West Point graduation touchstone moments

This is not a glamour shot. 

Pictured here are the freckle face, orange hair ginger, the Hubs,
the Officer just after we pinned the bars on his uniform,
the weepy proud mama, the grandpa and the ministry-bound middle brother.

We are an imperfect bunch.
But we love each other.
And when not focusing on our own personal comforts which is often difficult for most people including myself and those in my clan.
We reach deep down inside and demonstrate support and care.

And this is what my oldest OS deserved on HIS day.
Not telling Nate how exhausted and hot we were (because I do not believe there are sufficient words and he was surely more tired and sweaty!) 
But rather standing next to our Soldier physically, emotionally and spiritually.
As he graduated from the United States Military Academy.
It was a privilege and an honor.
And if someone would have handed me a mirror,
And lipstick,
And some haircare products,
Or offered me a shower to freshen up,
You know, because an important picture was going to be taken,

I would have said no

And continued to hold my son's hand.

It was only after looking at this picture the following day
that I realized that we were all touching. I love that. 

Unconcerned about appearance,
Shedding tears of pride. 
No other place could I have been
Then next to Nate and surrounded by those who love him most. 
Making memories for a lifetime,
This perspiring, imperfect collection of people
Honored a man of integrity
Whom the Lord gave me for such a time as this
And I am richly, profoundly blessed to call him (and all those in this picture) my own. 

And it makes me wonder...

It's true, mothering has allowed me 
to blossom as a woman.

I hesitated for a moment when my orange hair, freckle face OS asked me a question during dinner last night.


"Is it ever boring just staying home all day and being a mom?"


No sooner had the words parted from those teenage ruby lips when he profusely apologized for his frankness. Truly Ike has said nastier things to me without a hint of remorse (and been punished for it, thank you very much!) but it was obvious he didn't want to hurt my feelings. 


I think it's an honest question. But what is the correct answer? Here's what I said.


"Sometimes it is boring but that's usually because I'm not doing the things I need to be doing."


It was seven and a half years before traded in my ambitious career goals and embraced the job that had been waiting for me - full-time motherhood.

The day I learned that we were going to be parents! 
Notice the EPT (Early Pregnancy Test) box 
the Hubs is holding! 

So resolute was I to stay in the business world, that upon learning that I was pregnant with my oldest OS, I ordered a TWO YEAR subscription to Working Mother magazine. I remember simultaneously nursing Nate and attempting to have a contract negotiation on the phone only ten days after his birth. But no one was going to change my opinion...not my husband, not my mom, not even my baby.


It took two more children before I figured out that the Lord had divinely appointed me to be a stay-at-home parent. I can be a bit stubborn but I was relentlessly targeted. The voice in my heart told me repeatedly that I was "perfect for the job" even if I couldn't see my qualifications. My Heavenly Father was changing me from the inside out...

Three dudes in suits

I sincerely wrestled about what to do with my life. It wasn't an easy decision as I recall sitting on our eggplant colored couch with the Hubs in the winter of 1998. Bless that man as he listened and encouraged me. I questioned, what if full-time motherhood was boring? What if I hated staying home with the guys? What if I was lonely? What if my brain turned to mush? The Hubs reassured me that it was going to be ok. And he was right. 

Now 13 years later, my youngest OS was lovingly challenging me to take stock at how it's been going for me...this whole stay-at-home mom gig.

When this kid gives this mom flowers "just because"
you have to feel good about yourself! ;)

Although my boys are older, my role as their mom is still important. To have a 21 year old son who while home from West Point brings me a bouquet of flowers "just because" is evidence that I made the right decision. To be appreciated for a pantry filled with food, much of it I prepared, affirms my position in the household. When the world laments for me because I'm a mom of three sons, two of them teenage boys, I scoff at their pettiness for I am among the most blessed. 

Three legos and a football champ!

Yes, my sweet orange hair, freckle face OS, sometimes being a mother has lackluster moments but that happens with any job as you will one day discover. Jesus gave me this exalted opportunity to raise three men of honor and faith and I will forever give him praise. 

