Category Archives: motherhood

Part Two – The room begins its transformation

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With Aaron’s room now fit for habitation, I decided that though it was clean, just being clean wasn’t good enough. The walls were pocked with holes and the room was bereft of any personality. And if you know my middle OS, personality is something Aaron has in abundance.


It was at that moment, that I decided we (as in the Hubs and Ike) were going to undertake yet another doozy of a job. We were going to give Aaron’s room an Extreme Makeover a la Wal-Mart style. Our deadline was to be finished by the time Aaron returned from a weekend trip to the mountains with a friend and his family. To my delight, everyone was in agreement.

Although I’m not a big fan of Wal-Mart and have rarely shopped in one for years, they have recently built one nearby and I must say, it is really nice. I felt certain that we could find something that could work without spending a fortune. I know better than to even walk into a Pottery Barn store, my flesh is weak enough that I’d surely find something wayyyyyy out of our price range. So the Hubs and I left the OS with the dirty kitchen to clean and found a bedspread, a rug and a few incidentals for Aaron’s room in short order.

I wasn’t sure exactly what we were going to do but then it all began coming together. Soon, the idea of transforming his room into a coffee motif of sorts drifted into my brain. There was some left-over paint in the garage and we decided to use a warm tan on three of the walls and to paint one wall a contrasting color, sort of like a dark turquoise. The once drab room was developing a personality!


Just to clarify, I must say that Aaron wasn’t a slacker. Prior to leaving on his mountain camping trip, Aaron exerted some effort into his room. He had patched up and sanded some of the holes on the walls but he wasn’t home for long to do much. Friday night the Hubs and my freckle-face, orange haired, nearly teenaged OS faithfully worked on Aaron’s room with nary a peep or complaint the entire weekend. Ike sanded, painted, even suggested decorating ideas which we actually implemented. As I looked around the house, I found things which would make the room flow even better.

Could we meet our Sunday afternoon deadline? Would the room look as cool as it did in my mind? What would Aaron actually think about the drastic changes we had made???

Ah, such a cliffhanger! I will tell you this, the whole idea was

inspired by this coffee cup…

Killing dust bunnies and other various enemies, part one

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I now know where my oldest OS got his military ambition. Some of it came from his grandpa who is retired Air Force. The Hubs applied to the Air Force Academy (declined) and was a runner-up in at the Naval Academy, so let’s say Nate’s daddy passed on some military inclinations too. But I know where most of it came from. Friends, Nathan got his warrior mentality from me.


How can I say this with such bravado? I know this because last week I cleaned Aaron’s and Isaac’s rooms. They are 15 and almost 13. Cleaning their rooms requires a Soldier’s strength.

Anyone with teenage boys knows what I’m talking about. I blithely walked into Aaron’s room the other day, not looking for trouble and I was appalled to find it an utter mess. I can’t even remember what I was looking for. But I do know this, I wasn’t looking for the huge project which befell me AND the Hubs and even Ike. For when I saw the room in shambles, it was then and there, I purposed to do something about it.


Thankfully I did not find any food. No moldy sandwiches or half-eaten candy nor did I uncover anything really disgusting or smelly. One time I found my long-lost blue bra under a bed but that was a while ago!


But there was dust, disorder and decorating disasters everywhere. I was thick in the battlefield armed only with a vacuum, a dust towel and a computer which played soothing music to distract me. Oh, how I wanted to give up but as any good Soldier will tell you, you must destroy your opponent. And that I did and then some.

In my subsequent posts, I will show you the transformation. Aaron’s room was defeated and I remain vainglorious (in a good way). Wait till you see how his room came alive!

We love you dry ice

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If you have a nearly 13 year old boy on your Christmas shopping list, have I found an inexpensive gift item for you! It’s cheap, it’s fun and slightly dangerous, what more could a nearly 13 year old boy want!

Ok, so here it is. Brace yourself, it’s really special…

It’s…drum roll, please…
Dry ice

Dry ice?? Yep, dry ice.

