Category Archives: United States Military Academy

Smiles are everywhere

4 Comments

While at West Point for Plebe Parent Weekend, we were continually impressed with the amount of things our son was learning. At this hallowed institution, it’s pretty incredible to think that our OS’s teachers know him personally and in this case, that’s not a bad thing or the exception.


We are on our best behavior as we toured the stately buildings replete with history and patriotism. I mean how can you act the fool when you have statues of Dwight D. Eisenhower, General MacArthur and other distinguished leaders all over the place staring back at you! 

But it was in Nate’s barracks, just prior to meeting his gf (and she’s quite a young lady!), our favorite plebe revealed a hidden talent, something he had learned from a fellow Soldier. 

Apparently during Beast all plebes learned to roll their socks in tight little balls. Not being content with mediocrity, however a fellow Soldier/prior service plebe showed our OS how to take his socks to the next level.


And that meant to make his socks smile. Even if Nate wasn’t able to make his face grin during Beast, his socks looked happy. 

His fellow Soldier/roommate taught him how to roll his t-shirts too. “It looks neater,” our plebe beamed. Ok, he didn’t exactly beam but we did as he demonstrated his new found talent. 

As Nate shows off his folding skills, I’m also happy to debut my first iMovie. Hope you enjoy! 

May you and everything in your drawers be deliciously joyous today!   
PS. I have no idea why the movie is yellow. Guess I’ve got a lot to learn!

I love a parade!

3 Comments

It has been a long-standing joke in my house that one day before I die, I want a parade for my birthday. So far it hasn’t happened and considering my birthday is in January and I don’t live in Hawaii, the chances are slim to none that this will ever happen. 

But since becoming a mama of a Soldier, specifically the mother of a son at the United States Military Academy, I have seen more parades than I ever imagined. And I like it. I like it a lot. (said again in my best Jim Carey from Dumb and Dumber voice.) Yes, this is the second time I’ve recently used this quote in a post. 


So if I can’t have a parade on my birthday, I’ll settle for the next best thing…seeing my son in a parade. That is cool. Really, really cool. 

During Plebe Parent Weekend (PPW), our OS was in a parade which featured only plebes. You would have never known that these were the same young men and women who arrived at R-Day with that deer in the headlights look, trying to maintain composure as they were whisked away to places and experiences unknown and nearly unbearable. For most plebes, including our OS, these young men and women were relatively new to the parade thing prior to R-Day. But they now appear to be seasoned parade professionals. According to my OS, much to his dismay, they have devoted countless hours spent marching and executing each aspect of the parade. I know everyone in the filled to capacity crowd appreciated their hard work for it made for a very impressive spectacle.

First there was the drill team. My mouth gaped open as I wat- ched the trenchant skill of these young men. I was held in thrall as they effortlessly tossed the rifles back and forth to each other. I was dumbfounded as they performed an entire routine, not forgetting a thing, flipping the rifles in mid-air, grabbing them at varied places on the rifle and without missing a beat. Just when I thought their program was done and I was getting ready to erupt in applause, they’d press on and do another five 

minutes. I can only imagine the hours they poured into this flawless execution. 

Once they finished, I began to watch for my own VIP. My son was a Platoon Leader for his company and Nate was excited because he had a saber for the parade. I peered through the crowd and was surprised to see that indeed our OS marched with a very manly saber by his side but other stuff as well. 

Nate strode out into the field with his company also wearing a very large hat with really big feathers and he was wearing a red sash. If you are not a West Point person, you might be thinking big whoop, a red sash. You might even conjure up thoughts of RuPaul, but friends, shame on you! You would be totally wrong. It’s not that kind of sash, y’all! 

Here he was during PPW, out on The Plain, and Nate was wearing the same red sash which previously evoked terror and misery to the new cadets trying to complete Beast in the summer.

The dreaded red sash was an emblem of dread and intimidation until I saw it draped around MY boy’s uniform. From afar, the red sash and I had a healing, bonding moment, I guess you could say.