Oh and one more thing, I hope I haven't offended anyone,
this is my personal story of transformation
and I realize other people have different mothering journeys. 

PS. I'd love to hear from you. What interesting questions have your children have posed and how you have answered them? 

Doing Hard Things - Aaron sharing from his heart

My feet and those of my boy - both of us getting 
ready for the service. I love how our feet 
are touching, I didn't realize it until now 
when I posted the pic. 

My middle OS Aaron entered the world with great gusto on August 30,1996. Almost exactly 17 years later, on a beautiful summer’s day in the Chicagoland area, that same precious child approached a microphone and through words, gave a final gift to the grandma he loved dearly.

Pretty sure I used that entire box of Kleenex!

My grandma’s memorial service brought forth countless blessings. On every level, from the music selected, the pictures featured, the location of the service to the tender common spirit filling the morning, it was obvious that the Lord had given us a day to reflect and celebrate a remarkable person. 

Aaron was the first family member to speak.This wasn’t his choice and he fretted about the pressure and enormity of the task. Not a lot of teenage guys would relish his position. From the perspective of a great-grandchild, my OS desired to recognize and share a central message about someone we all adored. Prone to migraines, we had been praying against him having one during the service and praise the Lord, he was fine. But think of how many adults cower in front of a microphone, let alone how many grown ups willingly speak at a memorial service about someone they love... Ok, now you have a slight understanding of the pride I had in my OS. 

Aaron spoke from this podium (so did everyone else).
You can see a funny picture of Nathan 
and Grandma in the background. 
We always had so much fun with her.  

My boy had worked so hard on his message. He sought counsel from teachers, asked for prayers, listened to our advice, changed a few words and added others. He considered his outfit, his hair (it really is that important!) and his shoes. But the foremost thing Aaron desired was to fittingly articulate the impact Grandma had on his life and on the lives of all the great grandkids. 

At the beginning of his message, Aaron accidentally omitted the name of his big brother, Nathan when he was recalling all of the great-grandchildren. True to form, Aaron gracefully recovered and it gave us all a moment to chuckle when he humorously, begrudgingly inserted Nathan’s name in the list. :)

Grandma and her boys at The Sound of Music.

As a music lover, Aaron equated Grandma’s life to a soundtrack. He told of the time we took her to see The Sound of Music. Grandma seemed less interested in the actual performance but more focused on the time with us as a family. Grandma closed her eyes, still fully awake and hummed away at familiar songs. Aaron recalled how he looked over at her during the musical and observed such joy on her face. My OS said that the soundtrack of Grandma's life was one with strong notes and crescendoes, beautiful and melodious. It was a moving and fitting analogy.

He continued and the tears in Aaron’s eyes and voice mirrored everyone else’s as we wept during his message. My ever growing pile of Kleenex only increased when Aaron spoke of Jesus and His love for all of us. While we were there to mark Grandma's passing, we celebrated the depth of happiness she gave to us all. Aaron acknowledged the Source of that love, Christ our Lord. I sat there draped in the arms of my other two OS and the Hubs never more thankful for this family I’ve been given. 

I like to imagine that my grandma is in heaven and that she could see us on August 27, 2011. Since there is no sadness or pain in heaven, in my heart I envision her utterly resplendent and I wonder if tears streamed from her sweet face. Not from sadness or cancer or dementia but from joy. I picture her absolutely overwhelmed being in the presence of the Lord, worshipping Him forever and for this one shining moment, seeing her handsome teenage great grandson confidently speaking of her and standing near her portrait. Oh how that picture in my heart brings me peace. If only everyone could be loved like this on earth and then to have that love exceeded in heaven, I want to live that kind of life now and eternally.   

Thank you Aaron. Thank you Grandma. 

Thanksgiving is mixed with sorrow, tears erupt with little warning and that’s the way I process grief. I realize that it’s going to be like this for a while as I have mourned other loved ones in the past. It is possible to be simultaneously sad, proud, grateful...after all that’s just what happens when you are Aaron’s mom and Grandma’s grand-daughter. 

