Category Archives: the Hubs

"Do you love me?"

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If you are a parent, you will understand.


This week, my orange-hair, freckle face OS asked me a question.

“Mom, do you love me?” he inquired, partially in jest while in the kitchen. I was on one side of the island and he on the other, just so you know the logistics…

I paused, slightly surprised that he would even wonder and said, “Isaac, you have no idea how much I love you. You will only understand when you have your own child how much I love you.”

And then I started to cry. Just so you know, I am a frequent crier. Click here and here and here and here for more details.

Fast forward to Friday – We learned some disappointing news about our OS. A normal day turned dark with just a mere phone call as we received information that was humbling and sad.

A Friday evening we had been looking forward to suddenly changed and we began the arduous process of loving our child even to make tough decisions and inflict severe punishment. You do not need to call Social Services, btw.

I know the pain of loss. I have felt the anguish of shame. I am familiar with anger, ahem…But last night was a new experience for me and that’s because I wasn’t the one who had perpetrated the offenses. It was my own child. A phone call from another mother brought to light things I didn’t know and I stood there in the same kitchen, near that same island and felt like sinking into the ground. The boy I pulled out of my own body 13 years ago and have loved fiercely ever had profoundly disappointed our family.

This is the boy who surprised us with beautiful red hair and has been the delight of my soul and also my greatest parenting challenge. My last baby and as any mama will understand, I would die for that child.

As sad as I feel, I have been moved by the prayers of others who became aware of more of the details I won’t share on this blog. God’s Word has refreshed, uplifted, encouraged and given me hope. How cool is it that last night after my OS was asleep, I began to do my Bible Study and was led to read Proverbs 28:13
He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy.

Before we began the process of addressing the issue, the Hubs, Ike and I held hands and prayed. After we were finished, purging the issues and explaining the punishments (plural!), we prayed. This morning as we sadly uncovered more things, our family which included Aaron and my mom, the Hubs, Ike and I held hands and prayed again each one taking a turn and speaking to the Lord, asking for His healing touch upon all effected.

There was no cursing, no hitting, no slamming doors or threats. Considering how I learned to deal with things in my past with my own family of origin, I can only point to Jesus and His Hand in this situation. At times I found myself shocked at how calm and patient the Hubs and I were as our son’s sins were brought to light. We were supposed to have fun last night! This was NOT FUN! When the Hubs tucked Ike in to bed last night, he prayed for him. We told him we loved him and we would get through this. We assured him there was victory over these things and though he might feel like his life was ending, through Christ, he can be restored and redeemed. It is so hard to be a seventh grader, can I get an amen!


Today is a new day with its own set of challenges and mercies. I am excited to see what the Lord is going to do…



Iron Gym Commercial

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I have a blog post that is nearly ready to publish but on this, the last day before my oldest OS goes back to West Point, I have chosen to pre–empt my scheduled post.


The one thing that Nathan said he wanted for Christmas was an Iron Gym. We are such amazing parents, we not only got Nate one, but another one for the middle OS Aaron. Yes, it’s true!


After dinner last night, (and I must share with you the really awesome thing we have been doing as a family), the OS cleaned the kitchen and then scurried upstairs. The next thing I know Aaron bounds downstairs in a skinny t-shirt and a crazy wig. He had applied camo paint all over his face and created slightly lifelike facial hair. Aaron has a flair for the dramatic which is an understatement. But this time Aaron had enlisted the help of his bros. They were going to make a video about the Iron Gym.

As I was sewing aprons downstairs, the Hubs and I could hear the chatter of our OS rehearsing their own Iron Gym commercial. See for yourself and then you’ll know just one more reason why I am going to miss my big boy and all the wacky things the three of them do together.

All I want for Christmas is WATER!

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Guess what Santa brought us for Christmas? A broken water heater and valve!!! This might not have been the work of Santa but of that sinister Grinch or Scrooge. I would have preferred coal because at least we could have done something with it. Apparently Santa also doesn’t read this blog because if he did, he would know all the good will and cheer I attempted to spread onto others through apron making. He would never have done something like this if he had read my blog and seen what a wonderful person I have been lately. Hmphf.


Thanks goodness I have been on two mission trips. In Peru, I learned the fine art of dumping water into a toilet to force it to flush. In El Salvador, I learned the fine art of pouring clean drinking water into a cup and submerging my toothbrush and toothpaste into it to maintain proper dental hygiene. On some very microscopic level, and I emphasize microscopic, it has helped me salvage a bit, and I emphasize a bit, of sanity which isn’t saying much.