I felt pride and love overwhelm me and I know I was not alone. It was palpable as each person in the crowd peered to see their beloved child. It didn’t matter if your kid was right up front easy to spot or somewhere hidden in the middle, seeing 1000 Soldiers march in unison, it felt like we had collectively birthed each one of them.  A universal feeling of delight and appreciation warmed the cool morning air. So although my dreams of having a birthday parade are far-fetched, I have no right to complain on that day when I meet Jesus face to face. He has given me, as usual something above and beyond my wildest dreams. 

I LOVE A PARADE!

My son’s new girlfriend – March 2009 NOT May 2013

8 Comments

For those of you who know my son, I’m sure this blog post will elicit a lot of interest. Nathan has a girlfriend? Who is this lucky lady??? Inquiring minds want to know!

Well before I introduce her to you, let me tell you how we first met. We had a tour of the barracks during PPW and Nate showed us his room.

He and his two roommates takw pride in the cleanliness of their room. Sparsely decorated unlike a traditional college dorm room, there are no empty beer bottles, posters and personal items filling the cramped quarters.

Nate has a picture frame collage we gave him during Beast that has an assortment of pictures of family and friends and that’s the only way you’d know it was his space.

So comfy, cozy, NOT

Overlooking Nate’s desk is a scenic view of Legion Square.

While doing homework, he sees others cadets walking to and from class and other daily activities.

He also witnesses crazy cadet antics which adds levity to the pressure-packed environment.

Water bottles jettison between the barracks. Milk cartons become white, liquid missiles catapulting in the late winter night. Fruit-flavored yogurts are hurled with wild abandon.

Sounds like fun!

But in the midst of all this bravado and hi jinks, Nate can sometimes be seen snuggling with his special girl.

What??

How can a cadet, let alone a lowly plebe hang out and snuggle with a girlfriend?

Well, it’s easy when your girlfriend is a blanket.

Nate’s gf is a Green Girl which is a West Point term for the green blanket covering every cadet’s bed.

She is the best girlfriend my OS can have right now.

She is always there when he needs her.

She’s affectionate but not overbearing.

She is low-maintenance and never jealous.

Based on this picture, I think it’s a long-term relationship.

When I met Green Girl, I liked her right away and that’s saying a lot as a mom of three sons.

I was expecting to have mixed feelings when I met my son’s special lady but I didn’t. I think this is a sign of my maturation. I knew the day was coming when Nate would have a girlfriend and I must say, I’m doing quite well.

Don’t you think they make a cute couple! We love you Green Girl, welcome to the family!

Next blog post…Smiles…learn an exciting folding technique that will surely revolutionize your life!

PPW – Mess Hall and Poop Deck

5 Comments

I look at my life as a series of blog posts. If you are a blogger, you know what I mean. I scrapbook, although not as often as I’d like and I recall just prior to taking a picture, imagining the scrapbook page I would create. If you are not into that sort of thing, I have already lost your interest. My bad.

But going to Plebe Parent Weekend (PPW) was so bloggable. Poor Nate probably felt 
like it was kindergarten all over again as we took pictures with nearly everyone who cheerfully greeted him including his teachers. I’m glad he indulged me, I don’t think he had much of a choice. 

Since he is the first child I’ve ever had to attend college, I don’t know what things are like at other institutions of higher learning but it seems that a lot of famous people drop by West Point. During PPW, we got to hang out at one of the celebrity hot spots…the Mess Hall. 


We enjoyed lunch in the Mess Hall on Saturday and as our OS gave us a tour around the facility, Nate told us that Trace Atkins had stopped by the Mess Hall the other day. Members of the Glee Club sang with him and apparently recorded a video with the Glee Club cadets that will be appearing on the American Country Music Awards show. They will be performing the song “Til the Last Shot’s Fired.” Click here to see the link. You will also be able to download the song at iTunes and all the proceeds will benefit the Wounded Warrior Project. I really appreciate this man’s loyalty to the troops and the military. I have never been a fan of country music but I like this guy and might even watch the ACM Awards on Sunday, April 5th. 

He also said that recently Miss USA visited and gave the cadets a big “huah!” Btw, huah means “I’m pumped!”, “wow” and “yes” and is often used as a verbal exclamation mark at West Point. Seeing a pretty girl not in a uniform was a sight for sore eyes. Nate also said her assistant was just as gorgeous as she was! Miss USA was on the Poop Deck. I’ll just let that sentence sit with you for a moment… What’s a Poop Deck, you ask? It’s a balcony area overlooking the Mess Hall and I guess she encouraged the Corps with her beauty and charm. I will soon be blogging about Nate’s new gf so stay tuned. You don’t want to miss it.

