Cell Phone Pranks

Text coming across D's cellphone: Hows the prettiest girl in the world doing on this bright sunny christmas eve?

D's reply:  I wouldn't know.  I'm a short, middle aged, ugly, fat man that's Jewish.  I think you've got the wrong number.  Happy Hannukah.

Text reply:  Sorry about that . . .  . happy hannukah

Mrs. Claus is a chicken

Earlier this month, I got a letter from Santa asking me if he could use a little garage space to store toys because kids these days are just getting greedier and he didn't have room at the North Pole to store the gifts. My reply was, "Of course.  There is an empty spot in the back corner of the garage that will do nicely."

Tonight I heard the garage door open and thought I'd take a peek.  Just then, I heard a blood curdling scream coming from the garage-- and it was a woman's voice!  I rushed outside to find Mrs. Claus, who let me know she had just gotten the scare of her life!

You see, she informed me, Santa has been at the hospital all day, so Mrs. Claus offered to help with deliveries. All the stress had finally caught up to her, though, as she was picking up the toys from the garage to carry them in.  She heard a creepy voice right behind her and screamed so loudly the neighbors even opened the door and asked if she was all right.  Luckily, the creepy voice she heard was merely an Elmo toy which had decided it was just the moment to start singing and dancing.

I calmed down Mrs. Claus, invited her in, and helped her with the delivery. She said Elmo has always bothered her and now she knew why. 

My advice to you if you see Mrs. Claus is don't sneak up on her unless you want to hear what pitch glass breaks at!

Greetings from the Millars!!

Hello and Merry Christmas to any droppers-by who got our blog address from the Christmas card!! Sorry about the lame postcard, and the late send date. You can thank Eliza who prompted the whole process by this comment, "I just feel so bad that everyone is sending us Christmas cards and YOU didn't make one, Mom."  Also, I just found a page of addresses on the floor of the van, so some of you friends never got a card!!

Since there was no current family picture on the card, I will post a few from Thanksgiving in St. George with D's family. One of the best parts of St. George is definitely the nice weather so you can go hike off some of the pie following the feast.  Thanks, Jodi, for taking photos.



Davis, Eliza and cousin Macy

 Roger overlooking a crest (this is my favorite photo because Roger looks like his head has been photoshopped over a mountain and he is a giant)

 Davis and Roger showing off their guns

 Roger and our dog, Izzy

 Roger, cousins Dezzie and Macy,and Eliza

 Cousin Power!!  (little Reed looks like he is going for the M in the YMCA song).

 More Cousin Power!!

 Reed-O

  LOVE YOU ALL!!!

Fresh off a line from your favorite sitcom:

Davis (8), "Mom!  Will and I stopped reading at recess.  Now we get our heads stuck in benches."

This statement is so wrong on so many levels.

Deal with the Devil (by that I mean deal with Mom)

As Davis came up the stairs this morning, he got a scolding from me, "Davis!!  You've worn those shorts the last two days in a row, and you wore that shirt on Monday.  I haven't done the wash yet.  Those clothes are dirty.  Go back down stairs and change!!"

"But Mom, I love these clothes.  I don't want to change."

"I don't care if you love the clothes,"  I replied.  "What will people think if you keep wearing the same clothes over and over?  They will think I am not taking care of you.  Go change."

"But Mom, I don't want to."

"Fine.  You have two choices:  Go downstairs and change, or pay me a dollar for each item of clothing you want to retread in."

He then pouted his way down the stairs, and I thought for sure I had that fight won.

Then he came back upstairs.

"Davis!!  Why are you still wearing those clothes?"

His reply was to hand me two dollars.  He smiled.

Why do I feel like I lost this argument even though I am two dollar richer?

Just in case you were wondering. . .

D just read this from a surgical text, "A normal parathyroid gland weighs 40 milligrams and looks like the tongue of a jaundiced hummingbird."

Thank you, authors.  Now D knows exactly what to look for next time he operates on a parathyroid gland.

My favorite scripture story, by Davis

Tonight I was reading the story of Alma and Amulek teaching the people in the city of Ammonihah.  I read about how these men were bound in prison for teaching the people about the gospel of Jesus Christ and calling them to repentance.  After being withheld food, water, clothing, and dignity, Alma and Amulek were able to break free from their cords and the walls of the prison fell down, destroying the people who had persecuted them.