I wouldn’t have thunk it myself but let me attest to how wonderful you will be in the eyes of an almost 13 year old OS if you get him a chunk of dry ice. I think if Ike could prepare curriculum for 7th grade boys, it would involve only two classes – P.E. and Dry Ice. The end. Class dismissed.

It all started when the Hubs, Ike and I went to work out and on the way home, we went to buy some lettuce. Excitedly, Ike begged and pleaded the Hubs and I to also purchase a bag of dry ice.

Oh, if you could have seen the look of utter joy as the dry ice went down the conveyor belt and our bag boy slipped the chunk it into the plastic grocery bag! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen the child this happy even about ice cream!

We arrived home and Ike was eager to experiment. After placing the slab in a bowl, he went to work. In school, he learned that if you place a nickel on dry ice, it wiggles. The Hubs and Ike used a quarter and shazam, observed similar results. Then Ike marveled at the billows of cloud-like smoke swirling just above the bowl after putting water in the bowl. Another experiment involving dry ice and soap created foamy, dramatic bubbles.

He loved it so much, I think if Lebron James himself would have sauntered into the kitchen, Ike would have merely given him a passing nod, maybe a little, “Wuz up” which is saying something because Ike has already determined he WILL have a child named Lebron one day!

This past summer, Ike had a lot of fun making a brain but it smelled funny and what do you do with a mushy brain when you’re finished with it? As long as you don’t put your hand on it for long, I have learned the dry ice is pretty cool with no unpleasant odors.

Every thing about the dry ice produced a “Mom, come look at this!” moment! I will admit it was interesting. The only thing that was rather annoying was when we sat down to dinner. The dry ice had been placed on the table. We were bowing heads, holding hands and as we began to pray; gurgling sounds came rising from the bowl. The bubbling was so loud, it nearly went above the petitions we were making to the Lord! You know how your stomach sounds if you are having diarrhea-like symptoms or if you’ve had food poisoning? Well, those are the sounds of dry ice if you put a lot of water on it. Ultimately, it became so gross and disruptive, we had to banish the dry ice outside until we were finished praying and had had dinner!


For three hours, our almost teenager, played with dry ice. That had to be the best $5 I have ever spent on a child. Based on how much fun he had and apparently how much he learned about dry ice in class, I think we will be getting some again in the very near future!

It was fun seeing our boy wildly loving something as simple and cheap as dry ice. If you have been reading any of my recant posts, then you know “we” are having a lot of wild moments lately (if I could only blog about more of them!). A perfectly content, pre–adolescent boy is a thing of great beauty these days.

Oh what a beautiful day!

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I am always confused on October 8. Do I feel sad? Is it okay to feel happy? Am I a bad person if I forget? Am I not moving on if I want to cry? It’s 24 hours that I want to hurry up and get over with already.

October 8th is the day my dad died. It was 24 years ago.
But I don’t want to talk about the strangeness of the day. It is what it is and I muddle through it one way or the other. Rather, I want to share with you how the Lord smiled on this day, thanks to a magnificent day at Duke Gardens and two of my awesome OS.

Early this afternoon, Aaron, Ike and I journeyed to enjoy 55 acres of horticultural heaven. There wasn’t a place on the premises that wasn’t breathtaking and inspiring. With my guys home for Fall Break, I wanted to do something today but I wasn’t certain they would consider hanging out with me, in a garden no less, to be their version of fun. What a blessing when Aaron, my 15 year old OS enthusiastically announced that he wanted to go!

Ike brandished the camera and took most of the shots. We saw the coolest pond with remarkable water plants. I was walking to the pond when the OS motioned for me to pay attention. I hadn’t seen the blue heron directly ahead. It was perfectly motionless, as if it were just waiting for its picture to be taken. Then suddenly, it stealthily inched forward and nabbed a goldfish in its pointy beak. My orange haired, freckle-faced nearly 13 year old OS captured the moments as the heron gulped the goldfish down its skinny neck! What a sight to see! I also think we heard the heron burp!

