Tag Archives: motherhood

Milestones and recognition

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pubertyWe usually think of milestones in our children when they are little.

They start to roll over and drink from a cup, say their first words.

Big whoop. (Said as a mom of kids that are over that!).

Those things are a big deal but our OS have experienced milestones of their own recently that I just have to share.

How ironic (that is, if I believed in irony) that each of my OS would cross a major threshold in their lives at practically the same time.

May I have your attention, please?

Ike became a seventh grader. Woo hoo!

Aaron became a sophomore.

Take that you annoying upper classmen!

And…cue the snare drums…

Nate became a recognized plebe. Crowd goes wild!

No longer are my boys at the bottom of their respective proverbial social heaps of life. (Was that an awkward sentence?) After all the travail and toil, when it seemed as if the day would never arrive, my OS are happy to be movin’ on up, just like the Jefferson’s, remember those guys???

This means that Ike is eager to try out for basketball and not have annoying eighth graders hogging up the good spots. As long as he keeps his grades up and his tongue in control, my orange-haired fella will be just fine.

For Aaron, being a sophomore means the leadership skills he has honed this past year that will serve him well and he is positioned to forge ahead in whatever way the Lord directs.

But neither of them went through the valley like Nate. Sure, it’s tough being a sixth grader. And no one would dispute that a 9th grader is pretty low on the high school totem pool.

But try being a plebe. Just a few days ago, Nate successfully completed his plebe year. To a large extent, I feel like I also completed my own plebe year as a mom. I need my own badge or pin for surviving! I was counting down the days when Nate would make this transition, he’s been more than ready!

As I reflect on this last year, oh, my soul, there were so many days when I just wanted to scoop my baby up and take him home.

R-Day+and+after+244How could he endure such treatment?
Why did they have to be so sassy and mean to MY child? He doesn’t have to put up with that! (insert the “that” of your choice, especially if you have a cadet at WP or are a USMA grad!)

And while I’m at it, why couldn’t the professors understand that my boy was overworked and needed a break? Or had a nasty cold?

Despite my numerous offers to contact the higher-ups and plead his case, Nate never budged. He could handle it.

(For the record, if any WP folks are reading this, I would honestly have never done that but I thought about it. Nate would have KILLED me! I would have been disowned as a mama!)

And my OS finished really well. Since I will get in trouble if I say too much, let me say Nate should be very proud of himself. Thanks be to God!

A Spirit Week Day we won't soon forget.

A Spirit Week Day we won’t soon forget.

P1070031On Thursday, Nate got recognized.

It was a day he has been talking about for weeks.

What does getting recognized mean?

Well, at West Point, when you have completed your plebe year, there is a special moment, almost divine in nature, when the upper class cadets, acknowledge your existence.

Instead of calling you “Cadet Last Name,” the cadets extend a hand of fellowship your way. They shake your hand and learn something very wonderful about you. They learn you have a FIRST name! That is a MAJOR event in the life of a plebe!

Imagine living in a confined place for nearly a year and not having someone call you by your first name. Or having to wear a uniform every.single.time.you.go.out.of.your.room.

And consider for a moment, not being able to talk once you leave the confines of your room.

But Nathan did and the transition from lowly plebe class to becoming a Private First Class is something so sweet. He strutted outside his room in cadet casual (khaki pants and shirt) and acknowledged people by their first name. He didn’t have to cup his hands or do any of those things that have been the bane of his existence for the last 11 months.

Plebes are people too!

Plebes are people too!

Liberation,

exhilaration,

jubilation sum up how he felt stepping out as a PFC.

Lest my awesome OS become too content, reality will come crashing down on him. Tomorrow he begins Air Assault School and rumor has it, it’s not a picnic.

If you are reading this, please pray for the cadets as they begin a grueling 11 day training school. Nate must pass this in order to come home June 6th.

If he doesn’t pass, (and apparently many will not), he will automatically be re-enrolled and spend another 11 days there until he passes.

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

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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!

Angel food cake fun (recipe included)

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p1060931Thanks to a pregnant sister who has some pretty serious food cravings these days, I made two killer birthday cakes, one for my husband, one for my mom. I have a reputation in my family for cheesecake. I don’t know what I do but my mom says that nobody can do cheesecake like me.

But for these March birthdays, Denise suggested angel food cake.

Last year I made an angel food cake and she didn’t forget how good it was. I learned a valuable lesson during my first angel food cake experience that I thought I’d share.