My comment after the chapter was, "Davis, wasn't that a cool story?"

"Yeah.  But it isn't my favorite scripture story."

"Oh really?  What is your favorite scripture story?"

"David and Goliath,"  Davis replied.

"Why?"  I asked.

"Because. . . . . It has more violent killing.  And a battle."

A First, by D

D, "I had a first last night.  I treated a man with achrondroplasia."

D's attending, "Huh?"

D, "He is a midget."

"Oh."


And a bonus quote:

D's patient, "What is this?  1% lidocaine and 99% fire?  AHHHHHHHH!!!!  That stings!"

A tribute

I've eaten many plates of cookies from neighbors who brought them over to say, "Thanks, D, for helping us out."  He put in stitches for their kids.  He looked in their ears.  He sent them to the ER because he knew they just needed someone to tell them it was time.

I've laughed so hard my belly hurt after one of his jokes.

I've been blessed with a Honey Baked Ham bestowed to us by a neighbor who was overcome with thanks for an angel who shovelled his driveway after a major winter storm.

I have slept in many Saturday mornings and was awakened by the smell of breakfast and happy, twittering children's voices in the kitchen.  The only words I understood were, "Dad. . . . . .Dad. . . . .Dad. . . .Dad."

I've eaten out at several restaurants with a gift card from someone who my husband's life touched.

I've gone into the laundry room to start a load and found the washing machine had already been started.

I've read cards from patients who were blessed by D's time and expertise. 

I've had nurses stop me and tell me how much they loved and respected my husband.


It is easy to complain he is gone.  Gone all day.  Gone at night.  Sleeping whenever he sits down.  But, really, what right do I have to complain when I've been so blessed?  May I always look for the good in life. . . . it is so apparent if I only open my eyes.

Business First

I grabbed Reed out of his crib this morning with our dog, Izzy, following behind.  As soon as Reed's feet hit the floor, he started yelling, "Her bid-ness, her bid-ness, her bid-ness, (her business)" as he toddled over to the back door.  He opened the door, and said, "Hereyago, Izzy."  Izzy obediently walked out the door and turned around to look back at him.  Then he coaxed her, "Go poo, Izzy.  Go poo."  He shut the door, turned around,  looked at me and said, "Izzy. Her bid-ness."  I told him good job and didn't mention that I had already let her out first thing.

Next stop.  Teaching Reed how to do his bid-ness in the toilet.

A SHOCKING revelation

Don't let that sweet, innocent face fool you:  the Tooth Fairy isn't all she is cracked up to be.  I just caught her raiding Roger's money bin to pay for Davis and Eliza's teeth (they both lost one within a day of each other).

She gave me this sob story about how she didn't have time to go to the bank today and release funds. The Tooth Fairy thought Roger would not notice any money missing as he had stolen most of it from his mother's purse anyway! I told her this was no way to represent magical creatures, and she should have been more prepared. I gave her a swift spanking and made her promise to never let it happen again.

Can you believe that!!  The TOOTH FAIRY-- stealing money from one child to pay another!!  What has this world come to??

Wilderness Camp 2011

When I meet people and they ask me, "How many kids do you have?"  I answer, "Four.  I know. . . . .way too many."  Then I add another line, "But I just don't know which one I would give up!"  They laugh, and I laugh, and my explanation about why I don't have it all together is made.  Having said that, I know my four kids have made it very difficult for me to keep up on my blog.  I miss it.  I miss sitting down to reflect about the day.  Now as I sit down, it is hard not to look past my computer screen at the messy room around.  But, I just gotta do that right now.

Last week was amazing!!  I unplugged and headed out to the mountains past Marion, Utah to our Stake's property.  After working out crazy schedules for how the kids' would be taken care of (with a lot of sacrifice from my mom, sister, neice, and sister-in-law-- THANK YOU), I could enjoy a great week of good company from adults and teens alike.

We hiked, we sang, we prayed, we laughed, we skit-ed (or would that be skat?), and we bore testimonies together.  What a great bonding experience.  I am so privileged to be surrounded by such amazing and talented people.