Here is a picture of a toilet in Peru outside of an elementary school. The orange bucket is full of water, the white bucket is using for pouring.

And this is a picture of a toilet in a poor village in El Salvador. This is actually a very nice toilet compared to what a wonderful pastor and his family used to have.


If I look on the bright side, at least the broken water heater and valve waited until our Christmas Eve company left before deciding to act the fool.

And if I continue to look at this as a glass half-full moment, than I must continue to be joyous that Isaac was feeling sick after our Christmas Eve company departed.

That’s because instead of going to a late night Christmas eve church service, Ike, Aaron and I stayed home. Isaac was trying to go to sleep but heard this annoying tick-tick-tick sound in his room.

I thought I found the culprit to the sound and turned off a few ceiling fans. However, the tick-tick-ticking continued. Being the mama of a Soldier, I thought it sounded like a bomb. Freaked me out a little. The sound was relentless and I pressed my ear to the walls trying to figure out from whence the maddening noise was coming.

Aaron saw me listening to the wall completely dumbfounded as to the source of the problem. Pressing my ear to various places on the wall, I told him this reminded me of a close family member who had suffered from mental illness who also heard things in the wall. It was one of those awkwardly funny comments and Aaron wasn’t sure what to say. Thankfully I wasn’t the only one hearing this sound.

When the Hubs and Nate returned from church, Aaron was fast asleep, Ike had relegated himself to another room to sleep and the Hubs and OS began to hunt for the sound.


That’s when we discovered that the tick-tick-tick was actually a drip-drip-drip coming from the attic and Christmas Day arrived with a very unwelcome gift…no running water. You can get batteries on Christmas Day but you can’t get a new water heater and valve at a gas station! Where’s a Jewish plumber when you need one?

We’re Day Two of this annoyance and the saga continues…ergh…

Sew sweet

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“OUCH!” the Hubs screamed from upstairs. I wondered what in the world had happened and when he told me that he stubbed his toe, I must admit, I shrugged it off. Big whoop, everyone has stubbed a toe and it hurts like mess but seriously, it’s NO big deal.


Besides I was busy sewing my aprons for unknown people for an unknown purpose and if he wasn’t incapacitated, I had mounds of material awaiting construction.

However as the morning lingered, the Hubs continued to complain about his stubbed toe. When he eventually showed it to me, it was ghastly! Dark shades of red and purple melted together on his little middle toe, ew! It didn’t look stubbed, it looked mangled! Talk about gee-ross.

So how do you know you married a good man? When your hubs traipses your handmade aprons downtown with a broken toe and tries to sell them at local stores. That’s how you know you are loved.


The Hubs has successfully passed many “tests,” – last year when I broke my foot, he proved his love for me and then there are scores of other times that are none of your beeswax when he has shown me sacrificial, undeserved love.

How many aprons did he sell? I can hear you wondering. He sold nada. Nothing. Zilch. They didn’t kick him, his fractured phalange of the foot along with my aprons out of the stores, thank the Lord! Nor did they say they would never, ever consider selling such rubbish! But did it matter to me? Heck, no!


For me it’s the humbling image of a man who believed in me enough in me that despite his discomfort, was willing to limp down the sidewalk with my aprons in hopes that he could sell them for me.

Lemme tell ya, making these aprons has turned into a spiritual endeavor. I have so much to learn and tell, isn’t it amazing how God can use the simplest things to teach us?

The idea of my sweet hubs limping through our quaint downtown trying to sell his wife’s wares is seriously a better gift than if he had sold every last one.

Living in a material world and I am a material girl

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I love fabric. Sometimes before I go to sleep at night, (and I share this without a hint of embarrassment or awkwardness), I will place different swatches on my bedroom carpet floor and imagine. As my mind unwinds from the day, I move the squares around and see the different patterns I can create. The Hubs will walk into the room and ask me, “What are you doing?” He doesn’t get it as he just sees a junky mess. It’s a fabric thing. And I have a ton of it. Yeah, I am a material girl.

This past weekend, I journeyed to one of my favorite places. Mary Jo’s in Gastonia. It is the promised land on earth for someone who finds fabric fascinating.

Thankfully Mary Jo’s is conveniently located only an hour away from some of my favorite people on the earth. I have a large extended family in South Carolina and although they alone make the trip worthwhile, Mary Jo’s is a must-stop on my emotional map. And I am equally blessed because I have two of the most awesome OS a girl could ever have usually traveling with me. The reason for their respective awesomeness is that is I have trained them on how to behave at Mary Jo’s.