As we sat down for lunch, our Soldier/OS told us about how during Beast, his plate had to be a thumb’s distance from the edge of the table. Things are more “chill” (relaxed) now in the Mess Hall and that’s a relief for many plebes. 

Nate instructed us also on how the milks all had to line up in a certain fashion. Can you believe it? 


And somehow when the numbers 1-4 flash, it signifies who can get up from the table. I think this light system could have been very useful when my OS were little.  Many moms would be interested in purchasing this light system for their squirmy toddlers. 


He also said it gets frustrating when people don’t pass the food around. DUH! This I found particularly interesting because this is the EXACT SAME THING I’VE BEEN TELLING HIM around our family table for years! I can’t tell you how many times I have to ask my OS to pass ALL the food around the table. It took my son eating dinners 10 hours away for him to finally figure that out!

West Point feeds about 4,000 cadets breakfast and dinner in less than 25 minutes. 

The famous and the worldly, the popular and the patriotric, the lowly plebes and the revered firsties have dined in this nostalgic place. Wow. 


And on this Saturday afternoon, the United States Military Academy fed us, how humbling. 
We had more time than the average cadet and had lively conversation with everyone around the table. 
We enjoyed a family style lunch with other plebe parents and cadets. We sat at a 10 person table right near the giant mural which depicted many military and historic facts. The history and majesty of it all is impressive and seeing Nate in his element was positively delicious. 

PPW Peer Pressure

5 Comments

I guess technically they call it peer pressure when you do something just because everyone else is doing it. I have devoted a large portion of my life encouraging teenagers to avoid peer pressure but this time, I have to say I joyfully succumbed to the temptation. I was sucked right in and I have no problem with that. 


Sure, you could diss me and say that I had a weak moment when Stacey, my friend and fellow Plebe mom, called and told me she was getting a West Point parka and that I HAD to have one.

Or you could say that you think I deserved it. That I had shown my mettle as a mom having survived leaving her baby at West Point for R-Day aka the proudest and saddest day of my life and that in some small measure, my new coat was a tiny reward for being a WP mom. 

Honestly it doesn’t matter to me. I am now the proud owner of a West Point parka, the same kind that the cadets wear and may I say, I like it. I like it a lot (said in the same way as Jim Carey did in Dumb and Dumber). 


Here is a picture of me before I had the parka. You will observe that I was lifeless, bummed out, like there was a hollow place in my heart. Sure I was wearing my West Point Mom sweatshirt and had my Proud Parent of a West Point Cadet canvas bag, but something was still missing. 

This is me seconds after donning the parka with the USMA 2012 patch on the pocket. Suddenly the clouds lifted, angels began singing and stringing their harps, birds began chirping, you get the idea! I was refreshed and invigorated. 


In fact, Stacey and I looked so fly in our parkas that when my husband took the picture, we over-exposed the picture! That’s how good we looked!  
It was pretty special seeing so many parents strutting around in their parkas. I saw one dad with his parka and the patches USMA 78 and 2012 which means he graduated from West Point and has a cadet currently enrolled. 

Although I have been eagerly anticipating spring, I confess I want the weather to turn cold for at least a few days. That way I will have an excuse to wear my parka to the grocery store or as I go speaking into schools. 

This heavy, black wool parka itches my bare skin but I will gladly pretend to be comfortable for a little while, in the hopes that someone will notice that I am wearing a West Point, standard issue parka! If you see me up at the Teeter (local grocery store), please gush over my latest purchase! Make a fool of yourself marveling at the craftsmanship and glamour of it all. I can’t wait to introduce you to my new coat! Where is snow when a West Point mama needs it!


Men in Tights, Men in Black

1 Comment

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.


Aaron’s class had Black-Out Day. I wasn’t ecstatic about the theme since it seems dark (duh, it’s black!) and gothic but then Aaron wanted to know if I had any black tights and suddenly Black-Out Day sounded more weird than anything else. My OS would have killed me if I had taken some pics but you should have seen him trying on my stockings. At first he tried on a pair of black nylons. “How can anyone wear these things!” he groaned. 