Whenever I participate in activities like this, I can't help but stroll down memory lane and remember my experiences as a Young Woman at girls' camp.  As a 12-year-old girl with a backpack barely hanging on my little frame, I hiked up a hill and camped for a while.  I can honestly say I learned important life lessons on that journey: I can do hard things, people love me, and the Holy Ghost bears witness of truth. I learned so much about myself at camp. These lesssons have stuck with me, and I am honored to be a part of this experience for other Young Women.  It was a great week, and I was happy to serve some amazing spirits in teenage bodies.

Don't we look happy?

Tender mercies (?)

I was alarmed out of bed this morning by a phone call at 5:34.  Never fear.  It was not a telemarketer.  It was not a family emergency.  Unfortunately it was the call telling me I had slept in: our YW Presidency had planned a temple trip for 6:00 A.M. and I hadn't set the alarm clock properly. I stumbled out of bed and tried to get ready in a jiffy, but quickly realized I needed to send the ladies on or they would miss the session.  I told them I would do initiatories and meet them in the lobby.

But when God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window (At least that's what Mother Abess says.  And yes, I frequently glean wisdom from musicals produced in the 60's).

I called D to let him know that he didn't need to rush home-- I had missed my ride and my session (he was on call the night before and was off at 6:00).   When D got into the house, he said, "I am really sorry that you are so bummed, but your bad morning is my tender mercy."

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"I said a lot of prayers last night that I would be able to figure out Eliza's hair for her gym workout this morning.  I was really scared I wouldn't be able to do a pony tail to her liking.  Now that you won't be gone, you can do it before you leave."

With that, we woke Eliza up at 6:40 just so mom could do her hair.

Tender mercy?  You decide.

I'm trying to be like Jesus. . . .kindof

Ahhhh, first day of summer.  Lazy morning.  Lot's of time.  The inevitable video-game fight has already happened, and it is only 10 A.M.  I locked Davis and Roger outside and told them to work out their differences.  They could come back in when things were figured out.

A few minutes later, they knocked.  I opened the door and asked, "Did you figure it out?"

"Yes," Davis replied. "Roger said he would watch me play."

"Really?  Roger are you okay with that?"

"Yeah," he said.

"I guess you guys can come back in then."  As they shuffled down the stairs, I stopped Roger.  "Rog, thanks for being a peacemaker and letting Davis play first.  I can tell you are really becoming like Jesus."

He stopped and stared at me for a moment and then announced, "No, I'm not like Jesus.  I don't have a beard."

Then he walked downstairs thinking his mom was an idiot.

Same Jersey: LOVE THIS VIDEO!!

The best day ever, so-far, yet

I can honestly say that I never thought the day would come so fast when my twins would turn 8 and be baptized. 

In the last few months I have been the observer and, sometimes, participant of these two inquiring minds who've asked questions about baptism and earnestly listened to Primary teachers and their parents as they've discussed the possiblility and reality of baptism.  We made a goal with the kids to read the children's illustrated Book of Mormon together before they turned 8.  These kids are just trying to eat up knowledge.  Eliza especially would remind us on days we forgot to read that we had not done so.  We read the account of Jesus Christ's baptism by John the baptist.  Grandma Tricia wrote a simple and beautiful song about baptism we learned together. Finally, the twins were ready to meet with the bishop (all alone) and get an interview for baptism.  I think I was more nervous than they were.  But each child emerged from the office with a smile on their face.  They were ready.  They were willing.  They were excited.  We spent the week before the baptism getting the yard ready for visitors after the baptism.

The day finally came.  D had a leadership meeting early in the morning he had to speak at, so I was in charge of getting the family ready, the house ready, and the food ready.  I was a bit stressed, especially when D stayed late to chat (curse you social creature).  He arrived home and had just a few minutes before he took the twins over to the church to get ready. I fantically tried to do last minute chores like cutting up fruit and wiping down the bathroom one last time.  I was saved by my mom 15 minutes before the baptism who came over and said, "Camilly, we can help you with this stuff afterwards.  Relax.  Enjoy the day.  Come over to the church with me."

I obliged.  Thank you for the perspective, Mom.