Doing hard things - good days and bad days

This was my Saturday post..since then I have made progress and didn't give up after all. I'm choosing to document not only my moments of success but also times of setback and discouragement. I'm posting it because some of you might understand my struggles...


Now back to Saturday afternoon...

ergh

I want to give up and throw in the towel. Swimming is just too hard. Nothing seems to work. It's too complicated, too many things to try and coordinate. I'm too old for this. I look stupid. When my arms are straight, they should be bent. When my legs are kicking, they should be pointed. People look so effortless in the water, strong, brave, athletic, they must be geniuses too. No one can convince me I have the same appearance, what is wrong with me?


This is where I am today. If you were looking for an encouraging word, this isn't the blog post for you. Sorry, just being honest. Even typing these words creates anxiety within me. 


What quandary pervades my spirit! Competing forces - grief and gratitude, fear and courage, defeat and perseverance inhabit me. 

Swimming and grieving :&

Grief - My grandma was so dear to me. Someone I loved deeply is no longer in my life and it's terribly painful without her. Mourning is tiring and I want to just crawl into a corner and cry. 


Gratitude - Yet I had a grandma for nearly 50 years, what right do I have to be sad? She brought immeasurable joy to me and lived 91 1/2 years! The Lord gave me a grandma for a longer time than most people. She led a storied life. Thank you Jesus for blessing me!


Fear - Moving forward without her is scary. And I'm finding that swimming is like grief. Is it ever going to feel natural being in the water? Living without my grandma?

This diving board is becoming my friend. 

Courage - Being a land tortoise is a thing of the past. This summer, the diving board and I have become friends, we're not besties but we enjoy each other most of the time. Like it or not, I'm doing at least two Hard Things simultaneously - swimming and grieving (News flash...on Monday, my orange hair, freckle face OS told me I had "guts!" That meant so much to me!)

Um, yeah, that looks natural...NOT!

Defeat - I have been googling YouTube videos about the breast stroke. Who came up with this swimming maneuver? The breast stroke is a constant source of conversation in my house, when do I glide, breathe, lift my head? OY! This afternoon I practiced my breast stroke techniques perpendicularly on a kitchen stool and on the large leg rest in our family room. Even at the farmer's market in the parking lot, I demonstrated a possible breast stroke move to the Hubs. None of it makes sense, am I on the brink of figuring it out or is this just another indication that I need to just count my losses and move on? 


Perseverance-  But I have made some progress with swimming. For the first time in my life, I went in a circle while swimming. Don't ask me how I did it. Most of you do this effortlessly but until Wednesday, all I could do was swim in a straight line. Frankly, I most often swim (accidentally) diagonally. 

I have walked by this lap pool for years.
I jumped in it for the first time. 

I also went into the lap pool at our gym for the very first time. I plunged (sort of) into the much colder water and swam (terribly) two laps. Nearly died, gulping water, had a very unattractive choking spell while flapping my arms and legs at the wrong times but by golly, I did it. The plan is for me to return to this lap pool and eventually to feel comfortable enough with going there by myself. In the meantime, my trusty Hubs is by my side. 

I'm encouraged knowing I'm not the only one Doing Hard Things and pushing through these struggles. Thanks y'all.

Doing hard things - the diving board

I jumped!

Interrupting my scheduled post about swimming to bring you the latest development in achieving aquatic greatness... on Saturday, for the first time in my life, I jumped off the diving board!!!


This journey began in 1985 when the Hubs and I were dating. He told me he would teach me how to swim. There was a pool in the apartment complex where I lived and occasionally we went there. He soon discovered I was a reluctant learner but it was the beginning of my journey to overcome my fear. I knew he was the one for me because he didn't let me drown. He was someone I could trust implicitly.  


With great coaxing and reassurance, a few times, I leaped into the deep end of the pool where my boyfriend (now the Hubs) was waiting with open arms. 