When I saw that he was wearing nylons, like the kind I wear with a dress or skirt, I had to intervene. He needed an emergency hosiery alternative so I recommended some black tights. It is strange rifling through my drawers trying to find a hosiery alternative for my teenage son.

I hearken back to the Halloween when my oldest OS was about six years old and dressed up as a spider. He wore my brimmed black hat and to complete the ensemble, I purchased some girls’ spider tights. I didn’t think it was a big deal but he did. It took a lot of convincing but my son who is a now a plebe at the United States Military Academy VERY hesitantly wore them for trick or treating. To my knowledge, he hasn’t worn ladies’ tights/nylons since that day.

Aaron also decided that compression shorts were necessary and I’ll leave it at that. If guys only had a clue how much effort we put into looking good, I think they would be surprised. In addition to covering his shapely legs all in black,  my OS donned a black ski cap, black UnderArmor and smeared black camo make-up over his face. Yes it was creepy, especially when I came to pick him up after school and he continued to wear the ski mask. He was talking normally about his day through the ski mask and it was creeping me out! I had to tell him to take it off just so I could drive.


I am not only the mom of three sons, but I guess I’m the mom of Men in Tights and Men in Black. 

Remembering Sept. 11th

1 Comment


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. 

What I Can Do For My Sons

6 Comments

Since my son began his 47 month journey at the United States Military Academy, I have heard and read many statements from him.


“Mom, I have thrown a live grenade.”
“Ma, today I went to the gas chamber.”
“Madre, (one of his nicknames for me), I flew in a Chinook.”

From each one of those sentences I have needed a minute to recover. Those are awkward statements I never expected to read from a child of mine, especially if you knew my background. Being a mom is an adventure even when I’m not the one rappelling down a mountain or firing a rifle. And in the case of my other two OS, motherhood is equally exciting and I’m even not on the football field, or on stage, or kicking the soccer ball or trying to finish a leaf project. OY!

Lately though I’ve been especially blessed when my oldest OS has reached out and asked me for things. I’m not talking about protein bars and new undies which he has requested and I am happy to send but…


I love the other thing my son has asked for and that is for prayer.

My son had a two minute sparring match in boxing class this week. He was concerned about getting his nose broken. His nose was still sore from the previous class and I guess he likes his nose in the position and shape it’s been in for the last 18 years. While talking to him over the phone, my boy asked if I would pray for him. 

Oh it was my privilege to lift my son up to the Lord! And I took the request seriously! We prayed over the phone; my DH and I prayed for him; I asked for prayer for my son on my facebook; we joined hands in prayer around the dinner table. Let me tell ya, that nose was covered in prayer! Nothing or no one was going to mess with that little nose and I’m thrilled to say that my son’s beautiful nose is still nice and straight although apparently he jacked up the other guy’s neck. I now need to pray for that young man!

Homework is also stressing him out. Last night, we got an email asking for prayer. We again petitioned the Lord to give our son a peace that passes understanding and success in accomplishing all the tasks at hand.

Peter Kreeft, author and professor at Boston College said, “I strongly suspect that if we saw all the difference even the tiniest of our prayers make, and all the people those little prayers were destined to affect, and all the consequences of those prayers down through the centuries, we would be so paralyzed with awe at the power or prayer that we would be unable to get up off our knees for the rest of our lives.” 

Isn’t that an amazing perspective? I have that quote in a special scrapbook I created during a very difficult time in our family. How apropos as I learn to be the mama of a Soldier! I get to pray for my son. NOTHING can stop me. I can’t do his homework or block the punches that will come his way, literally and figuratively but this mama, above all else can pray! My boy can rest in knowing that he comes from a praying family no matter the circumstances or distances which separate us. 

It is so good to know that our God considers all prayers important. I am humbled to trust in a Lord who thinks that prayers for my son’s nose are as precious as prayers for my friend who is fighting a mighty battle against cancer. I find it incredible that the same God who hears my prayers on behalf of my boy for help with homework is listening also to another mom’s prayers for complete healing of her daughter’s heart condition.

