My sick boys.

It's a "snow" day!

It's a "sleep until 9:00" day.

It's a "stay in jammies" day.

It's a "DON'T HIT YOUR SISTER!!!" day.

It's a "sunshine and snow" day.

It's a "don't let the sunshine fool you" day.

It's a "one more cup of coffee" day.

It's a "please don't leave us daddy" day.

It's a "layer up" day.

It's a "bake chocolate chip cookies" day.

It's a "GO TO YOUR SEPERATE CORNERS" day.

It's a "play-doh" day.

It's a "chase me and tickle me" day.

It's a "snow ice cream" day.



It's a "WHAT HAPPENED NOW?" day.

It's a "go play in the tee pee" day.

It's a "laundry stops for no man" day.

It's an "UGH! Bristow's eating my toys again" day.

It's a "read a book" day.

It's a "kettle korn" day.

It's a "Mo-ooom, he's not playing with me" day.

It's an "I can't move with all these layers on" day.

It's an "after lunch is nap time" day.

It's a "Wii" day.

It's a "Yahoo! Did you see that, mom?" day.

It's an "are you ready to be nice?" day.

It's a "hide and seek" day.

It's a "we still need to practice your spelling words" day.

It's a "we ran out of marshmallows" day

It's an "I am glad to be your mommy today" day.

Finding the silver box.

My kids are home today due to "inclement weather" as the school says. The first snow day of the year is always met with a thrill and lots of wonder. My kids are a little sad that there isn't enough snow to play in, but we are having fun playing inside. Secretly, I am hoping that we have a very short winter with lots of sunshine.

Last winter we had 578 snow days and I was so OVER IT. The bleakness of last winter left its mark on me. My heart mirrored the weather outside.

DARK BLEAK LONELY ISOLATED MOODY COLD HARD GRAY

The weather cleared up and changed long before my heart did. It is something that I am afraid of as the gray days stack up. Will I fall back into the pit? Or, will I make different choices this season to guard my heart against the cold lonely days?

(Here is where a gifted writer would know how to transition those thoughts into cleaning out the underwear drawer. Just go with me in my clumsy attempt to make this relevant.)

I have already been pretty open about how the mundane of life is sucking the joy out of my heart and today is no different. Even though the kids are home there is some balance between playing and working. It is something I wrestle with...daily.

Anyway, the kids were playing Wii (and they were actually getting along)so I took that time to do some work. I wasn't really planning to clean my underwear drawer but so glad I did. There was a sweet surprise waiting for me at the bottom.

At a Christmas tea several years ago, an older woman from our church wanted to share something with us that she had read and found encouraging. Not a woman used to the spotlight, her voice and hands shook as she read from the book "Silver Boxes" by Florence Littauer. A story about encouragement.

While speaking to young children, Mrs. Littauer realized the concept of her book, "...when our words come out they should be like 'little presents all wrapped up to be given away.' The idea of 'presents' brightened them all up, and one precious little girl stood up, stepped into the aisle and said loudly to everyone, 'What she means is that our words should be like little silver boxes with bows on top!' Florence said, 'What a beautiful thought! Our words should be gifts to each other, little silver boxes with bows on top.'"

Our sweet church lady wanted to give each one of us a Silver Box to take home and tuck away. She had purchased beautiful silver boxes and wrapped bows around each one. Lovingly she laid out pieces of paper for each woman there. We walked around the table and wrote an encouraging thought or compliment to fill the boxes of each lady.

I was a different person then. I am not sure I saw the purpose of this exercise. I remember just wanting to hurry and write down compliments so I could get back to laughing with my friend.

I must have come home that night and tucked my silver box away in my underwear drawer and completely forgotten about it.

Fast forward to today. A women raw and fearful about falling back into the winter heart from last year. A woman that has been weathered by the storms of life. A woman who desperately needs affirmation. A woman who has a God that can turn the mundane into something really special.

Isn't it wonderful when God shows up?

Inside my silver box were the sweetest words any woman can read.

"kind, you are very smart (huh??), warm fuzzy, you have a sweet smile, great mom, kindred spirit, encourager, sister, friend, sweet spirit, loving mommy, giving, loving, fun, elegant (ha!), mischievous"

Words I wouldn't have said about myself.

Words I needed to hear.

Words that need to take root.

Words I need to believe.

God knew when I needed to find that box. He knew that those words would mean something to me now as I fight the winter heart.

Sweet words like sunshine to break up the COLD AND LONELY.

Ephesians 4:29 You must stop letting any bad words pass your lips, but only words that are good for building up as the occasion demands, so that they will result in spiritual blessing to the hearers.

Nap Day

Happy Home Day, dog.

There are two things we have bought off Craigslist that I wish we could return. The first is a bunk bed. When Zeb was six he asked for a bunk bed for Christmas. He was absolutely convinced that having a bunk would increase his childhood memories ten-fold. And I advocated heavily for it, partly because I always wanted one. A two-story bed/hideout? Yes, please.

Scientific fact that the world is ten times more fun when you own a bunk bed.

Unless you are the mom that has to change the sheets on said bunk bed. The most hateful two-story contraption in the world. So tortuous, in fact, that no one is allowed to sleep on the top bunk. So he has a bed with a really big shelf.