When you take the angel food cake out of the oven to cool, don’t, I repeat, don’t, suspend the angel food cake from a soda bottle. Trust me on this. If you do not heed my staunch warning, oh you’ll see that your beautiful angel food cake will fall in fluffy, white clumps onto your marble kitchen island. And that, my friends, is not pretty and quite shameful.

p1060928Last year, I scooped up the pieces of my destroyed dessert, placed them in a glass bowl and redeemed the whole thing with homemade whipping cream and strawberries.

I then sprinkled powdered sugar over each serving and the entire crowd was utterly silent devouring every last morsel of the crest-fallen creation.

You could have heard a pin drop last year. When no one is talking during a meal or a dessert, that’s when you know you done good.

p1060939This time, I wanted to achieve the same delicious flavor minus the flop.

Isaac was my trusty sous-chef and we made two, count em, two angel food cakes.

At first, it seemed we were going to have another problem. As Ike whipped the egg whites and such together on the first cake, nothing poofed up.

I ran upstairs and began googling “angel food cake problems” and that tasty guy kept at it. I was certain we were going to have to start all over again but to my amazement, Ike’s perseverance paid off.

My sweet OS had faithfully swirled the mixer around for almost 10 minutes, I’m not kidding, until the egg whites, cream of tartar, etc., decided to do their thing. I was thrilled!

p1060960Ike and I beheld our desserts and beamed with pride. They were purty, y’all.

As our family streamed into our house for dinner, I couldn’t wait to show them our angel food cakes.

My mom was definitely impressed to learn that 12 year old Ike was instrumental in the success of these tasty delights. Ike is going to be one fine catch some day! Ladies, watch out!

I placed the cakes on the table along with the beautiful roses I had purchased at Sam’s Club. We sang “Happy Birthday” and cut into the sticky, spongy white cake. Then I decorated each piece with fresh strawberries, blackberries and blueberries, a dollop of whipped cream and my signature dusting of powdered sugar.  I recall moments of silence and requests for another helping and Ike and I were satisfied in every way.

p1060976So you want the recipe? Here it is…

ANGEL FOOD CAKE

1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1 cup cake flour (make sure it’s cake flour)
1 1/2 cups large egg whites (about 12) best if the eggs are room temperature
1 1/2 t. cream of tartar
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 t. vanilla
1 1/2 t. almond extract
1/4 t. salt

Move oven rack to lowest position. Heat oven to 375 degrees. Mix sugar and flour, set aside.

Beat egg whites and cream of tartar in large bowl with electric mixer on medium speed until foamy.

Beat in granulated sugar, two tablespoons at a time, on high speed, adding vanilla, almond extract and salt with the last addition of sugar.

Continue beating until stiff and glossy meringue forms. Do not underbeat.

Sprinkle sugar-flour mixture, 1/4 cup at a time, over meringue, folding in just until sugar-flour disappears. Push batter into angel food cake pan. Cut gentle through the batter with metal spatula.

Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until cracks feel dry and top springs back when touched lightly.

Immediately turn pan upside down onto a baking rack. Let hang about two hours or until cake is completely cool. Loosen side of cake with knife or long, metal spatula, remove from pan.

Enjoy!

Bracelets of hope in an El Salvadoran prison

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The plans had been for us to speak at a university while in San Salvador. We had made a nice slide presentation about purity and were looking forward to the opportunity to share our message with college students.

But as I should have learned by now, things don’t always go according to plans and we learned Thursday night that we wouldn’t be speaking there after all. I was a little disappointed but assumed that God had other plans for us. We were given the choice between staying at home while the rest of the team did the medical clinic at the girls’ prison or joining them and finding something to do. That was an easy choice.  We decided to go back to prison.

I can honestly say I was looking forward to going back to prison. Wow, that is a strange sentence I never expected to write!

Beth Anne and I scrambled Thursday night brainstorming about what we could do with the girls in prison. We had enjoyed such a precious time with them the day before, what else we do with these girls given the restrictions and the limited time and resources we had available? The Lord, always faithful, gave me an idea, something I had seen American girls do and with a quick google search, our plans were underway.

At the prison, while everyone else on our team organized the medical aspect of our visit, BA and I got permission to meet with another group of girls, those serving much longer sentences than the ones we had seen the day before.

As we gathered around a table, with prison guards patrolling the grounds right outside the gated windows and a steady breeze wafting through the open air walls, we were blessed to share our message with them.

I even saw a few guards peeking in to hear our presentation. These girls were a little tougher and wilder than the last batch but seemed genuinely interested in hearing about “pureza” (purity) and having a fresh start through Christ.

After we were finished we asked the girls, “Do you want to do a little project?” “Si!” they all shouted.

