Last week, from his windowless cubicle at the Pentagon, Dustin forwarded me an essay our friend Frank, whom we know from flight-school days, wrote for the U.S. Navy War College website.

Out of necessity, military spouses have devised creative ways to mark the time—paper chains, journals, jars of M&Ms—but last year,

Each April, my older boys eagerly await the first phone call from their Little League coach. I'm probably biased, but he's the best one out there.

On Monday, April 15, while the Boston Marathon was getting underway, the boys and I were in Washington, D.C., embarking on another time-honored American tradition: visiting our representative in congress.

We are in the best time of the year. No, it's true. I know, there are still pockets of snow behind your shed and muddy shoe prints have become a regular thing at the front door.

School mornings with Ford, 12, go something like this: at 7:45 a.m., he yells from downstairs that I'm going to make him late.

t was April Fool's Day five years ago. I was in the bathroom brushing my hair when Dustin came home from work, dressed in his green flight suit, and told me to sit down.