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Read the fine print!


We weren’t surprised when Courtney asked her boyfriend, Aubrey, to get her an Easy Bake Oven for her 16th birthday.  Not in the least. 

The girl can’t cook Easy Mac.  As soon as the mico-fast cheese product and macaroni hit the market Courtney convinced me to waste my money on it.  One day I smelled something awful.  Kinda’ like burnt popcorn.  I asked the girls what it was.  Courtney had a sheepish grin on her face. 

She was feeling all ambitious and decided to cook up some Easy Mac.  So she put the noodles in the bowl.   And then put the bowl in the microwave and turned it on for the required time.  I’m no Alton Brown, but it would appear that she missed a step.  Something important.  Like the water.  It was right there on the box.  AND the cheese product envelope.  She did finally graduate to correctly microwave cooking Easy Mac.

Congratulations, Courtney.

So, like I said, we weren’t surprised.  When Aubrey’s mom, Michelle, asked if she “reallly” wanted and Easy Bake Oven, I assured her that yes, yes she did.  She, in fact, needed it.  And if Aubrey is going to even consider a remote possibility of a future with her, perhaps it would be in his best interest to get the oven.  And then later she could try more challenging things.  Like perhaps a microwave cookbook.

dsc002641 Here, she summons the aid of the toddler.  Smart move!  You just might be surprised, Court!

When she pulled out the tiny little accessories she had this look on her face:


And uttered these words:  “HUH?  I’m not FIVE!”

Really Courtney?  Really?  Next time read the fine print.

AGES: 8 & Up

Sure, she’s up in age from 8.  But you just wouldn’t know it… 





Careful, Courtney!  Those are cooked with a lightbulb.


Cookies, I think?

Cookies, I think?



That’s it… runnn, Sophie!  RUN!

Courtney, don’t you worry.  I’ll write Hasbro and ask them to make an Easier Bake Oven.

Happy Birthday Ginger!

Happy Birthday, Ginger!  January 29, 1973
Ain't she sweet?

Ain't she sweet?



You were small enough to fit in Mom and Dad’s hands when you made your debut on January 29, 1973.  Your birth may have been premature according to medical standards, but you were right on time with God’s plan.  Though you were small in size, I’m certain that you had some mighty lungs.  And He was faithful to keep you.
I wonder how old you were when we realized you were endowed with the gift of gab?
Probably not when you were in Pre-school taking pictures and the photographer asked you if you were married.  You had your lip poked out in that picture.  I wish I had a copy of that one to post.  And the one of you sitting on top of the kitchen table. 
You were small, but somewhere along the line that belly poked out.  Maybe that’s why we started calling you Pooky.
Now you’re 5’2″ with eyes of blue.
Small in stature, mighty in Christ.
Throughout the years I’ve seen you grow amazingly.  I’ve watched you overcome so many obstacles emotionally as well as physically.  You’ve fought many battles.  Your love for the Word of God is evident as you determine to overcome.
I’m certain those places that you left behind will be the platform for your ministry.  They are now.  Every tear cried, every pain, every sorrow, every fear.  As they’ve turned into your victories, they are becoming your message.
I love that you listen.  You really listen.  That’s a rare and priceless gift.  You have been encourager and exhorter to me.  You are one of few people I allow to speak into my life. 
Blogging would not be as fun or fulfilling without you.  I truly believe God has opened doors through blogging.  And I’m looking forward to what’s ahead.
Keep on keeping on!
Happy 36th Birthday!
May this be your best year yet!
I LOVE YOU, my sister, my friend!
The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD has anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.
Isaiah 61:1-3

We didn’t sign up for this!



God, in His infinite wisdom, gave us a daughter who thinks and acts much older than she is.

I’m still scratching my head.


Last week’s quotes:

“I’m embarrassing!”

Yes, yes you are.  Sometimes embarrassing.  Let’s work on that, kid.

After Sophie ran through my friend’s re-sale shop to bring me my mug of coffee that I didn’t ask for, a customer (of noted older age by Sophie) laughed  and said, “she must’ve known you needed your coffee, Mom.”  And then she laughed herself out of the store.

Sophie proceeded to take a drink of my cold brew.  I managed to retrieve it from her in between my own laughs.  And then she looked around the store and asked, “where’d the grandmaw go?”