The rules are quite simple.

1. Don’t bug Mom when she is shopping for material.
2. Don’t ask her when she thinks she is going to be done.
3. Cheerfully hold the fabric bolts for Mom and don’t drop them.
4. Keep annoying jokes to a minimum.
5. Encourage Mom when she is shopping. Compliment her fabric choices.
6. Smile when Mom wants to take pictures of you holding the fabric bolts.
7. Don’t tell Dad how much Mom spends.


These seven simple rules allow us all to maximize the Mary Jo’s experience. This time, as an added bonus, we also found material for the OS. Aaron and Ike both selected fabric for me to make them unique, one of a kind pajama pants for Spirit Week 2010. I can’t wait to reveal their fancy pants in the future. I assure you no one else will have these pajama pants…stay tuned sometime in February for their unveiling.


You’ve got to love a store that has everything. You can upholster your couch, make a bathing suit, sew one of those horrible, overly frilly beauty pageant dresses for a little girl, design your own wedding gown AND buy fabric of nearly every vegetable imaginable. I saw garlic fabric, eggplant fabric, grapes, corn, olives, lettuce and more.

One day I’m going to make my own dream skirt…I want to make a salad skirt, no joke. And I know exactly where to go and two of the coolest, most secure with their masculinity guys to take with me. Sorry ladies, they aren’t for rent, them’s boys are mine!

MaryJo’s + Aaron + Ike + camera + credit card = Happy Mama Sew Much Fun!

Like a bowl full of Jello

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images-1I wrote on Tuesday how I enjoyed being normal.

Then Wednesday happened and I went to the hospital with a fast and irregular heartbeat.

When they hooked me up to the monitors, my stupid heart was pounding at 209 beats per minute.

I felt faint and clammy and utterly exhausted. My moment of normalcy was short-lived.

I’ve lived with a weird heart rate since I was a little girl.

When I was pregnant with my oldest OS, I had an especially nasty bout of it, quite similar to Wednesday’s episode and was hospitalized overnight for that event.

Finally they gave my heart problem a name, it’s SVT, supraventricular tachycardia. With little warning, my heart will flutter like a bowl of Jello. I do not like gelatinous things, in particular when that gelatinous thing happens to havoc in my body.

images-3A friend called and I tried to ignore my crazy heart and speak normally. I’m not sure I succeeded though. Then another friend called and this time, I felt too weak to talk. The Hubs was having lunch with a friend and when he returned, he noticed I wasn’t any better. I didn’t complain or protest when he announced we were going to the hospital.

If you are ever looking for a quick way to be seen in the Emergency Room, have a heart problem. You will suddenly become a high priority patient.

I was quickly ushered into an examining room and before I knew it, an IV was inserted into my arm after two tries. I felt very weak and lifeless and then the doctor told me I was going to have some medicine pumped in my veins.

images-2The nurse grabbed my arm and asked me if I was ready.

Say what???

I couldn’t understand why they were asking me this, what was going to happen?

Was I going to feel something?

The nurse emphatically told me yes, I was going to feel something.

No sooner had the adenosine entered my system, then my heart rate went from about 209 to about 113 in a matter of seconds.

It’s like you’re driving fast on a slippery road and then suddenly you hit the breaks and stop.

I was blessed because the adenosine worked on the first try. I learned that this doesn’t always happen. I also learned I do not like bedpans…

I saw the cardiologist today and will try another medication to help keep my heart beating normally. Have you ever thought about how we take for granted things like a strong and steady heart beat? As of Wednesday, I praise the Lord for my husband being home to take me to the hospital and for a beating heart that’s behaving.

Happy Birthday!

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

I found this simple awesome book, “You Gotta Be Kidding!51Z2k-utL8L” 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!

974890_1_ftc_dpThen 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. 1551i-YcC+PSL._SX342_.

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.”

Feeling better – mama of a soldier presses on…

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RDay 063

We are currently experiencing a drought in our part of the country and if I had collected my tears in some type of container, (an incredibly large container), I think I personally could have solved the problem two days ago.

Today is a better day although it was quite painful walking into the house and past my son’s room. 

This picture is of the two OS and me while still at West Point featuring four items of USMA gear along with the jade necklace my friend whose husband is serving in Korea.

The last thing I want to be is maudlin so I’m concentrating on good things. 

I don’t even like the the word maudlin, therefore I’m trying my best to not be characterized as such. 