At first I was going to just tell the girls that we were going to make some little bracelets but then I got an inspiration and with a quick nudge to BA, I said, “Would you like to make bracelets of esperanza?”

Esperanza means hope and I think it’s such a beautiful word, in Spanish. Even more excitedly the girls said, “Si!” I was encouraged already!

So this is what we did.

First we dipped little strips of cotton material in water. Once wet, we placed the strips on the table and began rolling the strips diagonally.

It was great how the Lord supplied all our needs because in addition to having plenty of fabric around the house the night before, we also found a bunch of beads and brought them along with us to the prison.

After the girls had rolled their fabric all up, they began adding beads to their bracelets of hope. I told these El Salvadorian girls that I saw a lot of American girls wearing these in the States.

They intently worked on their bracelets and even Font sizecame up with a few cool variations. I loved seeing their individuality expressed in their bracelets and they even made bracelets of hope for their friends and some family. They worked nicely together and were very kind and respectful to us. Even the toughest and hardest of people still deserve a fresh start.

When we finished, we asked if we could take their pictures. We were forbidden to take pictures of the girls’ faces but this was not a problem, we simply took pictures of their hands.

If you look at this picture below, you will see an old, white hand with a thin, silver wedding band on one finger.

It’s the hand without a watch and um, that hand belongs to me ;).

The reason I placed my hands there is one of the girls was embarrassed about her hands. I’m not sure what had happened to them but she had dark blue markings or burnings on her knuckles. It would have scared me in the real world!

I didn’t want her excluded from the picture and so desperately wanted a picture with her, I offered her a solution. I put my hands over hers so no one would see them. All of our hands are over a piece of paper where I wrote:

Esperanza = Hope

It was one of many bittersweet moments I experienced in the prison. Check out the lemon in the picture. Apparently the girls like to eat lemons!

One by one, the girls placed the bracelets of esperanza on each other.

They made them for all the members of our team.

I have many new pieces of jewelry at home that I rarely wear but since returning home from El Salvador, with a few minor exceptions, I haven’t taken my bracelet of esperanza off my wrist.

A meager bracelet made only of a small swatch of fabric and a few cheap plastic beads is among my most treasured possessions.

Spending time in prison

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P1010271When I thought about the things I wanted to do in my life, going to an El Salvadoran girls’ prison never made it to the list. Tahiti, yes. A really cool place in France where there are houses carved in the mountains, absolutely. Montana, very high on my list.

P1010263But seriously, an El Salvadoran girls’ prison, let’s face it, nowhere near the top thousand. But I have experienced two of the most emotional and tender days of my life and I would say every Christian mother needs to visit an El Salvadoran prison.

It’s almost an insult to even try to explain all that I have seen, heard and felt because all words are lacking.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

bookshelf at the prison

We entered the locked doors and teenage girls some as young as 13 began en- thusiastically greeting us. Beth Anne and I along with our wonderful translator Lulu went upstairs into the stark meeting room and the girls practically jumped for joy! It was a pretty cool to see girls so happy to see us.

About a week ago, I did something else rather unexpected. I put some blue highlights in my hair! Think the colors of a parakeet and you have a fairly good idea what it looks like. I did it on a whim and just decided to go for it.

Members of my own family, (AND YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) 😉 have not approved of this decision but I seriously have been wanting to do it for a while. I dyed just about 10% of my entire head…now I know why I did it. The girls in the El Salvadoran prison have LOVED it! We have definitely bonded over my stylish coif.

They have found my blue (azule) hair VERY beautiful and maybe even glamorous! So take that everyone else who hasn’t found it especially “bonita,” y’all I’ve been workin’ it at the El Salvadoran girls’ prison!

We all placed our hands around the basketball before leaving.

We all placed our hands around the basketball before leaving.

We shared our message about hope and purity. In the middle of the presentation, the mood in the room became so precious, so sweet. Beth Anne, Lulu the translator and I were talking about the infinite love of God. His grace. His mercy. His forgiveness.

If you could have seen these girls, some serving sentences for extortion and other crimes, wiping tears from their eyes, you would have been as emotional as we were. We told them that despite all the things that they have done, and quite honestly we have done, Jesus loves us and died for our sins. There was a hush in the prison walls.

Here we were, behind bars, in a prison, with young criminals and we had the humble privilege of telling these girls that THIS place could become a place of hope and freedom because of Jesus. Lulu had to stop translating for a moment, she was so overcome with God’s presence. Tears were streaming down our faces and there was love overflowing. Even the prison guards were touched by the message as we also told these ladies that Jesus loved them.

