The Sssssss Word

The story is for all of you who wake up in the middle of the night with that feeling something is watching you......

So lying in bed, I had an uneasy feeling for about half an hour that I couldn't shake and I ended up getting up and wandering into the bathroom at about 5 AM this morning. My cat was standing in the corner with her paws on something in the doorway… After my blurry vision had receded is a little bit I realize what she was playing with wasn't my shoelace but a snake.... Gives new meaning to the old adage "if it was a snake, it would've bitten me." That is how close I was standing....

Of course The Miller Snake Killing team was flying at half mast that night and I was trapped in the bathroom with the snake across the threshold.... I should probably take this moment to mention that it was a copperhead.
Okay okay, I should also take this moment to mention that it was not a full-grown copperhead. But to a snake-chicken like me, that is negligable.

You know the younger ones are more venomous right? I'm pretty sure I learned that from one of the snake books Noah makes me read before he goes to bed. Instant death in my bathroom striking out at my cat. I did what any reasonable person would do trapped in the bathroom with a snake and a cat.

I climbed up on the counter.

At This point I'm still trying to be sort of quiet because the boys are fast asleep in the next room. I don't even flush the toilet when the kids are asleep for fear of waking them up! Screaming bloody murder was out of the question.

From my perch, I collected my thoughts. Obviously it was me or the snake. Someone had to die and it was not going to be me. Dinah (the cat) removed herself from the fatal equation with her amazing superpower of being completely unaffected (nay, delighted!) by snake. The entire time the little thing is striking and she's grabbing it by the head and flinging around like a ragdoll. This is one of those moments where I regretted declawing her. Cotton paws are pretty and effective against Satan reptiles.

Moving on.

After talking myself down (literally), I sprinted to my closet where I perused my many weapons of choice.... Shoes. See Tyler, it's a good thing I have so many! Shoes saved my life!

After selecting a hefty wedge sandal, I grab the kids potty stool and creep back to where the snake is. With both feet tucked under me on the stool, I grab my wedge sandal and start hammering at that snake's head until it finally stops trying to strike.

Sadly, there is now blood on my wedged sandal. And on my nice clean bathroom floor. And ground in snake grey matter , which if you're interested is actually grey by the way. But there is also a dead snake are there used to be a live one. So I will take that. Dinah stares accusingly up at me. She is seriously ticked off.

Phase two.

As I move the snake over with a topsy tail loop ( you remember those from the 90s! I still have mine!), I realize that it is totally not dead. But by this time it I can skip out of the bathroom and go grab my real weapon of choice which is a chef's knife. The bane of all snakes on Winged Foot. At least that's what I would name it if it were a sword. The next part was mostly me holding him down with tongs and sawing at his head with a knife. The rest, as they say, is history. I won't go into gory detail but I will say this. I am reminded of that scene from the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe were Aslan tells Peter to clean off the blood off of his sword every time after battle.

Everyone is happy.

Except the snake.
And Dinah.

And of course I was not able to go back to sleep because of the willies I had.... Instead, I read my psychological thriller about a missing girl which seem to far less scary than the scene I had just encountered in the bathroom.

Top 10 Peeves of 2013

So here we are, 2014! Hope you all are looking forward to a hopeful new year; I know that I am, especially after the first few days of this year are really looking easy to improve upon. New Year's day looked a little like this: I was awakened by blue children, yes blue. So this set me out of bed searching for the source. Of course, it was paint. Of course it was acrylic. Which we don't even own, so apparently had been purchased on the toddler black market with crayon stubs and smuggled in. This incident, not wanting to go gently into that good morning, was later eclipsed by my almost five year old completely forgetting everything he ever learned in Miller Potty Boot Camp three year previously. Followed up, of course, by a close third, but extremely irritating, smashing and repairing of the same toy thrice.
Never mind that this toy had been in commission only 15 measly minutes. It didn't take long for Baby Miller to discover the joy of inter-toy play by jamming in a furry worm toy into the gears of said newly commissioned mechanical toy. I tell you, it was no easily won battle to disentangle the fishing wire but spurred on by disappointed toddler tears, (which seems to be my primary motivational force these days), I screw-drivered my way to victory. (Which I KNOW isn’t a word, but screwing my way to victory seemed a bit off-putting and easily mis-interpretable…. Which also isn’t a word)
Little did I remember that a battle won does not win the war. I’ve never been a history buff...so this applied to me double fold - when not remembered, it tends to repeat itself. In this case, three more times before this toy got shelved. Permanently. This time, no amount of disappointed toddler tears was able to move my heart of stone. Thanks but no thanks, Santa.