Instead, I’m going the other extreme by wearing  

– my West Point Mom Class of 2012 t-shirt with
– my West Point Class of 2012 matching canvas bag
– while driving my mini-van with the Proud Parent of West Point Class of 2012 bumper sticker
and reading Absolutely American (an amazing West Point book, highly recommend) and sporting my West Point Class of 2012 baseball cap.

My husband has – 
– a West Point Parent license plate holder
– a West Point Dad Class of 2012 t-shirt

– a West Point golf shirt

P1020552– an Army baseball cap and

– a Proud Parent to be a West Point Cadet’s Parent bumper sticker
along with an Army lapel pin.

Can you notice a theme here? Does it seem just a little over the top? Who cares! 

In some way, it connects us. I might wash my West Point Mom shirt in a couple of days if it starts to stink but I will stay in the laundry room and put it on as soon as it comes out of the dryer. Do you think I’m kidding!? I’m not! 

Despite hundreds of miles that separate us, I am tethered to my child by these small efforts.
Since I like to sew, earlier this spring, I made Isaac a pair of camo-boxer shorts and a camo-pillow case.

My nephew Josiah now has a camo-bib. I also sewed a camo-apron.

Suddenly my favorite colors are either red, white and blue or black, grey and gold. I can’t be there with him while he is learning “knowledge” or doing push-ups or making his bed with incredible speed and execution so in spirit, this is my mama’s way of showing support. 

He doesn’t know it but I do and it makes me feel better = less tears.

I cried so much on Monday that I had salt deposits under my eyes.

My two OS said, “Mom you have this white stuff under your eyes.” I went to the restroom at West Point and it wasn’t Kleenex, it wasn’t makeup, it was dried up tears. Yeah, it was that bad. 

While at the Panera Bread line today, wearing my West Point Mom Class of 2012 t-shirt, a man approached me and said that he used to attend the Sunday night concerts up there by the tip of the Hudson River. I saw that place just a few days ago and it brought me a measure of joy. I felt connected and held back the floodgates.

During this time of transition though I have to share this with you.

I haven’t been able to collect my tears and find a useful purpose for them but someone has.

It is God.

Scripture says in Psalm 56:8 “You number and record my wanderings; put my tears into Your bottle–are they not in Your book?”  

I can’t tell you how many times I have clung to that truth. If you know people who are hurting, sad or lonely, share that timeless message with them. God is recording their tears in His bottle, on His scroll.

They matter to Him. And if you see me, for goodness sake, please compliment me on my new USMA fashions, it will help this mama of a soldier!

Go Army, Beat Navy!

Check out how things are going as we now await “the phone call” and a silly way we included our NC into a little family fun!

Link to a newscast about R-Day at West Point, I wouldn’t have lasted 10 minutes!

Btw, I love all your comments and stories and want to put them in a future post. They are inspiring even to non-military folks! Keep ’em coming!

Awkward carrot

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My dad amidst his bountiful tomatoes.

My dad amidst his bountiful tomatoes.

My dad was an avid gardener and I guess I thought it might be in the “genes” as they say.

But I do not have a green thumb.

The Hubs and I are not great landscapers and do not have an eye for flora and fauna.

A while back, we decided we would try a garden.

I love fresh veggies and would take a fresh, warm tomato over a piece of chocolate any day.

Over the weekend, Mark was weeding the “garden” when he traipsed on into the house with this…probably the funniest looking vegetable I’ve ever seen!

According to the seed packet, we should have enjoyed this carrot and all its orange friends a LONG time ago. Our carrot has taken a major time to grow, to say the least

There is a spiritual connection to all this. The Bible speaks about bearing fruit, fruit that will last (John 15:16).

So let me ask you a personal question, what kind of fruit are you growing?

According to the seed packet, we should have enjoyed this carrot and all its orange friends a LONG time ago.

Our carrot has taken a major time to grow, to say the least.

How are you maturing in the Lord?

Can you see growth or development or are you in a weird kind of place, stuck in a rut for years, much like our carrot?

Do you know how long it took for this beauty to grow?

Three years.

That’s right, for three years we have been waiting for something to sprout from our pitiful little garden.

Take a look at the picture, I think it must be a boy carrot. How perfect that a mom of three SONS would receive such a treasure! We have had a lot of laughs with its most awkward shape and at the risk of impropriety, I had to share it.

But I pray you find yourself bearing fruit of a most abundant variety from your verdant figurative garden of faith and if you’re so inclined, from the literal garden the one you might be growing this season.