Mama Miller Parenting

Passionate parenting and homemaking.


Holy cow… Two nights in a row of minimal sleep. My neurons are fried. I know that I survived having a newborn twice, but you eventually get used to sleep again.

K, the three year old, fought sleep last night. Our usual early sleeper was still peaking his head out of his room and trying to stay awake until about 10:30.

Andy left for his second overnight shift at 11. I snuggled down into the covers and drifted off to dream land- a place filled with spas, coffee, and chocolate chip cookie dough.

My dream-cation with the worlds biggest salted caramel latte was short lived. I was jarred from my imaginary massage by the classic battle cry of, “MOM!”

I begrudgingly rush down the hall to discover that K had peed all over the bathroom. I’m pretty certain that no square inch of the floor was spared from this shower. It was even on the carpet outside the door.

This kid hasn’t had a nighttime accident in months! He never even gets up to pee in the middle of the night.

Why? Why dear child? Why are you and sister determined to keep mommy up when daddy is working nights? You usually sleep so soundly.

The only scenario I can fathom goes like this:
K: Ok sister, we will not stand for this “daddy works at night and we have to let him sleep during the day” nonsense. We must protest!
E: *excited squeal and clapping*
K: Good job with the “cough” last night. I’ll take over tonight with the classic pee gag. They will soon know the might of tiny wills. *maniacal laugh while twirling his pretend mustache*
E: *giggles*

Ok, maybe I am starting to loose it.


When the plague strikes

We had big plans for today.

Yesterday I went on a cleaning/laundry spree when my husband was at work. I washed ever item in a growing avalanche of dirty clothes. My bed was covered in piles and piles of folded clothes.

After our birthday festivities this weekend, the plan was to get the house in order on Monday and enjoy my husband’s day off on Tuesday. We dreamed of finally having a relaxing day at home.

Plans are funny things…

It started with E. Our sweet baby girl decided to celebrate her new one year old status with a bout of wicked teething. It was like having a newborn all over again. I could not get that girl to sleep more than a few minutes at a time for anything.

I finally resigned myself to a night on the couch holding the flopping space heater that was my little teether.

Then at 1am I heard a heaving from my sons room. My husband came running and discovered that K, our 3 year old, was barfing all over his bed.

After a wash cloth bath, a change of clothes and sheets, and a dose of tummy meds he was back asleep… For all of 30 minutes.

More barfing, bathing, and changing ensued. K ended up in our bed with Andy. I dozed and comforted E in the living room.

By day break my empty laundry room was again filled with clothes and bedding.


So much for plans. By lunchtime I too was having issues.

Illness stinks for anyone, but it is especially hard on parents. There are no sick days for moms.

A few things we’ve discovered that make yucky days smoother:

•Keep crackers, pedialyte, or other sick day snacks on hand.
•Sick days are good movie days. We don’t do much TV, but today was a movie day.
•Bust out the puzzles, books, color books, and other quiet play activities.
•Keep it simple. Don’t over-stretch yourself, or you won’t be good for anyone.
•Drop cloths! In the event of stomach issues, we throw a blanket or sheet over the furniture the kids will be on. A 3 year old won’t always make it to the toilet.
•Even if you can’t fold it, keep the laundry going. You don’t want to run out of clean sheets, blankets, or towels.

Any other tips for dealing with a sickly family?


A Public Notice…

This is a public notice to my family:
If you, dear ones, do not return DVDs to their proper cases, you will experience full motherly/wifely wrath.

Our wireless router died this week. No router means no Netflix on our Wii. It also means watching movies. Our TV isn’t going all the time, but we do watch a little.

K requested Cars 2 this afternoon. In my search for it I discovered at least 6 empty cases piled up on the DVD player.

Where are these DVDs going?

Is the same black hole that eats socks going after them?

I start checking all the cases while fighting off E, who is pursuing DVDs like a starved jungle cat after the last steak. I match about 20 movies back to their original cases. I finally find the Cars 2 DVD behind the entertainment center with dust, an old remote, and a few other movies.

Really dear family? Setting a DVD on top of the entertainment center to be knocked off sounded like a better plan than taking two seconds to return it to the case?

I set E by her toys for the millionth time and get ready to put it in when I hear, “Mom, I need new pants!” from the bathroom.

I discovered K had leaked on his underpants and gotten water all down the front of him. After showering my begrudging preschooler, I was urging him to get dressed while E protested from the living room.

“Put your underpants on, please.”
“I don’t want Batman underpants! I want Va-vengers!”
“Fine. Here is Ironman.”
“No, I want Thor or Pawk-eye!”

After an angry 3 year old hissy fit, his choices then became taking a nap naked or putting on the underpants and taking a rest.

All because of DVD negligence people…

Don’t we have some left over birthday cupcakes around here?

Hurry up and nap my little darlings.

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Sleep deprivation rears it’s ugly head

I’m pretty sure every parent has lived this scenario:

You are sitting and talking to a friend… a childless friend.

Maybe they are married. Maybe they aren’t. They could be a student. It doesn’t matter.

Suddenly they start telling you how tired they are. Working overtime, studying, late night with friends, just not sleeping well- again it doesn’t matter. They have suddenly become public enemy #1.

