Category: Daily Mill

Life and Super Tuesday

.Reading time 3 minutes.

I love my kids, but it’s time for them to move from the top. Run along children.

My mind keeps wondering these days.  So many people are dealing with intense stuff right now that it just seems insensitive to post a normal “me” (silly & shallow) post.  Also, the next post I was going to put up here was a complainy old thing about my kids always being sick. With Savannah’s death, and baby Brennan in the hospital it seemed pretty obnoxious.  Thank you God for my snotty-nosed kids!  I will try not to complain again as I wipe their boogers and smear cream on their chapped cheeks.  God has a way of showing us the larger picture doesn’t he?  At least he causes me to realize that I’m not the only person on the planet, even if I live like I am.  Life is such a journey.

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Life also includes American politics. Last at the supper table Gene and I were arguing about today.   He says McCain has the r nomination wrapped up.  I say Romney is going to surprise us all and crush McCain. Ok not crush, but win.  I was so sure about this I tried and tried to get him to bet me, but he didn’t do it. (He’s more godly than me) We both say “Huckabee you’re a nice guy and all, but it’s time to move on.”

And as far as the democrats go, I still stand by the persuasion that Hillary has the nomination.  I think Gene actually kind of agrees with me on this, but I really hope I’m wrong.  Except sometimes I find myself wanting her to be ahead in the polls, just so I can be right. How pathetic is that?

Wondering…Are there any other dorky, menno moms who like to follow politics?

Also, how wise is it to post this when in a few short hours I’ll be proven wrong… or right?!

 

Notes from Last Weekend

.Reading time 3 minutes.

   Pros:

       My mom & sis visit me
     No meal planning required

Cons: 

No chest to rest my bleary-eyed, messy-haired head upon.  Oh wait, I could have rested it upon Elena’s but she’s not as broad as Gene.  Plus her little feet were too busy digging into my gut and pushing me away.  And her hand was busy stroking my ear, which is not at all romantic coming from your three year old child.

No funny drywall stories that make me laugh until I cry.  Like the time he picked up a glue tube only to discover it was full of pee, (not his) and dumped it over himself.  Those drywallers are a scary bunch.

No sighing loudly in the middle of the night and poking his arm just to wake him up.  Because I am awake.  Because one of the children is awake.  And he promised “for better or for worse”, and I take that very seriously.  So seriously that I must wake him up to experience the “for worse” with me.

We had phone calls to update each other’s lives. I don’t like ‘em.

No glancing out my window and seeing the rugged man himself chasing an errant heifer or delivering a newborn calf.

No one to take out my trash. I might break a nail, you see. (Of course I saved the bags for him, I don’t like for him to get too rusty with his abilities)

No one to tell my dreams to.  Oh wait, I did tell Sherry about the dream I had about her needing to go back to Ohio to pick up some anti-diarrhea medication.  Like we don’t sell that in PA or something. 

So it’s really great to have Gene back into my life.  Now we can get on with our busy schedules, daily fun chit-chats, and obsessive cereal eating.

Anyway, I had a great time with mom, Sherry, and Sherry’s children. (city slicker Miller kids, that don’t actually live in the city)  I don’t know if they had much fun though, because we didn’t  do much but laze around my place.   We were going to do some cool things, but all the kids got sick.  Yup that’s right.  So instead of doing cool things, we brewed pots of coffee and lazed around all weekend.  I didn’t do much work because, well, I didn’t.  I get all lazy when I’m around my mom, and then she picks up my slack and does my work for me.

Here’s the quote of the weekend
Gene’s dad walked in the house

Wynn asking Elena:” Is that your grandpa?”

Elena: “No, it’s my daddy’s grandpa”

Wynn(knowingly):  “Oh, then he’s your uncle”