 That being said, here are my Top 10 Peeves of 2013
10. Being Lawyered by my Four-year old
"Gigi, are you working tomorrow? No? Good, then I can spend the night, right? I’ll go get my things."
9. Not getting naptime to diffuse.
 "But Finny said he WANTED to open all the windows and throw the legos on the lawn!"
8. Road trips that end in long two hour long lines which when you get to the front of, someone always has to poop and you have to resign your place in line.
"Oh well, We'll just try Santa's Wonderland again next year....." (aka NOT EVER EVER AGAIN!)
 7. Merry Birthmas presents
Shout out to my December peeps. 'Nuf said.
6. 80 degree weather in December
"Ok, get those shorts out kids! You win this time. Swimming anyone?"
5. Laboring over Boeuf Bourguignon only to face yet another dinner stand-off.
 "No, you may NOT have chicken nuggets!"
 4. Fast food belly
One of the many evils of the Holidays for the Millers.... lots of not being home during meal times. Thank GOODNESS for New Years Resolutions. Except that my resolution this year is to not spend NYE alone, watching Duck Dynasty, and polishing off the leftover Christmas Egg-nog. Did I mention, ALONE?!
3. Forgetting bought groceries at the grocery store.
Because one trip isn't BRUTAL enough.
2. Running out of coffee. Closely followed by running out of wine.
I need my own stimulus elf. No joke

And the top peeve of 2013
 1. NOT spending enough time RELAXING
I can say no, I really can. See, No, no no no no no. .... ok maybe...ok what time do I need to be there. Dang. I blew it.

Hats off!

Today is silly hat day at school so, of course, my son had a very specific idea of what his silly hat absolutely had to look like. So as we are headed out the door to Grandma's house last night, my son decides to get me geared up for Pre-K Project Runway and I start to get a little impatient..... Because we already late for dinner and my son, in true Man Fashion, has chosen NOW to get his hat done. 

So I resign, mostly fueled by curiosity and relying on my negotiating skills. We got the hat picked out pretty quickly - we don't have many to choose from..... We aren't really "hat" people. Next comes the tricky step. I was informed that it needed balloons. Of course, blowing up balloons takes forever, plus I'm  envisioning a giant WWF smack down forming between the boys, contesting for said balloons, plus the inevitable meltdown that will ensue when the Baby doesn't win. So..... I start to wheel and deal..... Could it be a stuffed animal? No. What about some action figures.... That would be silly, right? No. Ok, what about some streamers ? Nope. Come on, Mom, it HAS to be balloons.  

I'm not even sure I have any! Ugh. Throwing my hands up, I'm mid-breath in my explanation of how my balloons have probably disappeared into the Wild Kid Yonder ..... Aka The Mom Brain Vortex.... And he sweetly and silently goes into my bedroom, and returns with exactly 5 balloons. "Four for me, one for Finny."

Nice.

Next time, I'll know who to ask when I lose my iPad again. Or my keys. Or my coffee cup. Or my brain. Yikes.

Of course, they are the balloons that take superman breath to blow up because their necks are so minuscule ..... So I huff and puff my way to Silly Hat Toddler Bliss. And
even Finny gets his very own balloon..... Which he treated like a whoopee cushion and promptly sat on and popped. Don't even get me started on how he knows what a whoopee cushion is. 