Our ward had 5 kids being baptised, so the Stake set apart time just for them.  We watched a beautiful movie about baptism.  The kids were recognized.  There was a short talk from the Stake Primary President, and we were dismissed to the baptismal font. First Davis was baptised, then Eliza-- Davis sat on the stairs and watched.  I was overcome with a flood of emotion and gratitude as I looked at all the friends and family who had come to support them on this special day.  I was so grateful for my husband, a priesthood holder, who could perform this ordinance.  I reflected on my own memories--though limited-- of my baptism.  I was reminded of how my membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has defined my life.  The things I have been taught about the Savior have helped me through the rough times and strengthened me as I have tried to be a better person.  I was excited that my children would have that same opportunity to learn for themselves about the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Then we hurried and got the children dressed.  They were confirmed by their Dad as members of the Church
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and were given the gift of the Holy Ghost through the Priesthood power.  I felt the warm comforting of that same spirit reminding me that I, too, had the companionship of the Holy Ghost when I was living worthy of it.  My testimony was strengthened as I watched two of the people I love most receive that gift through the same priesthood authority Jesus Christ possessed when he was on the earth.  I have a testimony of that power and I know that all people on the earth can be blessed by that same power and gospel when they earnestly seek it.  I hope I can be a vessel of good that helps to spread that gospel truth to anyone who wants it.

Seriously, one of the best days ever--so-far--yet.  I feel privileged to have this gospel truth in my life and hope I can be a good enough mom and person to help those I am surrounded with benefit and learn from it!! 

If you have any questions about baptism, HERE is a link to a lesson from our Gospel Principles manual.

Some things just make you smile

Some things just make you smile.

Like when I woke up Davis this morning by whispering in his ear, "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."  He opened one eye and retorted, "Don't call me that."  And then rolled over.

Ouch.

Or when your husband is making the kids lunch for school and he puts the Pringles into a tupperware so they don't break apart before lunch.

Ahhhhhh.

Or when your four-year-old asks, "Can we have dinner for breakfast tonight?"  You correct him, "You mean breakfast for dinner?" 

Too cute.

Small miracles

A few nights ago, D and I witnessed a tiny miracle.  I'll call it a miracle of the heart really.  In our church, each individual and/or family is assigned two men  and two women to be their 'Home Teachers' and 'Visiting Teachers.'  These people are asked to visit the home once a month and keep in touch with the family so they can be aware of their needs.  If need arises they can contact the leaders of our congregation, called a Ward, to provide further assistance to the family, if needed.  In a perfect world, this system works to make sure that no 'sheep' are lost.  Unfortunately, we don't live in a perfect world and sometimes months go by without contact from home teachers.  Life gets busy for everyone.

Late Sunday night, D got a call from Brother F. saying he was really worried about the elderly women he home teaches.  He noticed she wasn't at church that day and called to check on her.  She was experiencing significant pain in her chest and difficulty breathing.  It was beginning to hurt so badly she couldn't even lay down without pain.  She said she didn't want to 'go in' to the hospital and was planning to take an Ambien so she could sleep.  Brother F. hung up the phone and worried.  He knew something was wrong.  He called the woman and asked her if D came over and looked at her, would she be willing to go to the E.R. if it was deemed medically necessary.  She said, "Yes."

D made his way over and checked her breathing, heart rate, blood pressure, and lungs.  It was clear to him something was wrong.  He told this woman she should definitely go to the E.R. because there were many things he could think of that would require further attention and care. By now it was almost 11:00, but her good home teacher, Brother F. volunteered to take her in.  In the morning, he called D and let him know this lady had experienced two pulmonary embolisms (blood clots in her lung).  If she had indeed taken an Ambien and tried to sleep that night, she would have likely died.

I am calling this a miracle because I learned a lesson about loving those around you from Brother F.  Most of us might not have even noticed the absence of an elderly woman at church.  But Brother F. did.  And not only did he notice her absence, he followed through.  I learned a greally great lesson here that miracles are often worked through the kindness and love of others.  Through his actions and persistence, Brother F. probably saved this woman's life.

It makes me want to be a better Visiting Teacher, to be more attentive and aware of the needs of those arounds me.  What an amazing lesson I learned!!

Eliza's first marriage proposal

Last night when I picked up Davis and his buddy from the gym, his friend told me, "Guess what?  I've finally decided what I'm going to be when I grow up."

"What's that, Jaydyn?"  I replied.

"Davis's brother-in-law," he said.

"Oh.  Well the only way you can be Davis's brother-in-law is if you marry Eliza," I tried to clarify.

