Tag Archive for: mom

Happy Mother’s Day!-What I’ve learned.

I have the world’s best parents and the world’s best parents-in-law. You may think you do, but I would challenge you to arm wrestle competition to own the title. And since you’re there at your computer and I’m here at mine-let’s just call it a draw, shall we?


Anywho-it’s obviously Mother’s Day and I want to praise the woman the raised me (Mom) and the one that raised the man that I’m deeply, passionately in love with (Connie-Mom).

I would like to share a few things that these ladies did well in regards to being a Mom. And, I hope to encourage all of you that may be-even right this moment-frazzled, worn out, frustrated and re-thinking that whole “mom” thing.


The biggest thing that I learned from my mom was:
1. Consistency is paramount in regards to both love and discipline. I knew that if I crossed the line, I would be punished for it-often by writing inches out of the dictionary or the Bible. I do give a tip of the cap to my mother for “allowing” me to have such an expansive vocabulary. I also knew that when my jacked-up, gymnastics-back was keeping me awake at night, mom would come into my room and rub my back until I fell asleep.


2. Choosing to make life fun is an intentional decision-it doesn’t just happen. And “fun” doesn’t have to be expensive-fun comes by catching lightening bugs, making pizzas, playing board games and taking bike rides. As a family, we never went on a cruise, visited exotic places or went on ski vacations. Those things aren’t bad to do-they just weren’t an option when I was growing up. Instead, my best memories consist of sitting around the fireplace, drinking Five Alive, eating popcorn and playing Sorry.


3. God comes before everything-even before me. My mother has had a consistent quiet time ever since I can remember. I knew not to interrupt her and I knew it was in my best interest if she spent time with God before conversing with humans.


4. Dad and Mom presented a unified front, one that us kids knew we couldn’t break apart.
Once a decision was made, I never thought to try to continue to get my way. Well, maybe “never” is a strong word. How about, “most of the time”. At any rate, I knew it was futile. Those parents of mine were resolute.

I love you so much, Mom. Thank you for being consistent, fun, Godly and resolute. I hope I can be half the woman you are, someday.


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Guess who’s visiting? My Best Friend.

I grew up surrounded by testosterone. With three brothers and a dad in the military, the color pink wasn’t a part of any decor or found behind my closet doors in my house.

I heard a lot of, “Buck it up, Becky”, and “Mom, make her quit crying.” This was usually the aftermath of, “She won’t quit talking. Mom, make her quit talking.”


It could have been worse, though. At least the testosterone-laden men weren’t the shouting at the football game on television types, the revving up of muscle cars kind, or the noodlin’ group. Not that those things are wrong…at all…seriously…

The only reprieve from the stinky testosterone was my mommy.


She was/is beautiful, graceful, and kind. She knows how to cook chicken a thousand ways, how to bandage a knee (that doesn’t really need to be bandaged) and how to sew me the eye lit pillowcases I just had to have when I was 12.


As a child, I don’t know that I valued all of the knowledge that she had. I suppose a five year old doesn’t understand just how much effort goes into cooking three meals a day from scratch.

But, as an adult, I can’t imagine my life without her to call when I’m having a bad day, a good day, or just a bleh day.

She is my best friend and she is all mine for the next week. Well, kind’ve. I’ve still got to share her with the now-less-stinky-testosterone. I’ll take what I can get.

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Did you know? Facts about the writer.

Dear Readers:

The internet is a scary place. If you don’t believe me, just use google earth and check out your home-from a satellite in space. That said, I try to reveal the inner me, without revealing too much in order to avoid the freaks and (bad) weirdos.

I wouldn’t want photos like this to get into the wrong hands.


Wait. Oops.

Anywho-due to my partial privacy, I wonder if there is a bit of disconnect between you and I. I’ve read blogs before and the although the content was great, the writer had no voice and I never ended up connecting with them.

So, here goes nothing. Time to connect, ladies and gentlemen, via weird facts about yours truly.


Did you know Biceps forced me to take this picture with Rupert at Hello Deli in New York (Dave Letterman Show)? I was so embarrassed.


Did you know that I met this man (Bicep’s father) for the first time, while he was in the shower? The bathroom seems to be the hub in that household, and I was invited to shake his hand over the top of the very non-revealing shower curtain.

It was weird.


Did you know that I was born in Germany?


Did you know that I basically look just like my mom (on the left)?


Did you know that I have a thing for robots and for my 30th Birthday had a “Robot Party”?


Did you know that we had a house that exploded?


Did you know Biceps and I were married  here at the Daniel Boone Chapel in Defiance, Mo and that Dad called him “Kyle” during the ceremony?

That’s enough Rebelation (Rebekah + revelation) for now. I hope this wasn’t too much, but just enough….

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My Hippie Parents Surprise Me Again

My upbringing was pretty unorthodox compared to today’s standards. I would have rather spent time at home, with my brothers and parents than anywhere else.

My parent’s had no health insurance, no credit cards, occasionally a t.v. set, one car (with a one car garage), and all our dinners were made from scratch-which we had together every night.


On top of that, my dad left a “stable” career being active duty military to pursue what God had asked him to pursue. My dad is not a fan of change-so this was not a flippant decision. Let’s just say the man duct-taped his flip flops when the broke, because the new ones probably were “too different”.

So, for several years, they left every weekend to preach and sing at tiny churches all over the midwest. They barely made anything, but they made enough.


Eventually, my little brother and I joined them-Daniel was on the juice harp and piano, while I sang duets with dad or the occasional solo when I could muster up the courage.


No matter what back road we were on, there was always time to pick sunflowers and explore barns.


While in college, my parents moved to El Paso for a few years to teach at a christian school just north of the border and then on to St. Louis to be with my Grandma (my dad’s dad).

And that’s where I thought they would land-forever. The had put down roots for almost 15 years, teaching at another christian school, opening a business and remodeling Grandma’s house.

But when you seek God as my parents do, you never know where He’s going to take you.


In two weeks, they are moving to Mississippi (which is awesome because I love to type all those “s’s”) to live and work here-The Baddour Center.

It’s a Non-Profit center that offers those with intellectual disabilities a safe place to live and work. It’s a cool program: they play intramural sports together, perform dramas, offer continuing education and music programs and even have a beautiful garden center.


(Photo Source: Baddour’s Website)
My dad has taken the job of Choral Director for the Center’s choir called, “The Miracles”. The group’s goal is “to glorify God, demonstrate the abilities of persons with intellectual disabilities, and tell the story of The Baddour Center.”

This job is going to fit my dad like a glove. He gets to put to good use his music and touring skills, taking the group to 90 different concerts throughout the year.


Just when I think I’ve got their future all figured out for them, God shakes things up and moves my hippie parents to another state.

Throughout all these changes in their lives, one thing has been certain. Their hearts seek after God-over comfort and familiarity. And they will go where He leads-no matter what.

What more could a girl ask for?


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