Praying is a gift that I receive and give freely. In my work, I have spoken to many hurting teenagers. Often I will tell them after hearing their heavy troubles that tonight there will be five people who hold hands around a kitchen table and lift them up to the Lord. And I mean it. 

Who do you know that needs prayer? Extend that priceless privilege to others and let me know if our family can pray for you. 
 

Three Little Words That Meant So Much

4 Comments

Who’s that hot babe with the scooter? It’s me! HA! Who’s that hot guy next to her? That’s my son! GA!

Now that I’ve got that out of the way…

There are several sentences I have come to treasure as a mom.

1. I love you.
2. You look pretty.
 
and then this one, my oldest OS said this morning.
 
3. I need you.
 
Moms out there, you know what I mean. Now when my son said this it didn’t sound quite so mushy and the sentence was longer but the three words that resonated for me on Sunday morning were I need you. 
My mama brain processed the other words but those three words transported right into my mama’s heart. 

The reason my son made this statement is that apparently one morning at West Point, an upperclassman took one look at his robe and noticed that it was “jacked’ up. It isn’t good to be “jacked” up in general but especially at the United States Military Academy. When my boy came home this weekend, he asked me if I could make the necessary repairs. “Mom, could you sew my robe? I need you to fix it for me, please.” 
 
After he requested my assistance, I asked him, “What did you say?” My son seemed confused by my question, so I tried again. “Nate, what were those three words you used just a minute ago?”
 
He just stood there oblivious to my persistent interrogation but not willing to give up, I prompted him some more. “Nate, you asked me to do something. Why did you ask me to do something??? Work with me, Son!” 
Finally he got it. “I need you.” 
 
It’s different when you’re a mom of little ones who constantly demand every bit of your attention. That season of life is gone for me. But when your 18 year old son says something even remotely like “I need you” a smart mama jumps at the chance.
At West Point, I can’t be with him to do his push-ups. I can’t help him with Knowledge. I can’t tell the people who yell at my son to please use kind words instead (HA!) The truth is there is very little I can do but love my son, support his choices and every now and then, with dwindling regularity, do something no one else can do. In this case, it was to fix his robe.

I took out my brand new Brother sewing machine (ain’t she a beauty?) and got busy. I fixed the collar and reinforced the stitching. 
I took the front pocket 2/3 of the way off to sew on a patch. I mended a teeny part of the sleeve and then turned my stitching dial to 64 and added a little mama touch.
I sewed a very tiny row of hearts on one of the cuffs. No one else will see them but I couldn’t resist. I don’t have too many opportunities to sew hearts on things as a mother of three sons. I had to “carpe diem” as my OS would say. 

There might come a time at West Point when he needs to remember that little tiny row of hearts or maybe I just did it for me. I don’t know and it really doesn’t matter. Nathan boards a plane early Monday morning and I will surely miss feeling needed by my precious Soldier and loving son. Hopefully he will have more mending on his next visit!
 
I need you too, Nathan.
Thanks for making me feel significant with three simple words. 

Ten reasons why it’s better to be a dorky 6th grader than a plebe

4 Comments

1. You are a higher form of life. There is nothing lower than a plebe (well, almost). Note chart.

2. You can enjoy unlimited chews. No one is counting your bites. You can even swirl food around in your mouth and it’s all good.Life Form Chart.v2

3. You can sass at your superiors (although still highly dis- couraged) and not have to do push-ups. You may suffer other unpleasant consequences but not push-ups.

P10300104. You can also pass gas and not have to tell everyone or make noxious fume hand signals in the air to everyone around you.

5. You have a first name and you have heard it said in the last 24 hours.

6. You can say “Hey!” “How’s it going?” “Hello, my friend!” or even make up your own salutation. These are just a sample of myriad greetings available to you as a dorky 6th grader!

7. Your bed can be slightly messy and you can sleep under the covers.

8. You do not have to memorize your mama’s dinner menu six days in advance.

9. You enjoy unlimited time for bodily functions! Woohoo!

10. You shower alone.

Four reasons it’s better to be a plebe than a dorky 6th grader

1. Cool uniforms with your name on them.

2. Better fireworks.

3. Honor, duty, country.

4. Huah. If you need a translation, you just don’t get it.

So which one is your personal favorite? Which one would be the most challenging for you???