those unforgettable moments

Today as I rounded the corner into the kitchen I caught Eliza spraying 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter' directly into Roger's mouth. I could not believe that I was actually witnessing this blessed event. I scolded Eliza and took the bottle away, but alas, Roger was hooked. He started to cry like I had just taken away a half-eaten lollipop!!

At this point, I had two choices, 1) I could ignore the crying and stick to my guns or 2) I could let him have the spray-butter back. A little voice in my head rung out to me. "Pick your battles," it said. I then decided this was a battle I was willing to loose--on certain terms. I grabbed a plate and sprayed a thin layer of fake, salty butter over the top and gave it to my one-year-old. He happily sat at the table and licked the plate clean (by the way, Eliza did not want to be left out and she, too, had a plate of spray butter).

Do you ever have those moments where your kids just totally gross you out-- you know, you are at church and your toddler has a poo-ooze-out all over the nursery floor? At moments like these you understand those movies when the main character is walking along the sidewalk and every bad child they encounter is freeze-framed in some obnoxious or otherwise undesirable behavior. The character is totally agast at why any sane person would be willing to have children of their own.

But, somehow, when it is your own child, it is different. Despite all the irritating stuff your kids' do, you just are addicted to them. Your life revolves around them. You just want to talk about them all the time. All the bad stuff is there, but the good and cute things they do outweigh the negatives.

People say that you never know now much your parents love you until you have kids, and it is SO true!! I also feel a lot more empathy towards lay people I encounter in random situations- "Gee, they must be pretty special. Their parent's love them as much as I love my kids."

This Thanksgiving was a great event with my wonderful parents, my siblings, my aunts and uncles (who, by the way, are GREAT cooks), some cousins, and my Grandma. I am so grateful for the opportunity I have to be surrounded by these people who care. I love the familiar sound of my Aunt Dawn's laugh reflected in her daughter--my cousin Janet. I love it when my Grandma calls me Milly (she has since I was little). I love my Uncle Craig who is seriously one of the most attentive and empathetic men I've met-- he always looks me earnestly and asks me how I've been. I love listening to my Aunt DD's sayings and then realizing where her 5 daughters (my great cousins) got it from. I loved getting to know my cousin Gwen's new husband. I love singing songs and hymns surrounded by the people I love. I truly feel blessed to be a part of a family who has loved me despite my stupid and abnoxious moments (and there have been plenty of those, for sure)!!! I am so grateful I could just soak up these moments.

Milkless

I swear I run out of milk EVERY Saturday night.

Musings on an ob/gyn appointment

My good friend Bonnie doesn't really think twice about a visit to the ob/gyn. She just knows everyone has to do it, and the doctors' have seen it all--the good, the bad, and the ugly. She knows she just falls somewhere in between (hopefully not on the spectrum of the ugly).

I wish I could be like that. I think it is quite possible I overthink the situation entirely. Last night I was in the shower scrubbing and shaving away (sorry to you men out there who just read that). "Really," I thought to myself, "Am I doing this right? Have I sufficiently prepared myself to bare (no pun intended) these precious, private parts to a total stranger?" What about a careful trim--does that just look ridiculous? Does it look like I am trying too hard if I slather myself with lotion? And really, what would I being 'trying too hard' to accomplish? To not look like some freak of nature, I suppose. I mean, it is not like most of us are intimately aquainted with that part of each other's bodies, so how do I even know if I am normal or not?

I don't think there is a how-to book about preparing for said yearly exam. For instance, do you talk to your doctor while he is, uh-hmm, placing the speculum (ahh, can you believe I said that)? When is small talk okay? If you engage in small-talk, do you come across nervous? Or silly? Or just like a woman who doesn't know when to shut up? I am uncertain about the laws of etiquette in such a strange situation.

I mean, when does real-life ever prepare you for this? "Hi, I'm Dr. Sharp. Nice to meet you."

"Yes, nice to meet you. I am Camilla." The conversation continues for a few minutes while Dr. Sharp answers all of my burning questions (fortunately, today my questions were not literally burning questions) and then politely asks me to, well, spread 'em. Yep, that was 5 minutes from hello--seriously must be a record.

When I was younger, I thought that booking a female gyn might make the situation better--but, sadly, I must declare I was equally uncomfortable. There is just something very odd about the whole thing.

In the meantime, I am just glad I got that one over with today and unfortunately will have to accept this uncomfortable scenario as one of the more unpleasant parts of being a woman.

Cat is out of the Bag. . .

Yes, folks, I have some news, but some people in the neighborhood have already guessed. I have been puking almost daily and can barely drag myself out of bed in the morning. Yep, I am the happy (nervous) mom who got to hear the heartbeat of Millar baby #4 today.

I am having very mixed feelings here. First, I would like everyone to know that, yes, we must be crazy to have four kids before D finishes his LONG residency. I truly don't know how we will survive, but--survive, we must. My mom reminded me that this is a train I can't get off of now, so I better start enjoying the ride (so cliche', but so true).

For those who are wondering, this will make Roger and the new one 28 months apart. Not a shockingly close amount, but still close in my book. The good news is that after Roger was born, I knew I wanted at least one more--so here it is. Wish me luck till June. . . .