We loved the bamboo plants, the American Beautyberry with its juicy purple berries, the ZigZag Bridge, really everything. And I just wished we had Smell-a -Vision because y’all, our noses were equally delighted with fragrances of apricot, roses and gardenia filling the air.

There are moments when being a mom is truly wonderful. If you have read some recent posts, you are aware that I have also recently experienced days when mothering has been grueling!
Throughout our two hour stroll, I had been saying that the Lord had truly blessed this day and to my delight, Aaron offered a heartfelt “Amen!” to my comments.

And I laughed when I started to complain that my rickety knee was annoying me and Aaron echoed that his hip was bothering him and Ike chimed in that his ankle was beginning to hurt! How splendid that we all made it through the afternoon nearly pain-free!

So I approached October 8 with some trepidation but saw that the Lord allowed me a joyous day far beyond what I could have expected. If you are like me, you probably have a day or two which you dread, may this post offer you a new perspective.

Rain on my soul

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Writing is often my healthy outlet for expressing my feelings. Tears stream from my face as I sit in the Critical Care Waiting Area at the hospital. My mom is having heart catherization in a matter of moments and for some reason, I am a wreck.

I feel like I’m going to lose it. My brain seems to be detached from the rest of my body. In the last four weeks, I have been to three different hospitals for three different people, one of them being myself. I drove to the hospital and missed the turn. When I came to the familiar intersection, I had to call my husband to ask him which way to turn.
 
I got into the parking lot and don’t ask me how, but I found myself driving against the arrows. When I finally pulled into a parking spot, I was completely confused. I tried to walk down a flight of stairs but they were blocked. It was as if the hospital had moved from the time I had entered the parking lot!
 
I walked into the hospital and began looking for my stepfather. The ladies at the front desk asked me if I was having any flu symptoms. I told them no and asked them if they are now having to inquire everyone about this. I didn’t ask this in a sassy way but perhaps, I sounded a little frazzled. It was interesting that they said no so I’m wondering if I was acting so weird they thought something must be wrong with me!
 
Praise the Lord a kindly volunteer escorted me to the Heart Catherization Area. I shutter to think of where I would be if he hadn’t shown me where to go.

Then I saw my mom and I don’t know why but I struggled to keep it together. The nurses were going to show her a video about the procedure and I knew I couldn’t handle it. So here I sit by myself, watching Judge Mathis, writing to you, whoever you are.
 
It is a rainy day. My dad died 25 years ago on October 8th. Maybe that’s the reason I am having a rough time…

One of those days

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I called my sister Denise last week and the sounds of one of my adorable nephews made our conversation brief. Two year old Josiah was wailing, the agony so loud you would have thought his arm was being amputated without anesthesia.


“Wow,” I thought to myself as I hung up the phone. “Am I glad those days are over!” A twinge of pity and relief waft over me as I went along my merry way.

No sooner had I taken that trip down Memory Lane when I found myself metaphorically speaking, driving down that
once familiar road. Only I wasn’t with a toddler but with my orange haired, freckle-faced nearly 13 year old OS. At the end of the day, as I tucked Isaac into bed, I was glad the day was over. Tears streamed down my face as I prayed over my boy. I was as weary as I was when he was a feisty toddler.


I’m not complaining, it’s just I guess I was a little surprised to have one of “those” days. I can never give up on raising my OS, even on days when I feel like a failure. I must be resolute in all things. Despite the drama of the day, I was grateful because I recognized that we still have more work to do in the lives of our OS. Soon I will be the mama of three teenage sons. The job of mother gets easier on some level but more difficult on others.

I don’t really consider myself a very strong person, physically or mentally but this I know with all my heart. I will never give up on this job. On the days where there is boy drama (and there is boy drama) or bad grades or poor choices, I know where my strength comes from.


Psalm 28:7

The LORD is my strength and my shield;
my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.
My heart leaps for joy
and I will give thanks to him in song.