It was such a significant moment, I decided to express the moment in a painting. My desire was to depict two feet in mid-air, no longer tethered by a sturdy, secure surface (a diving board) and not yet hitting the water. That fraction of a second when one completely trusts carried great symbolism for me. 

this diving board has intimidated me for too long

I never finished that painting. I'm not really an artist either so honestly it wasn't great. Last year, after spending decades lugging the picture to new homes only to shove it in a closet, I threw the unfinished painting into the trash. There was no point hanging on to that picture. I possessed a mediocre unfinished drawing depicting a skill I had never accomplished. Who needs another reminder of failure? Um, not me.

"Whatchoo talkin' 'bout Willis???"

Fast forward to July 9, 2011...we went to our neighborhood pool Saturday and the Hubs encouraged me to jump off the diving board. Through my trusty swim goggles, I gave him my best "Whatchoo talkin' bout Willis???" face and hopped out of the pool. 


The next thing I knew I was on the diving board plank and a second later, I was in the water. Then I swam to the side of the pool which I did for the first time in my life. I didn't drown or flounder. This was another breakthrough. 

"Did I look like a normal person doing that?"

Afterward, on land, I whispered and asked the Hubs, "Be honest with me, did I look like a normal person doing that?" I have pink highlights in my hair and a henna tattoo on my arm yet I completely believed him when he nodded and said yes. I'm married to an awesome man. 
My goal is for this to be a normal occurrence. Is it possible for me to fearlessly swim and not think twice about it? I pray, I really do, for the day when I'm as comfortable on a pool slide or diving board (not diving!) as I am in the kitchen. I have no hesitation to try a new recipe and can usually handle a culinary mistake. 


Torpor has robbed me of memories, I'm ready as it says in Romans 8:37 to be "more than a conqueror" especially as it pertains to swimming. 

I need to do this again and again until it no longer scares me. 

I no longer have that unfinished artwork.  Instead I have a new canvas. Perhaps I never completed that painting because I was relying on my own strength and not the Lord's.  This time it will be better than the original. 

Aquatic greatness ;)

And it will be created, dear friends, not with brush strokes but with swimming strokes.  I'm making progress. This was an epic event! Thanks again for your encouraging words.    

Wednesday remix - bathing suits

The Hubs back in the day doing the Baywatch thing

What family vacation wouldn’t be complete without a trip for some sort of medical issue? The tradition began on our honeymoon in Portugal almost 24 years ago when I sliced open my big toe. While walking upstairs to our condo, one misstep with a flipflop and the next thing I knew, the Hubs was carrying me piggyback style to the car. Soon we arrived at a medical center with questionable hygeine practice and I got several stitches! Oh the memories! 

Hence we have been to countless pharmacies, hospitals, urgent care centers and doctor visits. This trip to Mexico is no exception. This time it was not an especially life-threatening event but nonetheless embarrassing for a special member of our family.

The first day at Playa del Carmen was spent in the ocean. The Hubs is quite the fish, having spent two years in Guam as a young boy. But as good and strong of a man he is, (and ladies, he is strong like bull!) the delicate bathing suit area commonly covered with mesh and elastic is easily irritated.

The waves, although gentle to the rest of us, assaulted the Hubs. Grains of sand rubbed against him and by the end of the day, the Hubs was beyond miserable. How ironic to believe that if he didn’t get any relief, I might be the only parent in our family in the ocean! This would be a first.

"I will not be limited by mesh lining and elastic."

Our Spanish vocabulary is quite limited despite the fact that our oldest OS has been to El Salvador four times in a year and is in love with a beautiful Salvadorena. Nate has learned many words but “chafing” isn’t one of them. We strolled into the hotel store but lacked the vocabulary to adaquately and appropriately explain the problem. I had no choice but to point to the affected area. I used myself as the model and she giggled as she tried to understand my question. 

"Hotelshops...your one stop spot
for all your ointment needs."

The cashier, the Hubs and I debated whether the Hubs might need a diaper cream or something with retinol for wrinkles. This was no time for pride and soon we finally decided on the wrinkle ointment. No sooner was the purchase made then the Hubs scooted into the bathroom for prompt application.

