Tuesday, November 17, 2009

If looks could kill

Saturday morning Hubby and I took the girls for our annual Christmas card picture shoot. It's a daunting task; taking pictures of your own kids, especially when it's the first time the darlings have seen their father (a.k.a. their favorite human in the world) in a week.

It was apparent after 2 minutes that nothing short of duct tape would get them in a picture together, so I focused on one darling at a time.

It is no surprise that Ashlyn came through with flying colors. In fact, I ended up with about 12 good shots of her.

This pose was actually her idea -

As I've mentioned previously; Kenly is somewhat difficult when it comes to picture taking. The child REFUSES to look at the camera if and when it's in front of my face. I have approximately 5 pictures of her running away from me and 7 or so in which she is giving me "the look."

"I am NOT going to give in, Mom. I'm just not."

This particular adventure ended with me and Kenly both crying and Allen mumbling something about taking the kids by himself next year. Alas, today I am (Again) thankful for the husband and his mustering the ONE and ONLY smile out of Kenly that day and even more thankful that the Canon was on my face and my finger was at the ready when it happened. That ONE picture plus one of 12 I have to choose from of Ash will comprise our card this year. When you receive it in the mail; please take a minute and appreciate the trouble I go through to make the darned thing happen.

Cheers!

P.S. Notice the shoe in the background of Kenly's pic? That would be from her plopping down, taking her shoes off and throwing them. Before it was over the skirt was given the same treatment. I need a xanax just thinking about it all..

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Oh, it's just some refried beans and Yoplait.

I'm not exactly sure what I did to deserve this:

But golly, I wouldn't trade her for a million other squeaky clean kids. I am also abundantly thankful for baby wipes given that this is the scene at my house every night. Don't get me wrong, a mess of these propprtions certainly will need a run through the bath tub, but one must slightly de-noodle before being transported from point A to point B.

I am afraid this child is going to grow up with a fear of touching things due to the nightly "NO MA'AM. DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING. NOTHING. STRAIGHT TO THE BATHTUB." On second thought, no - I'm not worried about that at all. My concern lies with her hearing ability. Because no matter how loudly or how often the above is yelled at-um, I mean spoken to her in a sweet motherly way she still manages to leave bean-y, yogurt-y, ketchup-y handprints everywhere. Hmm.

Cheers!

Monday, November 9, 2009

Not a Woman of my word..

I was determined to post every day, and believe me I certainly have enough reasons to be thankful to warrant a post every day. I simply failed. But you all will forgive me. Or you won't. Whatev.
Moving along...


My darling husband is a sound sleeper. Like, I’m convinced that if I were to (one night after he’s asleep) call all of our friends, have them pile into the bedroom, fill them full of liquor and crank some heavy metal jams he would simply adjust his snoring rhythm to match the music and stay nicely tucked away in dreamland. (I may need to test this theory….)


*He's going to KILL me for posting this - it was after a day of swimming on vacation*
Over the course of our marriage his nightly nocturnal coma has created some interesting predicaments. Until recently the funniest (also scariest) incident happened when Ashlyn was a newborn. I asked him around 3 a.m. to get me a bottle and after stumbling and fumbling around for 15 minutes or so he returned with a tiny little baby bottle full of Dr. Pepper. I’m not kidding. And he was absolutely positive that I requested a bottle of Dr. Pepper. For a 2 week old.

The latest episode went like this:

*I woke up around 12:30 one night to the sound of our house alarm….I wrestle Allen to wake him*

K: Babe, wake up – the alarm is going off…. BABE! WAKE UP!

A: Oh… ok…

*Al Stumbles off… after a minute or two the alarm stops screaming. He gets back in bed with a growl *

K: Thanks, babe… did you turn the alarm back on?

A: Oh… no…


* he rolls back out of bed, again stumbles to the front door…stumbles back to bed*

K: Wow; that’s really scary – someone just tried to break in our house…

*Allen SPRINGS out of bed; grabs the baseball bat and starts looking out of the window*

A: WHAT? Someone tried to break in?? Huh??

K: That’s usually why an alarm goes off in the middle of the night. Yes, dear.

*Allen is still scouring the yard from the window; still with bat in hand*

K: Honey; it’s been 5 minutes since the alarm went off, and I’m pretty sure it scared them away at that point. Whoever it was is gone now. You can come back to bed.

Suffice it to say; I am now in charge of any midnight burglaries that take place in the McMillan household as my husband is liable to get confused and rob his own house rather than protecting it.

Even though he's like a fat momma bear in hibernation when he sleeps - I am 125 % thankful for that beautiful, hot, sexy, strong, caring, thoughtful, intelligent, supportive and hilarious man that snores loudly in the bed next to me.

Cheers!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Sir Dickens, you done me right.

A family of vampires that sparkle. A woman who leaves her negligent husband and takes her daugher across country. A friendship that spans a lifetime. A love that transcends centuries.

