little crush on both Greg and Peter but probably not at the same time because that would have been wrong. Plus I could swing my hair like Jan. I speak with authority.

I gave Nathan that advice based on the episode was “Today, I Am a Freshman” first airing Friday, October 13, 1972. Like many awesome shows in the days of disco, it still holds great truth that even a West Point plebe can use. Nearly 36 years later, (almost to the day, give or take about five weeks), I am so glad I have remembered that particular episode.

In “Today, I Am a Freshman,” the legendary Maureen McCormick aka Marcia Brady panicked about becoming a high school freshman. She was unsure of herself and slightly overwhelmed by the new adventure. Thankfully Mike and Carol, her incredible folks, offered wise counsel and Marcia returned to school with a renewed energy. However, in an effort to belong and fit in and not feel like a square, poor Marcia joined virtually every single group at school. It was a real drag.

Since I was concerned that the same thing could happen to my son, I had to do the right thing. So about two weeks ago, while we were eating a late Sunday lunch at Grant Hall, just prior to our goodbyes, I leaned over to my son and told him, “All’s I gotta say is Nate, don’t be a Marcia Brady.”

I wouldn’t exactly say my 18 year old son seemed terribly impressed by my comment but that didn’t dissuade me. He did seem very interested in many groups and activities and as a good mom, I didn’t want him over committing and finding him the same predicament as poor Marcia.

I look forward to hearing from Nate and seeing if he heeded my advice. I sure hope so! Check out this website for more Brady info, how cool is that? Let me know if you have any other helpful advice from tv shows I can offer any of my OS, that would be far out!

Public Service Announcement

3 Comments

Posted on August 29, 2008

Warning: Portions of this post may be objectionable. They are not perverted or inappropriate but gross. Not gross as in violent or nasty but gross as in revolting and slightly amusing if you are into that sort of thing. If you have a queasy stomach or a sensitive constitution, read this post instead. Consider yourself warned. Thank you for your time.

Isaac had his first soccer match yesterday. My DH and I got into the car ready for this exciting event and the most foul smell poured out of the inside of the car. Like the smell took my breath away. It was a hot and humid day and it was almost like you could see little waves of odor emanating from the vehicle.

I waited for Mark to start the car and put my scooter in the back seat. No way was I getting into that car without some circulation. I’ve got enough to deal with with my broken foot and all. It was physically impossible to enter the car with this sensory assult. We were completely confused as to the origin of this smell, but then I spotted the offender. A small cup of applesauce was on the back seat. Apparently one of the guys left a bit of their lunch on my husband’s back seat. My nose and every olfactory particle of my being was disgusted as I plopped into the front seat. Instantly my husband threw the snack item in the trash and we began our trip. Problem solved, right? Not so fast…

We attended Isaac’s game (they won!) and immediately afterward returned to the car. We opened the car door and again, the nauseating smell returned, stronger than ever. I looked around hoping no one was too close because they would have wondered about the occupants and quite possibly called the police. I asked Isaac if he was the person who left the offending applesauce cup in the car and he confessed. We went to the grocery store and I scolded him for his carelessness. All of us were suffering because of his mistake. How inconsiderate, I fumed as I scooted among the aisles.

My husband and Ike took the groceries out of the car when we got home and the moment I got into the kitchen, for the third time in less than two hours, that despicable, wretched smell had somehow followed us into our home. Ike was going to get it good, I thought to myself.

Even though it was dinner time, I told my DH that I wasn’t sure I could even stand to be in the kitchen. I am known for having a very sensitive nose but even Mark could realize our house stunk. So with unmatchable strength and courage, we began smelling the grocery bags. I even told my husband, “praise the Lord, I’m not pregnant, because I’d be losing it all over the place!” We counted our blessings indeed.

First we blamed the baby watermelon but when we moved the baby watermelon to the dining room, it smelled perfectly fine. Then we blamed the pork butt we had just purchased. Surely the name of that cut of meat made it suspicious but alas, when segregated, it was in no way repulsive. What was going on? What smelled? Who smelled? What were we going to do? Ew!!!

Mark got to the last grocery bag and nearly lost his lunch. His head jerked

back, his nose turned, he grimaced and nearly dry heaved. At last, he had found the culprit! “Ugh!” he exclaimed. “It’s the chicken you bought!”

“I didn’t buy any chicken today,” I replied…

Then a moment of vomitous reality waft over me. I had bought chicken TWO days ago…

The seemingly innocent package of chicken breasts had been baking in my husband’s trunk for two days! How did it smell, you ask? Are you sure you really want to go there? (Here comes the gross part) Ok, well imagine spoiled milk, broccoli, French cheese, baby diapers and death all rolled up into a package of chicken and you have a mild idea of what we were dealing with. Please forgive my careless reference to French cheese. (Having lived in France and having eaten quite possibly hundreds of pounds of French cheese, I feel like I can say this with a measure of expertise and without criticism to Camembert and all my French friends who enjoy it.)