"Yeah, I know.  She is a pretty cute little girl.  And you are a nice mom.  So it is a good idea."

"Alright, then.  Who's going to tell Eliza?  Me or you?"

I think this i marriage is more about being linked to Davis than marrying Eliza.  I'll let you know when I figure it out. In the meantime, I'll be fending off potential suitors for at least 15 more years.

How a four-year-old thinks

Mom, "Roger, your shirt is backwards, you need to turn it around."

Roger, "No, I don't."

Mom, "Yes, you do.  You should wear your shirt the right way."

Roger, "I don't want to turn it around."

Mom, "But you need to.  It looks silly like that."

Roger, "Hey. . . . . . You should stop making fun of others."

Mom, "I'm not making fun of you.  I am being a mom.  Mom's tell their boys when their shirts are backward."

Roger, "I want to wear it like this."

End of discussion.

Proof that Roger is a genius

Roger, "Mom, guess what?"

Me, "What?"

Roger, "Poop stinks."

Me, "That's true."

A question of utmost importance:

What IS he doing in a pteranadon nest?

(if you have no idea what I am talking about, go YouTube the theme song to Dinosaur Train on PBS kids)

When Dad goes shopping for birthday gifts

When Dad goes shopping fot the twins' 8 year-old birthday presents he comes home with:

A 200 dollar telescope ("This is the cheap one.  I really wanted the one that cost 600 dollars.")
2 lava lamps
A map of the night sky
A Justin Bieber album

I went back to the store and got some legos and new outfits.

I believe

Hoorah for a group of youth in our world who know what they believe in. I was privileged to attend the general Young Women Broadcast of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints last Saturday evening.  The theme of the night was "We Believe," based upon the 13th Article of Faith.

We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men.  Indeed we may say we follow the admonition of Paul.  We believe all things.  We hope all things. We have endured many things and hope to be able to endure all things.  If there is anything virtuous, lovely or of good report, or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.

Isn't it great to know there are teenagers out there who know what they stand for?  We live in a world where it is popular to do what feels good now: people ask, 'what is the right thing for me, and me alone?  What feels good?'  I feel like there are so many T.V. shows right now (especially geared towards teens and young people) that make virtue and personal purity in an individual seem archaic, out-of-fashion, and even close-minded. What is the message that women are taught these days?  Your self-worth is derived from your sexual attractiveness.

This is a gigantic hoax!  Anyone who holds a puppy or a newborn knows that this individual has intrinsic value and is of worth. Those adorable newborns can do nothing--NOTHING-- for themselves, but we adore them and love them.  We would think it ridiculous to label children as worthwhile or worthless based upon their clothes or their color of skin or some other feature. Those little babies turn into the children, neighbors, and friends we love.  They are still of great worth--not because their hair is fashionable or their clothes are trendy or their figure is flawless.  It is because they are children of God.  Yes, LITERAL spirit children of God.  We should worship and love ourselves, not because of a physical feature or talent someone else deems desirable, but because we came from Heavenly Father.  All that other stuff is a bonus and just adds to the depth of our character.  We are loved for who we are, just the way we are-- we are loved more than perhaps we can even comprehend.

It can be confusing, even for me, a 32 year-old mom of four, to stick by my values and be a vessel of good (for those of you who know me, they know I am still working on this).   I sometimes get confused about what makes me worthwhile.  I can be easily discouraged when I feel like I don't measure up. I was uplifted and inspired to hear these words from my leaders (Sister Dalton):

What can each of you do to be a guardian of virtue? It starts with believing you can make a difference. It starts with making a commitment. . . . . . . For the mothers listening tonight, you are your daughters’ most important example of modesty and virtue—thank you. Never hesitate to teach them that they are royal daughters of God and that their value is not based on their sensual appeal. And let them see your belief modeled correctly and consistently in your own personal attitude and appearance. You are also guardians of virtue.

When life gets hard and you are discouraged, Sister Dibb gave some helpful advidce:

Sometimes we hear the list of attributes outlined by the 13th article of faith and we feel overwhelmed.  However, I know as we try to live these standards and try to follow Christ's example, we can make a difference. . . . . It is my prayer that each of you will not only state, "I believe in being honest and true," but that you will commit to live that promise each and every day.  As you do this, Heavenly Father's strength, love, and blessings will sustain you.

Amazing words with some amazing promises, right?