You put on a polite smile but the few non-fried neurons you have left are screaming.

Really? REALLY?! You want to talk about tired? Are you sure friend? I don’t think you want to get into it with me about tired. I have kids. You can’t even begin to understand tired. Tired is trying to put a dirty diaper in the fridge and leaving the baby’s bottle sitting on the hood of the car. Tired is not getting a full night of sleep for months on end. Tired is hearing “mommy” for the billionth time in a two hour time frame. Tired is being a human tissue every day. It is being covered in snot and having Cheerios in your hair. Tired is getting comfortable and snuggled down in bed and then hearing a squawk come across the monitor. Extremely tired is when you are so out of it you try to nurse the pillow in your sleep when you hear the squawk from the monitor. So do you really want to tell me how tired you are?!

Hopefully, you don’t really say this to your childless friends.

There is a lesson in this though…

Not-yet-parents/not-planning-on-kids folks: Take it easy on your friends with kids. The patience they used to have is gone. It gets used up on the kids. They just don’t have much left for regular people. Cut them some slack and remove any stickers or cereal they may have stuck to their clothes. Avoid comments on the dark circles that have taken up permanent residence under their eyes.

Parents: Cut your childless friends some slack too. They just don’t know. Their lives are tiring too. When you were in college, you griped about staying up for a week during exams. You probably complained about lack of sleep plenty of times during your pre-kid years and, if you are reading this, I’m guessing no parents shanked you for it.

Remember to love each other!

Today I actually did bring a diaper to the kitchen with me… Oh, and I managed to put a huge dash of cayenne pepper into the pan today instead of cumin. My kids are almost 1 and 3 years, imagine someone with a newborn.


No more butts

I am very tired of naked little boy bottom showing up in my living room. I’m also tired of grimy unwashed potty hands touching things and stuff being left in the toilet.

K has gotten bad about running out of the bathroom post-pee and giving me a blow by blow of events. While I am proud of him for going potty, I really don’t need to know his progress between each step.

“I need to go potty mom!”
“Then go potty…”

“I pottied mom!”
“Don’t touch that toy. Go flush, get dressed, and wash your hands.”

“I flushed!”
“Put your underpants on and wash your hands.”

“I’m dressed!”
“Did you wash your hands?”
“No, I’ll go wash them.”

At least five times every day.

It gets exhausting. He knows what he is supposed to do but won’t do it without prompting.

I’d finally had it up to my eyeballs.

I am not an artist at all but I decided to make him a reminder. He can’t read much yet but he knows “stop”. I made it simple and easy to follow and added pictures.

Here it is:


We went over it a few times. I set it up like a role play. We pretended he went potty and went through his steps before he leaves the bathroom.

He picked out the construction stickers to hang it. Here he is with his biggest goober smile:


It was fun for him and (hopefully) sanity saving for me. It is another example of teaching your children. You have to make it interesting for the little ones or it won’t stick.

Anyone else have an aspiring nudist?


What sorcery is this?!

I am not an artist. I love crafts but my drawing abilities rate just below most third graders.

I can, however, handle a basic stick figure, especially when I am bored.

I am bored.

Today is my first day substitute teaching this semester. I am in content mastery and there have been zero kids so far.

To top it off I am going on minimal sleep and my coffee cup is already empty. Our AC went out last night. We were going to tough it out but it was still in the 90s last night (ah Texas) and the kids were crying and sweating instead of sleeping.

We finally got them to sleep at my parents’ house after 11pm and they both popped up around 6am. So tired.

Anyway, this is my follow up to yesterday’s post.


Update: This is my husband’s suggested follow up. Gotta love Princess Bride.


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I am Mom, watch me find it.


We have a strange phenomenon that takes place in our house on an (almost) daily basis. It baffles my husband and son.

You see, when something is lost in our house, it becomes invisible. It just ceases to exist. Poof! Gone. No one will find it…

Except Mom. I have a super power. I see the lost things. I hone in on them with some sort of freakish echolocation.

Andy has decided it must be some sort of weird black magic. He opens a drawer, nothing. I open it and pull out the exact shirt he wanted.

The same thing happens with K.

“Mom, where is my cup?”
“Look in your room.”

A few minutes later:
“I can’t find my cup!”
I open his door. It is right there.

It is frustrating on my side of the equation too. I love being needed but being the designated finder does take a toll on my nerves. You know, the whole great power/great responsibility thing.

Although I do prefer the super power theory to the alternative- my family having selective blindness.


Underpants and Circuses


K: Mom, free-pee-oh’s underpants are coming out! His underpants are showing.
Me: What do you mean?
K: *points to the middle of CP30* See? His underpants are coming out! That’s silly.
Me: No honey, those are his circuits, not underpants.
K: *giggles* Silly free-pee-oh! Your circus is showing.

I love this kid.

E is finally getting over this cold. My long weekend was mostly spent holding a feverish, pitiful, clingy baby. She was well enough yesterday for us to make it to the family Labor Day party.

Can I just say, babies everywhere!

I love our crazy big family.

I hope everyone had a great long weekend. God bless!

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