I’m happy to tell you that he is now a happy camper/fish. To remove any chance of recurrence, the Hubs also went to the front desk and borrowed a pair of scissors. The mesh has since been removed and all is well in our little aqua world in Mexico.

This post has been approved, albeit begrudgingly, by the Hubs. He is my macho man with a sensitive side! And one more thing, should you ever need it, here’s a helpful phrase in Spanish...estoy rozando = I’m chafing! 

They were NOT all chafing simultaneously! They were acting like guys!

Dads

My husband didn't really know what he wanted to be when he grew up. As a young boy, aside from aspiring to be like Jacques Cousteau, he didn't have a dream profession. 

One of my all-time fave pics of the Hubs

But the one thing the Hubs says he always wanted was to be a dad. 


On April 12, 1990, I assisted him in achieving this dream, thank you very much, when Nate was born. Our baby had a cone-head but to us, he was gorgeous. Four years later, the Hubs' prayers were answered again this time with Aaron. Our middle OS was a juicy butterball, we were smitten. Lastly, in 1996, the Hubs became the father of a ginger. Ike is our orange hair, freckle face child who routinely makes life interesting. The Hubs is the youngest of three sons. He knows what it's like to live with brothers and now he can speak with authority about raising sons. That's pretty cool if you ask me. 

Look at that snappy dresser rockin' the red tie!

I surveyed the long list of prospective suitors and husbands fancying me nearly 25 years ago. :) Trust me when I say that the field of eligible men was miles long.  Seriously! ;% I considered each man's potential spousal and parental qualifications and compiled graphs and charts or at least that's how I'm choosing to remember things! Finally out of a field of many (ahem), I picked the Hubs. God has reminded me that I chose well. 

There ain't nothing wimpy about needing your dad

Observation of the Hubs' impressive skills as a father have come to light during our recent health concerns with Aaron. Per Aaron's request, the Hubs was often upstairs by his side. Our 16 year old OS wanted his daddy to rub his head. When teenage guy is reduced to saying, "Daddy," you know he's in pain.  


I can attest to Mark's talents. When the Hubs and I were first married, he would rub my head and gently tug on my hair when my head felt like it was going to burst due to migraines. 


Our bedroom was clothed in darkness, the Hubs sat next to his sweet boy and rubbed his head with just the right amount of pressure. Then on Saturday night, we sat by Aaron's bedside at the hospital. Aaron could barely utter a word. The pain was so great. With it being the third hospital visit in days, the Hubs and I were worried and exhausted. As desperate and tired parents, we felt helpless but I heard Mark when he said aloud by the bed rail, "give this to me." 

Three year old Nate with a fractured skull, don't recommend it

Without a second thought, the Hubs would have traded brains with our son. If he could have assumed Aaron's excruciating pain, he would have done it. I felt that way when Nate was three years old and he fell out of our second-story bedroom window. Our oldest OS suffered a fractured skull and as we waited for the test results in the waiting room, I told the doctor that if Nate needed any body part, any part at all, the doctor could take it from me and I would die, no questions asked. I gave him permission without hesitation. My hope is that everyone who reads this post has no idea what I'm writing about but if you're a parent, you probably get it. 


Through all of this I too, have cried out for my Father. My Heavenly Father listened to my pleas and sustained me. I have sensed His presence and leaned on Him for strength. 


The Hubs wasn't saying "give this to me" to anyone but the Lord. Such is the father's love for his son. As I hear the sweet sounds of my middle OS strumming on his guitar, this Wednesday night is especially lovely. 

ambulance

When Aaron woke up from another nap this evening, his headache was terrible. We have tried many things and the remedies available to us at home aren't working. The doctors do not believe he has meningitis because if it were bacterial, he wouldn't be alive.

droplet precaution - not a good look on me but it's ok

I have been hesitant for him to have a spinal tap because he doesn't have a fever, can move his neck up and down and back and forth. If he has viral meningitis, they can't treat it with antibiotics and if he doesn't need to endure any painful medical procedure, I do not wish to make him feel even worse. If you think this is stupid, please keep that to yourself. You might have chosen differently and that's ok but you're not the mama of this OS. 