To top off my evening, I even got to go get a treat afterward with my new friends and presidency members.  I am so thankful for their example to me.  Not to mention a delicious key lime pie.

Somtimes I wish. . . .

Sometimes I wish the world revolved around my schedule.  Like if I felt like sleeping in, everything would freeze and not move until I decided to roll out of bed

If the world revolved around my schedule, the guy from Sam's Club (who I've been trying to get ahold of for weeks) would just be there and not in a meeting and not have a day off so I could just KNOW if I am getting a donation from them for our school's fundraiser.

I wish the world revolved around me.  Don't you wish the world revolved around you?

Who is Roger Guy?

Roger couldn't be left out of the video madness. (warning: this video is mostly about grandparent enjoyment)

Eliza's Xcel Gymnastics State Meet 2011

Unfortunately, our camera decided to stop during Eliza's uneven bar routine.  Too bad.

Davis State Meet 2011

This meet was the story of good versus evil.  Davis fell on Parallel Bars and Pommel. . . . 2 events in which he usually shines (rough warm-ups made him jumpy, I guess).  Oh well. He had his highest scores of the season posted on Rings and Floor.

Because today I am one of those people who need validation

After the new rug sat in my basement for 4 months, I finally stripped Reed's old NASTY carpet, and installed the new one.  I also rearranged the room around a bit.

Hubba, Hubba

Move over ladies, this one is MINE

(you gotta love a man who knows he can't handle the onions)

I pause for a moment of introspection

It is a strange day when you realize you will be forever behind on your laundry if you do not do at least one load per day.

This realization has explained many piles of laundry baskets in my house. It is a shame it took me so long to figure this out.  Better late than never. Thank you. 

The post in which you realize your son is a sissy, umm I mean, small for his age

Spring is nearing (think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts) as evidenced by the fact that all the moms are throwing out emails telling each other which sports they are signing their kids up for and to request all neighborhood kids get placed on the same team.

After receiving such an email, I asked Davis which sport, if any he was interested in signing up for.  "Soccer," was his quick reply.

"Okay, but some of your other friends like Nico,Will, and Andrew are doing flag football."

"I don't like football.  It is stupid."

"What?  Why is it stupid?"

"I don't know.  Sometimes we play it a recess, and I don't like it."

"Okay."  At this point, a tiny little mom gene inside of me sighed in relief cause I wouldn't have to worry about a high injury sport (I know, I know, he's a gymnast, isn't that high injury?).  Then, I second guessed myself and wondered if his lack of interest was because he was a--dum, dum, dum-- sissy.  I couldn't control myself, so I asked a follow up question, "What is it about football do you not like?"

"I don't know."

"It's okay.  You can tell me.  Do your friends play tackle football at recess?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I see.  You don't like getting tackled, do you?"

Davis looks down and lowers his voice, "No."

"That's okay.  I don't like getting tackled either.  I don't care if you play football."

Ahhhhh me.  It has been said.  I guess I always knew in my heart I would not be the mom of a running back. It's just I like a great game just as much as the next girl. . . . .

You did well when:

When your 4 year old open his birthday present and exclaims, "I am soooo  wucky," you know you picked the right gift.  Whew!!

When you walk into the bathroom to help that same boy finish his business and he announces, "I don't need help wiping.  I am four," you know the special day has ended well.

Love you, Roger-roo!

from the Dictionary of the hot girl at the gym

Me (as I walk into class and set my stuff down), "The snow wasn't as bad as I thought it would be after the storm last night."

Hot girl, "I know, I was really skeptimistic about going out this morning."

Me, "Uhhh huhh."

CLASS STARTS

CAMILLA LOOKS LIKE A FOOL.

HOT GIRL DOES NOT LOOK LIKE A FOOL.

Camilla thinks to herself, "Well I am getting my tail end kicked this morning, but at least I don't make up my own words."

CAMILLA FEELS BETTER.

A mom of boys

You know you are a mom of a boy when your little one comes up the stairs with delight and announces, "Mom, check it out:  I just learned how to burp."  He then swallows some air and promptly releases a belch on cue.

Way to go, buddy.  I am so proud.

Seriously cool photos (from a biased mom), part II

(THANKS FOR THE PHOTOS SUZEE!)

Seriously cool photos (from a biased mom)