It's not, "what happened???"

In our house we use a familiar phrase, "Wit happened."

It works in place of, "What happened?"

Something broken?  Wit happened.

Something cut up or torn to pieces?  Wit happened.

Huge crash coming from mom & dad's room?  Wit happened.

Apple juice cascading down the fridge?  Wit happened.

Candy wrappers shoved in all the floor vents?  Wit happened.

Dog food trail all over the house?  Wit happened.

I bet you are getting the drift.  Wit is our lovable, energetic, 100% independent child.  Pretty typical of a third kid.  He is street smart.  Lives life to the EDGE AND LOUDLY.    A go-getter.  If he wants it, he will find a way.

AT FULL SPEED.

He is a walking bruise.  Scabs on both knees and elbows.  Always.

But, boy, is he charming. 

My biggest fear and challenge mothering him is that I have to constantly think 3 steps ahead.  I can usually anticipate what he is going to do, but sometimes not in time.  Sometimes I am too late.  Sometimes he gets hurt or something gets broken.  I can't tell you how many times I have woken up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat thinking about "what could have been." 

I have never been more aware that God is in control, not me.  This child has brought me to my knees praying earnestly for safety and protection.

I am convinced that God has heard my prayers.

A couple of weeks ago could have been one of those horrible moments that would have changed our lives forever. 

But God.

Wit and I were in a parking lot talking to a dear friend.  Wit was getting wild and started climbing on the roof of my van.  He does that.  I hate it.  I finally got him off the van and opened the doors to let him climb inside while I finished my conversation.

The van was off.

In park.

Keys in my purse.

I opened the two front doors to let the air move through while he climbed around.  I saw him climb from the middle row up to the front.  He was sitting on the arm rest between the driver's seat and passenger's.  He jerked his body forward reaching for something.

And the van started to move.

We were parked on a really steep and dangerous hill.

I was struggling to comprehend why the van was moving and started to run alongside it.  All the while, Wit started to scream.

He was still in the front, doors open.

I thought maybe, JUST MAYBE, I could run and jump into the car.  There was no way.  It was moving faster now.

My friend and I were trying desperately to hold on and run with it.

We couldn't keep up.

We had to let go.

I just kept praying that Wit wouldn't jump out, or fall out.  He would have been run over, I am certain of it.

The van continued to roll down and pick up speed.  Forty feet ahead was a small cliff.  It was headed straight for it. 

With my baby.

(I thought I could write this and not get emotional...)

(Ugly cry)

(Deep breath)

All of the sudden, the van turned sharply, jumped a huge curb and rolled down a steep grassy hill.

Then it slammed to a STOP in the side of a church. 

All I could think about was getting my baby out of that car as fast as possible.  My friend grabbed her phone and called for help.  I ran for Wit.

He was still in the front seat.  Crying.  Screaming.

I pulled him out and ran.

We collapsed on the grassy hill and all I could do was whisper...

THANK YOU, JESUS.

Over and over and over.

Wit was in shock and couldn't speak for a little while.  All he had was a bruise on his left arm where he hit the cup holder.

The van?  The back end completely folded in.  Glass everywhere.  Bricks from the building on the ground.

Pictures don't do it justice.

It could have been a disaster.  But God saved my baby.  God saved our family. 

God saved me.

It was my dear friend that held me tightly and showed me that the van crashed right under the church steeple.  Twenty feet under the cross.  I have never been more convinced that God is in control.

It didn't take Wit long to rebound.  He is still as wild and crazy as ever.  There is a small part of me that wishes this would have changed his fearlessness just a little.  He isn't afraid of anything.

But I am.  I am fearful that one day I will miss it.  One day I will let my guard down just enough to not see what danger is in front of him.  One day, I won't be there to catch him.

Then, I am reminded, that on this day, I couldn't do anything.  God did it all. 

And will continue to do it.  He never sleeps.  Never lets His guard down.  Never drops the ball.

He whispers, "Trust me, Janelle.  I love him, too."

"Wit happened."

Praise God for that.

"HEY! Who down there?"

I am a frosting snob.

OK.  I will be the first to admit that I am a total snob when it comes to frosting. If I am going to splurge on a sweet piece of cake, I want the frosting to be worth it.  In my opinion, it's less about the cake and more about the frosting. On a good piece of cake with REAL frosting, I always want one of the corner pieces. More frosting to cake ratio.

I just realized that the word "cake" is my favorite word. That, and the word "baby". Both conjure up great visuals for me.

But, I digress.

Back to frosting. I am sure there are other fabulous frosting recipes in the world. I haven't found one that I would replace mine with yet. I could be persuaded though. Just bring your frosting to my house for me to sample. That would be THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD. Frosting delivered to my door for me to sample?