Right now we are in the ER. I called the ambulance, so thankful that the Hubs and I didn't have a fight over this. He trusted me. 


So as my middle OS winced in pain and we awaited a doctor to prescribe stronger meds or do something, I prayed. Scripture verses came to me and I couldn't tell you where to find them in the Bible but they are there. Sometimes Aaron would fill in the pauses. When I goofed up a verse, he corrected me. We both kinda laughed. 


As hours passed, as they are apt to do in an Emergency Room, we rubbed Aaron's head, covered his eyes and assured him it was going to be ok.


Friends from church came by and prayed in the waiting room. Facebook messages flooded my phone. In this time of feeling so powerless, I noticed that Aaron, true to his nature, seemed to calm down a bit when I claimed who the Lord is in alphabetical order...


A...Abba
B...Bright Morning Star
C...Chief Cornerstone
D...Deliverer
E...Everlasting 
F...Father
G...God
H...Holy
I...(ok, I forgot an "I" attribute at the time but nonetheless He is Immanuel)
J...Joy
K...King
L...Love
M...Majestic
N...Noble
O...Omnipotent, Omnipresent
P...Provider
etc., etc., 


Then the pain meds arrived. He is sleeping. How could he not? Dilaudid, Toradol, Ativan pumped into his IV. We are resting not only because Aaron is not in agony but because of whom we are trusting. No one should do this without Jesus. Not a 16 year old child. Not a 40 something :) mama or daddy. Not a 14 year old brother or a 20 year brother/Soldier. It's just too hard to do this alone and although it is far from easy right now, I'm choosing to give this burden to the One who can carry it. 


Perhaps the reason I had such an epic birthday was because God knew I was going to need the boost for this week. 


Thanks for checking in, caring and praying...


Aaron's mama

Doesn't get better than this!

If I must get a year older to be shown such love, I am glad to be aging. Well, at least I felt that way last week! 
Birthday bliss was overflowing! I didn't have to wait until the actual day either. On Wednesday, Mavis, one of my Bible Study friends made me a birthday cake. The main ingredients were unusual but thrilling. Are you ready for this? 

Beets - ohhhhhh!

zucchini - shablam!

carrots - wowwww!

Be still my beating heart. If those ingredients sound gross, you must experience these victuals in a cake. With homemade buttercream frosting. Oh my. It was dense, decadent and delish. 

No flavors of the veggies could be detected although I wouldn't have complained. Here is the recipe. I only hope I can duplicate her efforts. 

Then on Thursday the doorbell rang and guess what arrived? 

tough guy

a bouquet of fresh colorful tulips from my son/Soldier. What a sugar boy. I am the only one that gets to call him sugar boy so don't even try. Remember he knows how to hurt people. 

cherub-like creature

And few hours later, the doorbell rang again. A most sublime, cherub-like vision was carrying another treasure!

Elizabeth floated into my home holding two pints of a soft, edible fruit formed into clusters of soft dark-purple drupelets also known as blackberries. 

if this person knocks on your door, let her in!

I nearly cried. She had read my post mentioning blackberries and when she learned I didn't have any yet, she brought them to me. 


So that got me thinking...since it worked with Elizabeth, here are a list of other things I'd really like but don't have yet. I'm not saying you HAVE to get these for me but if you did, I would gladly post about it! ;)

I want this, please get it for me

A high quality food dehydrator 

You can also get me this

A Kindle 

And of course, then I'd need this

Purple, please

How can you not be blessed when this person stops by? With cake no less! 

The doorbell rang thrice. Could this really be happening? It was Danielle, possibly the sweetest girl from church, dropping off a homemade pound cake. She informed me that she had already made me a cake the night before but the dog ate it! So you know what she did? She made another one! After the meal of shrimp prepared by the Hubs, we lavished on perfectly sweetened pound cake topped with juicy blackberries.

Is this an unattractive picture? Yes! Do I care? Nope. 

I didn't expect these blessings and yet treasures surrounded me. What great fortune!

Praise the Lord from whom all blessings flow!