Books offer me an escape into another world, into an alternate reality; they provide me with profound lessons and provoking thoughts. They allow me to explore and experience life through someone else's eyes and in ways that I would otherwise never get the chance.

They, at times, make my husband angry.

"Kayla... it's 3 in the morning, turn the light OFF and go to sleep."

"But, BUUUUTT"

"Let me guess. The girl who reminds you of yourself is about to make a life changing discovery about her past while slaying magical dragons and castrating all of the male species and it's just getting to the good part so you can't possibly stop now"

"NO!, well - sort of; BUT she does it ALL while wearing pumps. She's BRILLIANT! Just ONE more chapter babe, promise.'


Although they may well cause the dissolution of my marriage; today I am thankful for books. And authors. And publishing companies. And, well you get the drift.


Cheers!

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Who brought lizard girl?

This is tomorrow's post, only it's here today. But it's still the post intended for tomorrow. Got it?

Around October 12th of every year the powder keg fairy begins nightly visits to my house. This fairy must be a devout little creature, too; EVERY night I practically drench myself in lotion only to awaken EVERY morning with scales. I'm not kidding. Thank Heavens my husband is gone 5 days a week because this epidermis is rough. I'm just waiting for him to come home and use my leg to sharpen his knives. He has many of them. My husband is a hunter/gatherer.

But I digress. (You can uncrinkle your face... it's my random and decidedly unfunny humor creeping in. I can't help it.)

Ah, who cares? He did vow to love me in sickness and in health, with scaly skin and with smooth skin, right? Yup. I'm for sure that was part of the whole deal.


So today, no tomorrow, no, NO TODAY I am thankful for lotion. The lotion that I use in effort to (albeit in vain) (I almost typed vein) (which might work better) halt my progression towards becoming a reptile.

**I'm not sure if it's the wine or the late hour but in re-reading this mess I can't find one coherent thought. But I'm not rewriting it. Apologies..

Cheers!

He was afraid of this

It was late. The lights in the house were low. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, an almost empty bottle of wine. Sweet, soft music was echoing in the background and there we were. The two of us.

We knew he was coming home soon, any minute now. But it had been so long, and not even his imminent arrival would deter us from enjoying the evening we’d planned.


Just as we nestled by the fire to enjoy our succulent dessert together, we heard it. The garage door was opening; it was him. There was no time to cover our tracks. He had surely already seen the car that didn’t belong in the driveway and any second he would open the door and find us there. Like that.



And he did. He opened the door and with that crooked smile that still knocks me to my knees said "Am I interrupting somthing?" He also took a picture – I suppose for evidence.


Today I am thankful for friends who sacrifice their precious time to come and hang with me when Allen is gone. They make me feel human, they help me remember that there is more to me than being a mom and they provide me with an adult outlet - to share thoughts and hopes and stories with when Allen is miles away. This small group of miracle workers will never know how much their time and presence means to me.
**Please excuse my scariness in this picture. It was after Halloween at work and not a stitch of makeup was in sight.. it's frightening.
CHEERS!

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

From a song to a state of mind

We are sick all the time. No, seriously – I think I have the sickest family south of the Mason-Dixon Line, and it seems that no amount of Lysol or Clorox wipes or Purel can keep germs from invading our house and bodies and causing us days of misery. I’ve had many breakdowns; deciding that I’m an absolute failure at parenting because I cannot seem to keep my kids (or myself) healthy.

Early last week I started to feel the throat tickle; you know- the warning sign that within a day or two you’ll be laid up in bed with tissues hanging out of your swollen nose and a scarf tied around your vapo-rubbed neck while trying to pour scalding hot tea down your throat because the burn feels so good? Yeah. That one.

As the boys of Cross Canadian Ragweed so profoundly stated; I was sick and tired of being sick and tired so I fought the throat tickle. I fought it with all my might. First, I stole my kids’ orange juice. All of it. Chugged it like a teenager at a keg party. Then I grabbed the bottle of Vitamin C tablets, opened it and took one out. One?! ONE?? I turned that bottle up and let the orangey pills pour into my mouth; I was NOT going to let the throat tickle get me this time. It wouldn’t. It COULDN’T.

It worked. I didn’t get sick. For that reason; today I am thankful for Vitamin C.
Cheers!

Monday, November 2, 2009

A month of thankfulness..

I’m going to put a serious effort towards posting every day this month; each post either revolving around or at least mentioning something I’m thankful for at that moment. We’ll see how long this lasts. I’ve got money on 2 days…. Any other takers?

Today; I am thankful for toilet paper. That’s right –I’m paying homage to the sometimes quilted, always reliable, and positively pillowy soft rolls of necessity that help us all rid ourselves of sh- er, uh; that make our lives easier (and certainly cleaner.)

Cheers!