After dragging her around all week to help out at the re-sale shop while the owner went through nearly two days of labor on her own (stay tuned for my upcoming post on the debut of baby Sean) and then dragging her with me to clean houses on Friday… we were both near breakdown.  I had a couple of mini-meltdowns before Sophie told me, “you hurt my feelings!”

“You hurt my feelings, too, Sophie, because you won’t listen to me!”  Pout, pout, pout.

“Oh, I’m soooorrry!”

Dagger to the heart.  Later in the car she repeated over and over, “it’s MY fault!”  Although I wasn’t sure what she was talking about I was certain that I needed to reassure her.

“NOOO, it’s NOT your fault, Sophie!”

“YESSS it is!  It’s MY fault!  I want MY fault.”

Oh.  Well, as long as she gets it back.  Not sure what she thinks her ‘fault’ is.

When she resumed this argument later, I told her it wasn’t her fault and she didn’t do anything.

“Yessss I did.”

“What did you d0?”




Grandmother?  Not Nana or Meeka?  Grandmother?  Not sure who she is.  Perhaps she is the “grandmaw” from the re-sale shop.  Don’t recall any hitting, though.

Last night while watching Miss America Sophie got a little puzzled at one of the final contestant’s talent.  “What’s she doing? What the heck?!”

I really didn’t think it was that bad.  When she had enough of beauty and semi-talent, she decided she’d go bug Courtney.  Joe and I resounded in unison, “NO!”  We waited.  Then Joe yelled back, “SOPHIE!  Come back in here!”  Nothing.  “SOPHIE!”  Then, the pitter patter of little feet coming towards our room.  She poked her head in and looked at Joe.

“Don’t scream at me.”

“Well, you listen to Daddy!”

“Don’t scream at me.  Again.”

Joe scooped her up and told her that she had to listen to him.  “Don’t make my sad,” she told him.

This morning when Courtney and I were kicking her out of Courtney’s room, she said, “Stop aggravating me!  Don’t aggravate me!”

After church, we couldn’t wait to eat and get Sophie down for a nap so that we could SLEEP!  Oh, the glorious thought of sleep.  After telling Sophie two or twenty times to pick up her Playdough, I got a bit flustered at her ignoring me or waving me off.  Joe firmly told her to pick up.  To which she replied,

“Stop stressing me out!”

Heavy sigh.

And finally, while Nana was bathing her, Sophie raised her arm and said, “I need to shave!”

Hey Courtney?  Thanks for pointing out how hairy she is!

Oh!  One more.  This morning I had Sophie dressed in a pink and brown dress with a brown sweater (WHY didn’t I take a picture?), a crocheted brown hat with pink Ostrich feathers and brown and pink Squeaky shoes.  After several, “she’s SOOO cute” and huge grins, Sophie looked up at me and asked,

“Is my pretty?”

Yes, yes you are!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to rest up for the week.

To read about more “shocking Sophie sayings” go HERE.


God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson!




It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.  They are new every morning:  great is thy faithfulness.  Lamentations 3:22-24

Introducing the newest member of the Robinson family….


Mrs. Terri Robinson

December 5, 2008
Mrs. Terri Robinson

Mrs. Terri Robinson


Mr. & Mrs. James D. Robinson II
Welcome to our family, Terri!  We always knew you belonged here.  You look just like us.  Let’s hope  we aren’t targeted for the next “You might be a redneck, if….” jokes. 😉
Terri and Delmar were married at The Botanical Gardens in Baton Rouge.  Notice the shots below of the kids running and playing through the gardens.
Terri wore red for redemption
Their journey together began over eleven years ago.  Like all couples, they’ve weathered many ups and downs over the years.  Terri has a son—Jade, 18 and a daughter—Amanda, almost 16 from a previous marriage.  We’re glad to have them as part of our family.  Terri and Delmar had their son, J.D., March 23, 2002.  Terri is also grandmother to Evan—Jade’s son.
As you continue your journey as husband and wife, I pray our Lord guides you in every area; that you will be united in your home and be as one with Him.
Three generations…
James Delmar Robinson I “Poppy”
James Delmar Robinson II “Delmar, Del, D Man”
James Delmar Robinson III “J.D.”