Yes, please. I will be home all day tomorrow!

(I am only slightly kidding)

Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  About to share my recipe for REAL frosting.  I got this from a friend of a friend of a friend.  Then I adapted it slightly, just enough to call it mine.

Here's what you need.  All these things separate are terrible to eat.  But when you whip them together...pure awesomeness.

Creamy White Frosting
from a friend of a friend of a friend

1/2 cup Crisco
1/2 cup butter, softened (aka, 1 stick)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon almond extract

Beat on medium for 30 seconds (Or longer.  I always take that time to measure out my powdered sugar)

You will need 4 1/2 cups powdered sugar.  Add half (2 1/4 cup).

Beat well and add 2T milk to smooth it out.

Then add the SECOND HALF powdered sugar. Mix until incorporated.

Add another 2T-ish of milk until your frosting has reached spreading consistency.

Then the magic happens.

Oh, baby.  Come to mommy.

For Wit's 3rd birthday cake, I found inspiration on my friend Lynn's blog.  She made darling cupcake balloons and I knew immediately that I MUST COPY HER!  Wit also wanted Curious George, so I used the famous picture of him holding the balloons as he flew through the air.

I seperated the first batch of frosting into 4 bowls and added Wilton's coloring paste to each one for the balloon colors. 

I adore.

Then, I made a second batch for George's body.

I am not a perfectionist, so I will never be a good baker.  But I was pleased with my attempt.  It was a fun cake for my fun baby boy!

What about you?  Are you a cake or frosting snob?

What is your favorite flavor combination?

Mine is chocolate cake with REAL white frosting.

In case you forgot, I will be home for frosting samples ALL DAY tomorrow!

"I'm three now!"

You cruised past 1...

You zoomed past 2...

and you just kept going--WOW!!

You've raced your way to THREE today!

You're such a big kid now!

*sweet card from my grannie to Wit
*how did Hallmark know that is exactly how I feel?
*Wit, please stop growing so fast, my heart can't take it.
*and tell your brother and sister to do the same
*thankyouverymuch

Mother's Day Giveaway...WINNER!!!!

Thank you all for entering my giveaway this week!! You made my day with your comments and encouragement!

Not just of me, but you all loved on my friend Jeannette. Thank you for taking a peek at her amazing merchandise. I have several of her creations in my home. I just love pretty things!

And she knows pretty.

So without further ado...

Drumroll please, Bob.



Here are all the names of those of you who graciously entered.

I was going to use Random.org to chose the winner, but why would I with this cute thing hanging on my leg all day?

The names are in my favorite mug that says, LOVE. Which is how I feel about all my friends that live in the computer.

He takes his work very seriously.

And the winner is...

CONGRATULATIONS BRENDA!!!

A real-life friend! Contact Jeannette, or chase her down in the carpool line to order your MOTHER'S DAY gift!

Happy Thursday!!

**the fine print**
no toddler was hurt in the making of this giveaway. I know he is on the counter, but that's where he always is. He has only fallen twice and both times he was fine. The giveaway results were verified by a sick seven year old on the couch. I asked her if any cheating was involved in the drawing and she said, "huh?" So there you have it. Giveaway results deemed legit. I know you are wondering if there is any chance Brenda will default on this giveaway so a second winner will be chosen. Not a chance, she deserves it and I hope she picks something awesome. So if you want anything you will have to order it yourself. I, in no way work for too cute designs and recieve no financial reimbursement for this drawing. I, do however, what to eat her cute stuff up with a spoon. I can't get enough!  The team at SNOTANDKISSES would like to thank each of you for entering.  Also to remind you to watch that youtube video of Bob.  Thankyouverymuch.

The (future) Mr. and Mrs. Miller

Because it's Tuesday.

And it's rainy.

And I like sarcasm.

And I could use a good laugh as I clean toilets and fold laundry.

YOU WRITE THE CAPTION.

Come on. This will be fun!

You know you want to.

Don't make me come through this screen!

Pretty please...
*****************************************


Introducing the (future) Wit and Caitlyn Miller.

He is obviously pretty proud of himself and she is obviously indifferent.

(Oh and yes, I believe in arranged marriages.)

Now, make me laugh.

(please.)

My little drummer boy.

One boy.

Two knives.

Three dishes.

Concert for his mommy.

And that was Wednesday.

Some days make you want to crawl back under the covers and sleep right through.

Today was one of those days. It started off fast and furious as we all had to get ready for school, work and volunteering. The days where all of us have to be clean and out the door early are very stressful. I am sure we aren't the only household that feels that way! I bet all of you can relate.