With record speed, Mark ran those rotting chicken breasts to the outside trash. Our house smells returned to normal, hallelujah!

I was looking for someone to blame and it turns out that it was an honest and innocent mistake. The applesauce was innocent. So was my son. And the watermelon. And the pork butt was cleared of all charges despite its dubious name.

Morals of the story:

1. Be careful to look for someone to blame, maybe there isn’t anyone to accuse.

2. Be slow to judge and quick to offer mercy. (We ended up laughing about this after the problem was solved.)

3. And finally, and please folks, write this one down and learn from my family.

Meat left in a hot trunk for two days smells absolutely disgusting. Sometimes those are tough and stinky lessons to learn on a hot summer day.

Brother Time

8 Comments

Posted on August 27, 2008

Before Nathan went away to West Point, a family friend gave our son an incredible graduation gift.

Ron, who is a husband and father of two, sent our son a framed copy of a quote by Abraham Lincoln, which by itself was a pretty awesome gift for a guy who loves history. But it was what Ron included in a card that deeply touched my heart. My husband’s high school buddy gave our son $100 cash.

What 18 year old kid do you know who doesn’t like cold, hard cash? Sah-sweet!

However, this bounty, wasn’t for Nate to spend on himself, according to Ron’s note, the money had one intention. Our son was required to spend that money creating a special time with his brothers. Ron also specified that this was BROTHER TIME, not mom time or dad time. I jokingly offered to hang out with them and Nathan quickly rebuffed that idea. You should have seen the excitement Aaron and Isaac had imagining doing some cool stuff with their oldest bro.

My son received many wonderful and generous gifts from family and friends. I do not want to minimize the kindness and love people poured into them, they are worthy of many blog posts separately. It’s just that I had never heard of anyone, in particular, a guy, thinking about investing in brotherly memories.

The guys went a movie, Indiana Jones (which wasn’t that great, btw) and out for lunch. Oh, how I would have loved being in a nearby table and watching my three ka–nuckle heads yukking it up. With the $100 my three sons went fishing and bowling. The guys went to Chick-Fil-A and grabbed some ice cream. As the day crept by when we were going to have to say goodbye to Nate, these moments became lasting treasures.

Forever, I shall remember Ron’s generosity and creativity. I was as blessed as my boys and I didn’t even have a handful of popcorn or a lick of that ice cream. I think it’s every mother’s dream to raise children who sincerely love each other and so far, that is proving true.

I’ve included a video of their bowling “match” and a few pics of the guys who were together days before Nate reported to the United States Military Academy and when they hung out as brothers on A-Day.

“How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity!” Psalm 133:1

If you are ever in need of a special high school graduation gift, consider this one, folks!

Scooter @ West Point

6 Comments

Posted on August 25, 2008

There wasn’t a happier mama with a broken foot on a scooter in New York on Saturday, August 23rd. That’s the day I got to see my boy who graduated from lowly new cadet status to plebe at the United States Military Academy. I, along with my DH, mom and two younger OS saw Nate along with over 1200 of his fellow new cadets join the rest of the cadre in a memorable ceremony. It was a sight to behold. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Saturday morning, my Soldier marched by me and it nearly took my breath away to see him in his uniform and white hat. My chiseled chin, steely eyed son marched by me and I was so pleased to recognize him in the sea of white and gray. “There he is! There he is!” I cried to my family. Like a badge of honor, I was thrilled that I, Nate’s mom, saw him first. Thanks to my

handicap, we didn’t sit in the bleachers and caught a closer look at him as he walked on by. Also, thanks to my handicap, we got a sweet parking spot so I had that going for me. HA!

June 30th is the day that I will always remember as one of the toughest days of my life. Saying goodbye was so intense. But August 23rd was one of the proudest because my son accomplished something most people will never understand. Surviving Cadet Basic Training aka Beast is very significant, I wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes. But my boy did it, praise the Lord!

When I saw my Soldier walking toward us after the ceremony, I wish I had had wings instead of a scooter because I couldn’t get there fast enough. I was peddling on my good foot as fast as I could. Good thing no one was in the way because I would have run them over. After six and a half weeks, having my son’s arms around me, hugging him tightly, kissing those cheeks, I was proud and overjoyed. At long last, I could see him, touch him, spend time with my beloved child.

We took him back to the hotel where Nate put on some civies (regular people clothes) and then fell asleep. There is a lot of stress as a plebe and I think he needed some downtime, a chance to decompress. When you are a plebe, feeling like a human being is a luxury.