Next, he unveils his specifications on where and how the balloons are to be tied on. It's
a very tedious process trying to please a four yr old with a vision.  And viola, the hat is done, just as the Baby melts down about his popped balloon and just in time for me to snatch up the balloon pieces before he stuffs the in his mouth and bites me. 

So as my swaggering child heads off to his school this morning, I have to say, I was pretty proud of his ingenuity, as he turned heads this morning. He was the envy of the school. I foresee more balloon hats in the Silly Hat days of the Future. Way to go, little trend setter. My hat's off to you, Big Guy.

Kill the Pig!

This morning, Noah sent me snorting into my coffee with his callousness over his carnivorous-ness.....

The scene: our kitchen - I had made some "boasted egg" (Noah-ism for poached eggs) and tomorrow is store day....

Noah: Can I have some bacon w my boasted eggs?
Me: I'm sorry, we don't have any.... But if you remind me tomorrow, we can get some at HEB.
Noah (parroting something he has heard me say many many times before)  that's ok, Mom. We can just make some from scratch!
Me: (trying to put him off the subject) That would involve buying a pig....
Noah: ok! Great! Let's kill a pig, Where do we buy a pig?

I dropped said eggs on the floor. Look at what I started! Nice work, Mom.

Noah: Something something something about me holding the pig down while he lopped off a leg.... Because after all, there were only two of us and one haunch should suffice. Apparently, I signed up for The Real Housewives of Conroe, the Lord of the Flies version. *

Me: (picking my jaw up from the egg splattered tiled floor) uh...Pretty sure it would be easier just to go to the store and get bacon at this point. (I must have looked pretty shocked because this is what he said next:)
Noah: Quit your crying, Taffeta! I'm only joking. I'll just take some waffles! (Which I'm sure will entail milking a cow and finding some chickens to collect eggs from...and building a Bear Grylls-worthy waffle iron from chicken wire)

No matter how you slice it, Mighty Bacon cannot lose its magic under this roof. At least no one can ever accuse me of beating it around the bush when it come to the origin of breakfast meat. No quams in this family. At. All.

Should I be a little worried?

Nah





*Originally left this out because it sounds like I've been letting my preschooler watch Saw 4, but Tyler insisted that I add it back in. Real life won't be hampered, evidentially 

Pot Head

Oh, how we lose our innocence as we age....

Standing in the kitchen, breaking down four heads of broccoli .... Yes, four (My kids eat it like candy, weirdly enough), Noah starts shouting from the playroom.

"Finny is a pot head! Finny is a pot head!" And giggling hysterically.

The blood drains from my face as I contemplate where he could have possibly heard, and learned to apply this euphemism  Girding my loins, and putting on my "calm face" to prepare for this unpleasant .... Well, verbal beat-down.... Noah implores, "Look, mom!"

I cannot hide from the inevitable discipline any longer and I hold my breath and turn.....

To see this:

Crisis averted. 

Boom Boom Boom...Mr Brown is a wonder! Boom Boom Boom...Mr. brown Makes Thunder!

My son has a fish. Correction. He has three fish.... Correction...HAD three fish. So maybe this story should start like this

Once Upon a Time, there were three fish in town,

Larry, Barry, and Mr. Brown.

And they lived very happily in a fish tank
In a little boy's bathroom - sometimes rank.

And they did the things that fishes do...
Eat and swim, swim and poo.

Until one day, Mr Brown was feeling less brown...and more blue

And flopped over like an old leather shoe!

It was a terrible sight for me and you,
Oh dear, what's a Mother to do.....

So with a flush and a flurry, 

He was floated down the pipes in a hurry.

But what of the boy, you might ask? 

Well, that's where my story will task.

So he was sat down soberly to hear this sad tale,

Thinking the son would sob and wail.

He was told  "Mr Brown is dead"
There was no crying, but instead

He was silent and with queer look,

He insightfully queried "Mr Brown from the book?!"

Because as you will recall,

Dr Seuss has this character in a book for the small.

