Category: Family

Have you ever seen a more handsome boy? Of course, I am a little partial!

In Mississippi if your social status does not qualify you for an invitation to join the country club, you put in a pool. If you don’t have the money for that, you purchase and above ground pool (I love how the TV ads always end with “Land owners only, please”. As if to say, “we don’t care how long the double wide has been in your family, if the deed to land surrounding it doesn’t have YOUR name on it, we ain’t brining you a pool or the free deck”). And if you’re just “dirt- flo’- po'”, as we are, you just pull out the sprinkler and watch your kids turn the yard to mud. (You might be wondering why I skipped over the plastic wading pool- any seasoned Mississippian knows that one good tornado and that pool will be blown back to the Wal-Mart from whence it came.)

Wilson had his first experience playing in the sprinkler this weekend. He and Tate had a blast. Tate views the water coming from the sprinkler much like the bubbles coming from the lawn mower- it must be eliminated. I wish I could attach the video of it- Wilson was just rolling at Tate, the cutest laugh you’ve ever heard. He finally got the hang of what was going on and started waving his hands through the streams of water. He had a great time. Unfortunately, Tate’s 17 pound body can only hold so much water so he had to spend the rest of the evening outside, shall we say, “draining”.

A few more updates-
Wilson has become even more enamored with his Daddy than he already was. One day I was checking my email and had the back door open. I heard this metal on concrete scrapping sound and went out to find Wilson holding both parts of the pooper scooper in his hands exactly as you’re supposed to hold them. He looked up at me and said “Daddy”. I don’t know if he was telling me he was being like Daddy or if he was letting me know that the pooper scooper is Daddy’s toy, but it was too cute. He also goes through the closet pulling the sleeve of each of Phil’s shirts saying daddy, daddy, daddy. All day long it’s daddy, daddy, daddy. He looks for him everywhere, if he sees a grey car he thinks it’s daddy’s, if he hears me open the door to the garage he says “daddy?” thinking he’s home from work. And then when Daddy does finally walk in the door- oh boy! You have never seen a happier child.

Hopefully Wilson will be going down for a nap soon and then it’s off to Petsmart. We have a new turtle. He’s about as big around as a golf ball and we rescued him from Wilson’s great-granddaddy Pop’s dogs. Right now we’re calling him Giggle because that’s what comes out when Wilson tries to say turtle. Then I guess we’ll spend the rest of the afternoon in the sprinkler. After all, where else but in the South is warm enough for water play before Easter Sunday. Don’t tell anyone, but we’ve also been wearing open toed shoes!

We had a wonderful weekend celebrating yet another great- grandparent’s birthday. This weekend was my dad’s mother’s 90th birthday. It was great to see so much family and friends together. Her brother and sister were both able to come as well as all her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. To the left is a picture of Wilson with Nan. I’m also including a photo of me with her mother when we were both about their ages. Seeing Nan with Wilson has really brought back some fun memories I have of her mother whom we all called Buba (correctly spelled Bubber for some reason- it must be a “Delta” thing!) She crocheted booties for all my baby dolls, including my Cabbage Patch Kids that had those wierd ball shaped feet for which there was no pattern. She sat in the kitchen and instructed us on how to decorate gingermen and women at Christmas. Raisins for eyes and red hots for buttons were not enough for her- she wanted us to ice lace collers around the girl’s necks! She had a house that I thought was the biggest house ever and I couldn’t wait to go there when we got to my grandmother’s house in Greenwood. She was later moved to a nursing home and then I could wait to go get her from there and bring her to Nan’s house. I tried my best to teach her all the names of my Care Bears. I was so lucky to have three of these very special great-grands in my life- Wilson is doubly blessed to have SEVEN!! What fun memories he has ahead of him.

Well, I guess that was long enough stroll down memory lane. I have to go take the trash out. Jack got stuck under the sofa this morning chasing a ball. When I got down there to help him out, I spotted a sippy cup under the sofa. I prayed the whole time I was moving the sofa “Please be water, please be water.” I have no idea what it WAS- but now it’s black. I’m just throwing the whole cup away and on the off chance that it now has spawning capabilities, I want it out of my house!!

Pardon the pun, but that is what the last few days have been all about. Tate (one of our Wire Fox Terriers) and Wilson, laughing and barking, screaming and snapping, chasing and playing. As soon as Tate got over his initial uncertainty of Wilson when we came home from the hospital- he took right to him (see the photo below). As soon as Wilson got to be mobile he thought he was even more fun (this was the point when Jack the other WFT decided that he really wanted no part of Wilson and has been hiding under our bed sense!).