When your son is a Soldier…

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I like being a mama. Of all the titles I have acquired in my life, the title of mother is among my most treasured. Any derivation of mother, be it madre (what my oldest OS calls me), mama (what my middle OS calls me) or mommy (what my orange haired, freckle-face OS used to call me) those names are like a song to my ears.

I am the mama of a soccer player/ basketball player (Ike) and the mama of a thespian/10th senator in student government (Aaron) and the mama of a West Point cadet and Soldier (Nate).
 
And with each acquisition of a new title, I am attuned to things which pertain to that OS. Especially the latter. As soon as my OS was accepted into West Point, my ears were keen to anything relating to West Point, the Army and New York. I admit I hardly gave a passing thought to those things previously. Those days are gone. I listen to news about the Army, Iraq, the Middle East and I have read two books about Afghanistan.

Yesterday as I was driving to a speaking engagement to MOPS (Mothers of Pre–Schoolers), I heard some worrisome news about New York City. If I were a doberman, my pointy ears would have perked up. New York City. Terrorists. Bombs in backpacks. Those words get my attention. The city is on a heightened state of alert. Thus so am I. I try to remain calm and not let fear overtake me.
 
Last night Nate and I had a conversation I’m sure we’re bound to have many times in the future. Knowing that he has some important plans in New York City this weekend, I did what any good mama of a Soldier would do. I suggested he cancel his plans and opt for a safer time on post. I also stated that not only did I think he should stay on post but his grandma concurred..

His reply, “Are you serious?” I think a part of him wanted to laugh at our outrageous request.
 
I had readied a response. “Nate, look, this is my job. I’m supposed to tell you that I’m concerned about you. I’m supposed to ask you to be safe. I already knew your answer before I asked my question but I just had to ask. I say my things and you say yours, that’s how it works.”

You can’t tell a Soldier not to go somewhere and expect him to listen to you because it might be dangerous but hey, it can’t hurt to try, right? RIGHT??? 

 I have asked moms I know to pray for safety in NYC especially on Saturday. Not just for my OS but for everyone in that city. All I know is that I will be happy when I hear my OS’s voice on Saturday evening. May it be so, O Lord.

Sometimes being normal is a good thing

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I have never wanted to be normal. I like being different. I like bright colored walls, streaks of pink on my hair, making my own chicken broth and although I have many insecurities, I like those things about me. I don’t consider myself weird or strange but also not ordinary.


That is until today. Today I found out I was “normal.” Today I found out I do not have cancer.

For almost eight months now, I have been suffering from constant hip pain. I took an exercise class back in February and I’m not sure what happened but I felt something like a tear in my hip. I had trouble walking out of the class and even to my car. I learned that I didn’t rip any tendons but I haven’t been the same since that class. I’ve been to numerous doctors, physical therapists, massage therapists, you name it and the pain hasn’t abated. I’ve had MRIs, CT scans and felt drained emotionally as the pain has traveled to my back and left hip.

A recent x-ray revealed something that required further tests. I have waited about a week to get the results. This afternoon, as I sat in the doctor’s office today by myself. I alternately played Scrabble on my iPod Touch and prayed to Jesus. When my doctor walked into the room, I barely exchanged pleasantries. I just wanted to get the news.


When she said that the tests didn’t show anything cancerous, I felt so thankful. Today I found out that I was normal. As much as I enjoy being different, I want desperately to be normal.

I realize that some of you reading my post today have been in my place. You’ve sat in the sterile doctor’s office waiting to see if your life was going to drastically change. I know some of you have accompanied a loved one to get test results and surely your heart sank when you didn’t get the kind of news I received today. I have hesitated to even write this post today because I do not want to cause anyone sadness. Please forgive me if you have heard different news and you are hurting because of me, in some small way.

I still have another medical test regarding some ovarian cysts. And I am not giving up on overcoming this ongoing struggle.


But tonight y’all, although I don’t have all the answers, I am happy that as far as certain things are concerned, I am normal. 😉 I raise a bowl of homemade chicken broth in Paris up high for being normal!