        Mr Brown, Mr Brown,
        Mr Brown is out of town

        He can sound like a cow

        He can go moo moo.... and all that hullabaloo

I'm sure you'll recall the Mr Brown this child had hoped

Had met his end in exchange for his fishy bloke.

Unfortunately, his parental guides,

Could not hide their laughter inside!

They peeled out their wanton snorts and guffaws

And, horrified, tried to stifle the ha-has.

And that poor little lad, cried out "It's not funny!"

As he watched his parents still gripping their tummies. 

Quickly they sobered and said, "No, the fish."

And that sweet little lad balled up his tight fists.

And the jest was long over, but the laughter still escaped,

That sweet tiny voice was hard to mistake,

As he looked at his lunatic parents in awe, 

Thinking, how could his old Ma and Pa

Deliver this terrible news with such joviality,

As they tried to explain the joke so sincerely,

The mix up the name had unwittingly brought,

And the laughter it caused by the mis-thought
Of a book character being striken with gout,
And flushed down the potty, a watery out.

So before you bring down your gavel with ease,
Give one second of thought, please,
Of a time of untimely gayity expressed,
And remember those around you so un-impressed.

And needless to say, there's a happy ending,
As Daddy nips out to the store, fish pending.
He'll swoop in as fast as Santa's swift feet,
And put Mr. Brown Two in this namesake's old keep.

      

        

Noahisms #2

It's time for more Noah-isms! No introduction required. Here's Noah's TopTen Countdown !

10) Noah: What are the holes in the bottom of the swing for?
Me: So that they don't fill up with rain.
Noah:  (dismissively) No, no....it's so that our bottoms can breathe!

9) N: Does it smell like tacos in here?
Me: (sniffing the van air) Maybe a little
N: That's because I'm tooooooting!!!

Could be worse...

8) N: How do you put on a rocket pack?
Me: I don't know, Hon.
N: Maybe you should ask Siri!...... When I get big, and I marry you, THEN I can tell you!

Guess Siri didn't provide a satisfactory answer.....

7) Noah: Is Dinah (the cat) eating lentils????

Never thought of Purina Cat Chow that way...

6) Noah: God is like a Super Hero!!!! Because he saves kids from sin!

5) N: If you see a man with a black mustache, a black hat, and two bags of money, that's a bad guy. If you leave him alone, he'll leave you alone!
Me: Like a bee????
N: Or a wasp.... Or a turtle..... Or a chicken

Admittedly, some of those chickens can be kind of bad-guy-ish..... Nevermind sharks, it's the chickens we have to look out for!

4) Daddy: (furious) YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO US!!! Because ...... WE MADE YOU!!!
Noah: (sniggers imp-like, exasperated) You're not God!

Oh man.... Who knew Sunday School would backfire on that one..haha

3) While cleaning out the garage....
Noah (holding Tyler's football): Let's play football!
Me: Nonononononononono (panicked, I snatch the ball from him) I'm sorry! We can't play with that ball.... It stays in the case!
Noah: Why??
Me: Because someone very important (Kurt Warner!)  wrote his name on it and we don't want it to get messed up!
Noah: (indignant) Why isn't MY name on it?!

Good question ;)

2) On Tyler's Birthday
N: Twenty-eight is my FAVORITE number!
Me: What do you think you'll be doing when YOU'RE 28?
N: I'll build trucks.... I'll be a construction mechanic
Me: Where will you live?
N: I'll live next-door to our old house.
Me: Who will you live with? Will you be married?
N: I'll marry Jamma and Papa.....OR I think I can get married to Ms. Meg or somebody who didn't get married....like a girl.
Me: And will you have children?
N: (gravely) No, I'll be too old to have children

BAM!

And the best and final one....

1) N: Can I watch 'Time to shoot?'
Me: (horrified and confused) You want to watch WHAT???!!!!!!?
N: You know...the movie...with the bear..... 'Time to Shoot'.......
(Light dawns!)
Me: OOOOOHHHHHHH (almost weeping with relief) You mean 'Open Season!'

Whew!