We couldn’t take pictures of the girls’ faces but in a moment of creativity, we found a way around it. We took pictures of feet! Our feet among their feet!

And we took pictures of our hands. Our hands embracing their hands. The white hands holding the little brown hands. The women who were free to leave this prison among the girls who were going to stay.

P1010277We took pictures of our shadows. Our shadows among theirs. We took pictures with our backs to the camera with all of our arms around each other. It will be among my most treasured photos. As soon as I come home I will post the photos. You’ve got to see them.

What am I doing here? I do not deserve to be in a place like this. It is too beautiful, too moving and yet the Lord has brought me to this place for such a time as this. I am deeply, profoundly, eternally humbled.

Every Christian mother needs to spend time in an El Salvadoran prison. Put it on your list.

An Open Letter to the Military

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To all those who served in the military,

I am sorry that I used to overlook Veteran’s Day.

I apologize for being annoyed when I didn’t get mail because November 11th is a federal holiday. It doesn’t bother me anymore. 

Or forgetting to fly our flag, it has been waving proudly on our porch since last night.
 
I wish I would have told more of you “thank you” a long time ago but I am now the mama of a Soldier and you deserved my appreciation before then. 
 
Now I see your Veteran’s hats and your license plates and my heart is beginning to understand.
 
I notice the bumper stickers of parents of military service people and I want to jump out of my mini-van and tell them I am learning what this means.
 
My life and this day will never be the same.
 
Thank you for your sacrifice to defend our freedom.
 
God bless you for being away from your family, friends and the comforts of  home.
 
For those birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, even just regular days when you are not surrounded by the people who love you, I am humbled whenever I consider what that must be like for you. 

Thank you for being able to serve our country whether you like the president or voted for him. I didn’t realize that until my own child put it into perspective. 
 
Thank you for going to places most of us would never want to live or visit. 
 
I confess that I might have still remained ignorant about all these things if my son hadn’t joined the Army.
 
You have done your job for your country and all the people in it. Including those completely support your endeavors and those who scoff at your service, those who would never have the courage to give everything up for a cause greater than themselves.
 
Until my own son made an oath to serve his country and I saw him in his uniform, 
 
I was naive.
But not anymore, and that is a good thing,
 
I just needed to tell you this from the bottom of my mama’s heart.
 
Thank you.

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.”

My Nasty Broken Foot

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I love being an American and love living in my country but today I wish I was in Korea.
I have a friend whose husband has been deployed to Korea and if I could scoot on over to see her, I’d do it. Yeah, my leg would be tired but it would be worth it. Why? Korea has nibble fish. 

Nibble fish are tropical fish that can feed themselves on the dead cells on the human body. It’s been five weeks since I broke my foot and over a month that I have been wearing a fiberglass cast on my left foot. Without completely grossing you out, let me just say that if I could plunge this foot into a pool of nibble fish, they could absolutely gorge themselves. We’re talking a serious feast! 
 
For most of my readers, you exfoliate freely. Your feet slough all the dead skin effortlessly. Technically you don’t need nibble fish. I trust in the Lord and His Word tells me to be content in all circumstances but my left foot is devoid of such luxury and you can’t even imagine how badly I would love me some nibble fish. My friend Gigi has been to one of these magic “fish spas” although it sounds pretty funky, the whole idea intrigues me.

My youngest nephew, Josiah turned one a few weeks ago and now I’m officially the only one in my entire family who can’t walk. There’s nothing worse than a baby show-off! I’m ready to get back on my feet, seriously!

Today I was wearing a pair of jeans that slightly flair on the bottom. I had just finished having lunch with a friend. We were enjoying our conversation when suddenly my pants get caught on one of the front wheels of my scooter. I bumbled forward, trying to catch my balance. It was a slow motion spectacle as I reached for the brick wall hoping not to go over my handle bars and onto the cement sidewalk. With only one good foot to use, I feared the worse. The woman I was with was a few paces ahead of me. She heard something and turned around for quite a sight. Poor Maria saw me biffing all over the place and she let our an expletive while trying to rescue me. By some miracle, I didn’t crash to the ground but I was very embarrassed. If I would have seen this happen to someone, I probably would have laughed so hard, my sweet tea would have been coming out of my nose.

I go to the doctor on Wednesday and I’m not sure what he’s going to say about the status of my foot. All I know is that the day this cast is removed, I’m going to do some serious celebrating. Nibble fish, my American foot needs you!

Three Little Words That Meant So Much

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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

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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???