September 3rd was a very good day!

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All week long I have been anticipating writing a post about going to the hospital. I awoke Thursday morning excited to think that I was going to the hospital. I knew something good was going to happen on September 3, 2009. Normally I don’t look forward to going to the hospital but on September 3, 2009, I wasn’t going to see just a regular, ordinary person…


Oh no, my friends. You see on September 3, 2009 I was going to meet my niece for the very first time. I babysat my two nephews while their mama, (my sister) went into labor. We played, I wiped a butt, fed them lunch, read stories, watched train videos on YouTube and had a very silly time. It doesn’t get better than that! Here is video proof that we had fun in case there was any ever doubt! (I’m trying to load this onto my post, I apologize in advance if you don’t see it!)

The Hubs came with me so as soon as my brother-in-law called, I could hustle on over to the hospital. And at 2:22 pm, my darling niece, Rachel Shiloh entered our world. I was honored to meet her before she was even an hour old. I never cried at the birth of my own OS (of course I was overjoyed!) but when I saw this little bundle of girl, tears filled my eyes. Rachel is probably my only niece that will know me well because she lives nearby. It will be wonderful to see her grow and develop into her own little person. I am now AuntDeeeees to Rachel Shiloh, praise the Lord!


So that was suppose to be my blog post – as my nephew Josiah would say, “the-end!” Happy, happy, joy, joy, right???

But then my intended blog post became altered. That’s because on September 7, 2009, I returned back to the same hospital. This time it wasn’t to see my niece, it was to visit my mom. She has pneumonia and had a slight heart attack on Sunday. My mom was going to help my sister and in the wee hours of the night, she became disoriented and shaky. She was admitted to the hospital and there she remains until things get better.

It’s times like these that I am ever thankful for my faith. I am not leaning on my own understanding (Proverbs 3:5) and I’m trying not to borrow trouble (Matthew 6:34). If I get too caught up on all the “what if’s” I will be miserable (Philippians 4:6).

All I know is that today I got to see my mom and although she is sick, she is a blessing and still laughs at my jokes. And before I saw my mom, I went to my sister’s and got to hold Rachel and rub her little back. She was sleeping so soundly, her pink lips making a sucking motion and her tiny legs tucked snugly almost as if she was still in the womb. One of her arms rested on my side and yes, I melted.

This week I hope to be going to New York to see my oldest OS, my baby!. May it be so dear Lord!

Fish fear me

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Life is good, very good when you’re no longer a plebe. My oldest OS is a second year student at West Point which means Nate is a yearling or a yuk which might sound worse than a plebe but trust me, it’s not. There is almost no lower life form than a plebe. We are now proud parents of a yuk which might sound weird but it’s not…


To that end, Nate is now enjoying being able to wear Army casual clothing. He likes being called by his first name. He enjoys the freedom of going to the bathroom in a t-shirt and boxers. You gotta love it!

As a mama, it is a joy to hear about the new things he is doing. During our telephone conversations, my boy sounds like the weight of the world has been lifted from his broad shoulders!

Although the demands at West Point are
considerable; my Soldier joined a new club. He’s now in the Fly Fishing Club! Fly fishing sounds like a great way for Nate to let down his hair, (that is, if he had hair! WP requires short hair!) Being a West Point has its advantages. As an internationally renown institution, it is not uncommon to see nationally known people walking around post. During his plebe year, he spotted Geraldo Rivera, marched by the President of El Salvador, caught a glimpse of Miss USA and lately the folks at Fox News are rumored to have been at WP.

Well, professional fly fishers from Orvis came to the Fly Fishing Club and showed my OS and other cadets how to cast. To hear the excitement in his voice lifts my mama’s heart. He has big dreams of getting some waders and going trout fishing, I love it!

One OS is an aspiring thespian and musician, another OS is a confident athlete, I enjoy seeing my boys blossom. Look out little fishies, Nate’s coming after you!