From what I can tell there is no scientific evidence that supports the increase in childhood happiness by sleeping under a really big shelf.

Awesome.

The second thing I wish we could return to Craigslist is our dog. Before you go all "Marley and Me" on me, please know that we do love our dog. We just love the IDEA of her more.

The reality of her is HARD WORK.

Meet Bristow Ann, our chocolate lab. We brought her home last January when she was six weeks old. The first day with her was really easy, but the other 364 have not been. Intense is more like it. (but isn't she cute?)



In fairness to her our life was already crazy busy. It's not entirely Bristow's fault but her high-spiritedness elevates the tension level. Honestly, it was a bad idea for us to add another major commitment in this season of life. We just don't have time or patience for her high demands and energy level. She spends more time outside than she deserves.

Her sweetness is her saving grace. Just when we want to throw in the towel she gives us a glimpse into the dog she will become. And according to our vet that should be in 2 or 3 MORE years.

*cringe*

I hope that by this time next year she will have become more of a family member than just a dog. It would be nice to say that we only have one thing to return to Craiglist.

Or, maybe by this time next year she will have eaten the bunk bed.

Either way.

Here's to you, Bristow!

What if Christmas card photos told the truth?

The date is set every year. September 30th. The day I call the photographer and schedule our Christmas photos. In my opinion, the most stressful thing we do all year. Everyone needs haircuts and cute outfits. The location needs to be scouted...indoor? or out? Where? Concept? Plus everyone needs to be CLEAN on the same day.

Feel the stress? No? Maybe it's just me.

I haven't been able to let this go in the last 9 years of mothering. Could it be a *shudder* CONTROL issue? Quite possibly. The day of the appointment when the kids find out what they have to wear, Skip always gives them the same mantra.

"Your mother owns you on this day. You will wear what she says."

Niiice.

Thank goodness our photographer is a trusted friend. He knows my family. He knows that I (might) have control issues but he is kind enough to not say anything. He gets me. During our hour together he is confident to get the look that I have in my head. I trust him.

The funny thing about our photographer is that he shoots the entire time. THE ENTIRE TIME means that he gets the staging pictures. The shots no one is allowed to see. The shots that tell the real story of the Miller family.

Here is what the world sees about us. From the outside it all looks HAPPY AND WONDERFUL LIKE A FIELD OF FLUFFY KITTENS ROLLING IN COTTON CANDY. The kids look cute, I look good-ish, and Skip looks like he is having the time of his life. We could convince you that this was our reality, just by this one photo.


Here's the truth. That picture. That pose. Lasted about 1/8th of a second.

Probably.

I don't know. His shutter speed is really fast. Indulge me in saying that for 1/8th of a second, we are awesome.

For 1/8th of a second you don't see any trace of insecurity in me. You don't see that Skip really didn't want to be there. Sort of a bad month for him and he didn't want to play HAPPY AND FUN AND AWESOME for the Christmas card.

For 1/8th of a second you don't see uncooperative kids who would rather run and play in the dirt. You can't tell that I am constantly rearranging my scarf so it hides my belly and pulling up my jeans because they just don't "feel right." You don't hear me yelling at them to NOT GET DIRTY or IF YOU MESS UP YOUR HAIR...

For 1/8th of a second we appear to HAVE IT ALL TOGETHER.

And I could leave you with that impression. I think that is where a lot of women find insecurity. They see a minute glimpse of someone else's life and they immediately see how their reality stacks up against that visual.

In my experience, EPIC FAIL.

As the shutter continues to click away I see the truth about my life.

I get angry.


People fail me.


People disengage.


And sometimes it makes me want to run away.


But, in this case, I want to come back...


because I would rather have all this than nothing at all.


As for FAMILY PICTURE DAY O' FUN 2011 (aka, the "day I own the kids") I take comfort in knowing that it's still 10 months away. Maybe during that time I can work out some of my *ALLEGED* control issues.

I know you are all going to tell me to RELAX. That is probably what I would say if I were you.

And I agree.

But, sometimes, I just want to hang on to the 1/8th second of pure awesome.

"Don't go boneless!"

Everyone who has ever held a toddler's hand while leading them against their will knows the feeling of "going boneless".

You have them by the hand when suddenly all the bones in their tiny body give out and they are lying in a heap on the floor. Still holding hands you reach over and try to pull them along hoping they will find their bones and stand up. A little cooperation would be nice in that moment.

But they don't want to cooperate. They want to exert THEIR tiny little will.

"Don't go boneless," I say.

"WHYYYYY???," he cries.

"Because it's bedtime and you need sleep. It's good for you."

Compliance doesn't come easy as a toddler. Or when you are a thirty-something woman.

*sigh*

There is a THING that God is wanting me to do. A PATH He needs me to travel. He is holding my hand so I feel protected and secure.

But I really really really don't want to do "this" and go "there".

We walk along hand in hand. I feel His leading. My body goes limp, in a heap on the floor. Holding His hand is harder now. It takes work to hold on. A little cooperation would be nice in that moment.

But I don't want to cooperate. I want to exert MY tiny little will.

"Don't go boneless," He says

"WHYYYYY???," I cry.

"Because it's good for you and I love you."