On a recent drive to take our two eldest kids back to college after spring break, I didn’t mind when Anna commandeered the minivan’s satellite radio. But halfway through the Berkshires, my elbow hurt from fist-pumping to Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You” and I was bored with pop lyrics. Mercifully, Anna fell asleep, her head…
Middle-Age
From Rags to Ratchet: Are there no riches in military life?
“What the …?” my 16-year-old daughter, Lilly, stopped herself short in front of our minivan on a blustery, rainy morning before school this week. There, on the driveway, was a pile of shattered black glass. Just above the shards on the passenger’s rear side was a gaping hole where the window used to be. “Holy…
Confessions of foolish military spouses
Twenty-four years ago, when I became a military spouse, I was pretty clueless. “Honey,” my husband Francis delicately explained through clenched teeth two weeks after our wedding, “the reason you should NOT lose your new military ID, is that you will need it for everything!” I thought the silly laminated card was an unnecessary formality….
From the archives: “Wanted: Mom Manager”
I was late for the meeting. Again. With an armful of crumpled papers, I rushed down the hall. Sheepishly, I found a seat at the table, and began with as much authority as I could muster: “This meeting is called to order at, let’s see, twelve minutes after nine. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer…
What I believe about Hell and hand baskets