Sympathy pains

I just need a little "oh that stinks" from everyone out there for this: we found Roger putting pennies into the car CD player this morning--I can't even put a CD in anymore.

Twilight

Yep, I was the winner of a ticket to Twilight yesterday from my niece, Quinci. Thanks, Quinc. We had a great time--though I was super late because of crazy traffic on the freeway and missed standing in line and hangin out before the movie.

WARNING FOR DIE-HARD TWILIGHT FANS: SPOILER

My opinion: The movie was entertaining and it was fun to watch the book come to life. My major beefs were: 1) I thought the special effects were very low-budget. 2) I just couldn't get over the fact that the actor playing Edward looked like he was wearing heavy make-up in every scene (sorry, that pretty boy thing just isn't for me!). Actually, now that I think about it--all of the Cullen's make-up was cheesy and fake. 3) I thought the romance between Bella and Edward came off a little thin-- I truly didn't believe from the screenplay that they actually could be in love with each other from their minimal interactions--just seemed like a flimsy teenage crush to me (sorry!)

Sorry if this offends, it's just my opinion!

Oops!

Just thought I'd confess: I forgot it was my turn to walk the kids to school today. . . . . feelin' pretty dumb because I took advantage of (unknowingly) (until I later realized it) another Dad's kindness who was already walking. . .oops, oops, oops!

my alarm clock is:

very faithful.


often annoying.


goes off too early.


sounds like this, "Maaaaaaahhhhhhm!" (repeated many times, getting louder, and progressively more annoying and whiny. (Guess who? Roger. "Mahm" is one of the few words he has truly mastered).



But today, I was pleasantly awaken by the sound of a new ring, sounding like this, "Day'is. . . Yi-yuh. . . .Day'is. . . .Yi-yuh. . . .Day'is. . . ." As I am listening to these new words being uttered from my alarm clock, I hear whispering coming up the stairs from Day'is and Yi-yuh. They then 'sneak' into Roger's room, and following a lot of grunting and a few bumps from the 3 of them, they all make an appearance in my room.

At least it was a change of pace.

Roast

Why is it that one of D's favorite meals--crockpot roast, potatoes, and carrots is one of my LEAST? Seriously, it is a big hunk of red meat and soft potatoes-bleh! Just smelling the meat cooking brings back nasty memories of sitting at the dinner table on Sunday afternoons gagging my food down.

Too bad it is such an easy meal to make. . . .

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Today during Sharing Time, Sister H. said that she needed some volunteers who were good readers for a little readers' theater. The gifted Nate L. (6 yrs), enthusiastically raised his hand and blurted out, "I am a great reader. In fact, whenever I see a word, I can't help but read it!"

Later this afternoon when D was telling the kids about his patients (something he actually does quite frequently), he was explaining about a gentleman he had operated on. Prior to the operation, they had taken an CT-scan of the man's abdomen and found his appendix was inflammed. Davis looked at Dad with big eyes and asked the follow up question, "It was on fire?"

Thankful for YOU

(warning: excessive cheese to follow)



Tonight as I am sitting here in bed, husbandless, I just feel overcome with gratitude to be married to such a great guy. Even though his work is grueling and takes him away from us a lot, he remains cheerful and resilient. He treats me with respect even when I don't deserve it. He loves me, even when I'm not very loveable. He is a wonderful father and a great example to me. I really feel like if everyone on earth treated their spouse the way I am treated, a lot of suffering and sadness would be alleviated--and I really mean that. He has been teased in his life for having too much energy or being too happy, but those qualities have blessed me so much. Thank you, my dear Deedles for being my guy. I love you!

Parenting Dilemma

Your 5 year-old is home from school, sick (puking), and you can't decide: Do you take the poor, sick child to the store with you to get sick juice (aka gatorade) and other items to make sickness less horrible OR do you leave them at home in the peace of their own blanket watching cartoons?

I won't tell you which decision I made, but it was a tough one.

Halloween Pics

Yes, I did take pictures. . .here you go! (though, technically, Kerri took these ones--thanks Kerri)

Good News is. . . .

. . . .that my cell phone is very clean.

Bad news is that it won't turn on after going through the wash.

Underwear Sizes

Our family badly needed to stock up on the basics--underwear and socks!! Davis is 5 years old and starting to move away from the toddler sizes and into the big boy sizes. While I was shopping yesterday, I grabbed the small size for Davis in the big boys section. When I got home I undid the package and pulled out the underwear-- they were huge!! I looked on the back of the package and laughed to see that the 'small' size was intended for boys from the weight of 42 to 56 pounds--a 14 pound difference! That is the weight difference between Davis and Roger right now. Seriously, 14 pounds for kids--someone in the underwear department at Hanes needs to be educated. I returned the undies and went to Kids' R Us where they sold underwear by the whole sizes: 5, 6,7, and 8.

prediction

I predict with the elections over that our gas prices will begin to rise, and will once again reach those disgusting levels ($4.00/gallon) by next year at this time. . . . . . .let's just see!