As we headed out the door, we noticed that our dog was vomiting...blood.  We had to leave RIGHT THAT VERY MINUTE and we couldn't really care for her the way she needed.  I was concerned about the blood and made a mental note to call the vet. ASAP. 

And by ASAP, I really mean 3 hours later.

Wednesday is my day to volunteer for both kids' teachers.  I love this morning because I can actually accomplish something important for someone else.  It is the best feeling to get a job done.  Anyway, I started my pile of work only to find all the copiers were either jammed or needed repair.  I was so frustrated.  I hate the thought of letting anyone down, especially teachers.  I know how hard they work and how much they depend on volunteers.  I fought my way through a couple of paper jams and ended up getting the work done.  Between the machines and my little "helper" who wouldn't sit in the stroller, it was an irritating morning.  In a last ditch effort to maintain my composure I handed him the phone to call grandma.  It was a lifesaver and gave me ten minutes to finish.

Next, we moved on to Wit's music class.  My great friend, Alana, teaches Kindermusik.  We spent an hour singing, dancing, swinging, tickling, exploring instruments and movement.  I love this time with Wit.  It was the bright spot in this crummy day.

Little did I know it was going to get a whole lot worse.

After class, I called the vet to ask about the blood Bristow was vomiting.  They were concerned but it didn't require an appointment.  Thank goodness!  The bad news was that I had to give her Pepto Bismol every hour.  The thought of shooting 3TSP pepto down my dog's throat with a turkey baster really didn't sound like a whole lot of fun.  My smart husband thought she would just drink it out of a bowl and I thought he was CRAZY.  Despite my effort to prove him wrong, she did the very thing he predicted and drank it right out of the bowl.

Smart alec.

Anyway, I was relieved that I didn't have to wrangle a seventy pound dog to the ground and pump HOT PINK LIQUID into her stomach only for her to vomit it out on my carpet.

You're jealous, aren't you?

It seemed like everything that could go wrong today  did.  Nothing I touched worked or cooperated.  I was left feeling tired and run down.  Wednesday nights we meet with our Home Church group.  I admit that I walked in with a major attitude.  I was wiped out and mad at the day.  So, I really was not mentally or emotionally prepared for what happened next.

"Isn't that just kick- you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic?"  (bonus points for naming that TV quote)  This day just spiraled into madness!

My baby got hurt.  He was running toward the dining room chairs and fell into one of the sharp edges.  It wasn't a big cut, but it was deep enough that we worried about scarring.  We consulted a family friend who is a doctor.   He suggested going to Urgent Care to get it glued.  Wit wanted his favorite friend to go with him, so Skip opted to take them while I stayed back with the other kids and our Home Church.

GUILT.  MAJOR MOM GUILT.

Anyway, they got to Urgent Care one minute after they locked up for the night.  The only other option was the ER.  There, they got him all cleaned up and glued together. 

One funny thing happened while they were at the hospital.  Our friend texted his wife and said that the doctor thinks that he and Skip are, well...a couple. It was a much needed laugh given my low emotional state.

Finally this day is at the end.  (And, thankfully, so is this post.)  We took our brave little patient to the Golden Arches for a car full of yummy medicine...aka 49 cents of pure awesome.  THE CONE.  There's a reason McD's owns the world.

Wit is so proud of his ice cream cone, his owie, and his new bear from the hospital.  That he promptly named, "Bob."

Long story short, I wish I could have stayed in bed and hid from this no-good-horrible day.

*sigh*

Here's to a better tomorrow without bloody dog vomit, broken machines, and trips to the ER.

What about Bob?

My nickname is Nellie. It always has been.  It just makes sense.

Janelle = Nellie.

What doesn't make any sense is Wit's nickname.  Bob.

Wit = Bob?  Not so much.

Even writing this makes me gigle and wonder how he became Bob.  A dear friend of ours started calling him Bob before his second birthday.  Our friend has a very very VERY LOUD EXCITED VOICE.  It's not uncommon to hear him yell BOB!! across the church on Sunday. 

When Wit sees our friend, he goes running into his arms.  Wit loves him with all his heart.  They run and play and fly and chase.  The way they play you would never guess there were 30+ years seperating them.  If they are together long, you can bet that the two of them will find a cookie or some treat to share.  It is such a neat thing that we have adult friends who love our kids enough to want to spend time with them.

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

A few months ago I started working with Wit on saying his full name...

Wit Michael Miller.

"Wit Micha Milwa" 

He would echo back and I would praise him.  One day, he got an onery look in his eyes when I asked him his name. 

"Wit, what's your name?"

"Bob Micha Milwa"

Today, if you ask him his name there is a 90% chance he will say, "BOB."

And then he will run away laughing.

Silly Bob.

A day in the life.

Boy, n.: a noise with dirt on it

The end.