James Delmar Robinson I, II, III

James D. Robinson I, II, III

It’s hard to believe that he is my “little” brother.  He recently referred to me as “kiddo”.  Cracked me up.

My Big Little Brother

My "big" little brother

 The first Mrs. Robinson…

Our Mrs. Robinson

Our Mrs. Robinson








Congratulations, Delmar & Terri!

And welcome, Terri!  We love you both!  May God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson.


Click Mister Linky to share your stories of God’s mercy.  Don’t forget to leave a comment.

Happy Sweet 16, Courtney!

On January 23, 1993 at 9:45 a.m., you made your debut.
Courtney Delynn Sutton

Courtney Delynn Sutton

Well, your arrival looked a tad different than that.  But I couldn’t post ‘that’ picture!  I’m quite certain that the one above will be enough for you.  To me, you were a 6 lb 11 oz beauty.  However, I’m well aware that you will think “Monchichi” when you see this picture.  Cutest Monchichi I ever saw.

Mom, what's this ball of hair?

Mom, what's this ball of hair?

Beautiful sisters.  Ugly couch.  You look lost under there.  You were such a good baby.  As you know, our best sleeper.  After the trauma of breaking Cammie from sleeping with us just prior to your arrival, I was determined to make some changes.  Oh, I rocked you.  But I worked hard at training you to sleep when I laid you down in your bed.  As a toddler, you would tell me when you were ready for a nap.  Now if you could just teach Sophie to do that.
Princess Delynn

Princess Delynn

You danced your way into our hearts.  That grin says so much to me about your little personality.  You were a sneaky little thing.  You loved to play dress-up.  Do you remember when Poppy wanted to take you to the store with your dress-up clothes on?  I did NOT want you to leave the house in them.  But he insisted.  A lady in the store stopped Poppy to tell him that you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.  Priceless.
Knows Everything!

Preschool Graduate: Knows Everything!

We blinked.  And then you graduated Preschool.  You were a smart little thing.  You amazed us with Scripture memory.  If there was a preschool class clown, I’m sure you were it.  I remember when Mrs. Paula sent a note home saying, “Please talk to Courtney.  She constantly makes noises with her mouth.”  I put that note in your first scrapbook.  Sophie reminds me of you sometimes when she is working that little personality of hers. 

We blinked some more and you were coming home from Kindergarten telling me about some kid talking on the bus about sex.  *Insert composed mother here.*  I asked you if you knew what that was.  You flashed that grin of yours and said, “YES!  French kissing.”  Welllll now, where do I go from there?  I made a visit to Sunshine Christian Bookstore and found a series of age appropriate books on the latest topic on the elementary school bus.  Those books would be a tremendous blessing throughout yours and Cammie’s adolescence.  Allowing this subject to be open discussion for you and Cammie opened many doors for your peers.  Fastforward to age 13…  I’m pregnant with Sophie driving you and a van full of your friends celebrating your 13th birthday.  And the questions begin…  I would make a few phone calls for consent from other moms to discuss the forbidden topic.  What a night!  I hope you’ll always be able to talk with me about anything.  Okay, you can stop freaking out now. 😉
DSHS Volleyball

DSHS Volleyball


Blink.  You start your first long term relationship (way too early).  Sophie is born.  Blink.  You you start high school, take dance and play volleyball…

Dancing Queen

Dancing Queen


Blink.  You’re going to homecoming with Aubrey.
Aubrey & Courtney

Aubrey & Courtney

Courtney & Mercy

Courtney & Mercy

Blink, blink, blink…

You’re driving…
And playing Powder Puff Football…

There you are in braids with the Sophomore Barbie Bandits. 

You continue to astound me with your grades, your devotion to your Youth Group, determination to NOT settle for anything less than your best and to live by your convictions.  As you make decisions and set goals for your future… as you grow in your relationship with Aubrey… as you grow in your friendships and learn which ones will last a lifetime (and I think you know 😉 )… as you enjoy your teenage years, get your first job with a real paycheck, get your driver’s license and YESSSS, eventually your first car… and most of all, as you grow in Christ…

May your light shine as brightly for all those around you as it has for us…


Role Model

Role Model

And, remember, she’s watching you… and listening, too.
And she still needs you…
And he will always protect and love you….
And I will always be your biggest fan!
Shine, Shine, Shine!

Shine, Shine, Shine!

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your father which is in heaven.  Matthew 5:16




Courtney, will you accept this blog post?

Drama, drama, drama!  There’s drama everywhere I turn.

I watched the most dramatic rose ceremony EVER tonight.  Then followed with the most dramatic toddler meltdown ever.  But that changes daily.  Look out, Tuesday!

Sophie has rejected me the past few nights with whining and crying “I don’t want you Mom!  I want DADDD!”

DAD, DAD, DADDDD!  ARGGHH!  Dagger to the heart.  Oh, it stings.  But I realize that her little emotions (Oh, sweet child, you get it honest!) flip flop a bit like her attention span.  We made peace tonight after I told her that she was hurting my feelings and the way she was acting wasn’t very nice.  I’ve had this eerie feeling that she knows about my blog posts.  YIKES! 

For the record—and not at all because I think she knows what’s “really” going on here on this blog—Sophie says “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” quite a lot for a two-year-old.  She wakes up with a huge smile on her face and says, “I WAKED UP!”  She randomly tells me, “I love you, Mommy,” while holding her sweet hands on my face.  She says she’s sorry for odd things. (I’ll try and refrain from discussing her refusing to say she’s sorry for big things.)  She has the sweetest hugs and almost always says, “I missed you,” when we’ve been separated for any length of time.

There.  I feel better.  Now if she’ll only know I’ve posted this.

As for the “Mama drama”, I’ve felt it much since Cammie’s doctor’s appointment last week.  I apologize for the late update.  She does have precancer cells.  While I’m relieved that she does not technically have cervical cancer, I’m asking for continued prayer for her.  The idea that she had that appointment without her family close by was enough to break my heart.  She will be home February 6 and I can’t wait.

But just as I let out a sigh of relief from one drama, I open another bedroom door and discover more.  My heart aches for Courtney.  Our talk tonight after we watched the most dramatic rose ceremony EVER did not involve the melodramatic display that came from Sophie’s room.  (Nor did it look anything like the dramatic displays on The Bachelor tonight.)  But I’m certain that the emotions she is experiencing as a sixteen-year-old (almost sixteen…this Friday) high school girl are equivalent to Sophie’s outward display.  And probably equal to one or nine of the Bachelorettes.  But that’s another story.

While my heart aches for all of my girls tonight for very different reasons, the burden I feel for Courtney is heavy.  Courtney is a great kid.  Teenager, I mean.  She really is.  The kind of kid teenager that has a difficult time accepting the one B on her report card surrounded by all of those A’s.  The kind who isn’t happy with second best.  The kind who sets goals. The kind who is determined to live by her convictions.  The kind who doesn’t want drama.

The sad truth is, she will encounter drama.  It’s part of life.  She’s at an age where she is bombarded with temptations and opinions and strong personalities and tough choices and few role models.  And though I don’t like to put a lot of emphasize on it, she “is” the middle child.  It’s easy for me to overlook how hard she works.  Somewhere along the line it just sorta’ became “expected”.  And I hate that. 

She is sandwiched in between a demanding toddler and an older sister who not only overcame trying circumstances due to wrong choices, but set very high goals and triumphed mightily.  Perhaps because of her apparent confidence and outgoing nature she is often targeted.  And I’m not talking about her peers.  That would be expected.  But sadly, it’s often adults.  It’s gut-wrenching to notice others who seemingly purposefully set out to let one of your children know they prefer another over them.  To know that your child notices is even more painful.  Still, a higher standard is expected of Courtney.  And so it should be.  Her example is Christ.  And as her mother, I’m supposed to mirror Him. 

Woe to me.  Insert grace *here*.

Tonight, I wonder if Courtney has the impression that she who is the most dramatic gets the most attention.  I hope not.  I hope she knows the joy she brings.  I hope she knows that we don’t expect perfection from her.  I hope she knows that her every hurt matters.   I hope she knows how much we love her.

The Mama’s heart in me has ached for all three of my girls tonight.  But I’ve given this a lot of thought.

Tonight, I’d like to ask,

Courtney, will you accept this blog post?

I love you,


Wordless Wednesday

MY Diet Coke!

MY Diet Coke!