Last night I got Wilson into the bath and went in his room to put up his dirty laundry and get his room ready for bedtime. It got sort of quiet in the bathroom, so I went to check on him. There was Wilson splashing around with his good buddy Tate. Tate looked up at me with water pouring down his beard as if to say, “Isn’t this guy great. He takes a bath and let’s me drink the water!! What a pal.” Phil mentioned one night that Wilson was laying on his stomach in the tub drinking the water- I think we’ve closed the case on where he learned that!

Wilson’s latest acquisition is a Fisher Price Bubble Lawn Mower. He thinks its great although he does prefer to call it a car. The first few times he used it he would stop as soon as the bubbles would come out completely baffled as to where they came from. Bubbles are about the only thing that all three of my little boys (Jack, Tate, &Wilson) can agree on. The dogs LOVE bubbles. They go nuts- back legs several feet of the ground in an attempt to catch every last bubble blown. The mower is just too much fun for them. It makes load noises that are fun to bark at and then, at random, produces bubbles to terminate. Jack has a great time chasing them, but Tate takes it a little too serious at times. He decided to got straight to the source and runs along side Wilson with his snout in the bubble blower licking the soap thereby preventing bubble formation. Then just to really let the mower know who’s boss- he grabs onto the front tire and gives it a good shake. Wilson is infuriated- “Ta-Ta!” he screams (mimicking me, I call him Tate-Tate). Tate backs off for a brief moment, beard full of soap suds. We eventually have to put Tate in, but he continues to lay down the law from the back door window. And, yes, we mow the yard in our pajamas!!

He’s been with me since I was my smallest
& stayed around till I was my Tallest

. . .

He comforted me when I got my shots
& hung with me in all my play spots

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. . .


He comes up with the funnest games
& snuggles up with no shame

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. . .

He helped me shop for my party hats
& lays down when I take my naps

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. . .

He’s soft & sweet- it is no lie
Even my granddads have given him a try

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But now he’s lost & we’re so SAD
I can’t take my nap without this lad

Mamma’s putting up signs with letters in neon
“Lost, please help, we miss our Meon!”

Blogging With Mamma

Playing with Pop

Teaching Baby Adam how to Play “Cawrs”

Y’all can all stand around if you want, but I’m gonna stack some rocks.

My Mamma & Daddy

Daddy & Uncle Andy Getting Ready for Their Big Date

Playing in the Sand at the Park

Racing My New Cars

. . . and he’s been playing with cars for 5 months now.
Let me be the first to admit, we have a problem. (I hear admitting there’s a problem is the first step to healing) I was so excited when Wilson first expressed an interest in his toy cars and trucks. It was really fun to see him develop a “hobby” and a vocabulary to match! Just out of now where he started budn’, budn’ing one morning and we were off. He started noticing cars on the road, cars on TV, cars on his clothes. Then there were car books, sippy cups and tote bags. We have a fleet of cars and trucks and an identical “mini fleet” that travels in our bag with us everywhere we go. Thank goodness Baby Einstein came out with “On the Go”- we can now combine our TV and car/truck obsessions. We have cars on our big boy underpants that we wear every now and then. He takes a bite out of a sandwich or cracker and with that magical corner missing, wha-la! it’s a car zooming across the dinner table able to crash into the toy car that would have to be surgically removed from his hand before he’d put it down to do anything (including eat). He is now talking in his sleep and can be heard over the monitor saying “brrrrrrrrr!beep!beep!cawrs”. We go in to check on him and visually he is out cold but make no mistake- it’s Talladega and the Indy 500 going on in his head. Last night he woke at around 3 am apparently from a bad dream and could not settle down. I put him in the guest bed with me and he laid down for a while. But you can’t keep a racing man down long and before I knew it he was kicking and squirming and then standing up. I quietly said, “Wilson, you need to lay down”. He stopped, gave his paci a good suck, knelt down, got nose to nose with me, and very seriously said “CAWRS”, gave his paci another good suck, and stood back up. I’m still not sure if this was a threat or a demand. I gave up and put him in bed with his tow truck and he slept until 10 this morning.

I’m writing about this because this addiction has now crept into my life. You see, the garbage truck “Clean Carl” was covered in peanut butter. (I now know that Clean Carl is a misnomer- merely a ploy by the Playskool company to make a big, loud, scary truck fun. Clean Carl does not stay clean nor does he clean himself- do not be fooled by the innocent grin molded into his rubber grill) Peanut butter was in the indentions of his face and doors, stuck in the wheels, and worst of all in the tiny whole in the bottom that serves no purpose other than to retain just enough peanut butter to cause a mold problem. So eager to get Carl back to the fleet, I squeeze him to open the whole and turn it slightly inside out and with a toothpick begin scraping peanut butter out of the whole. I get most of it- but there is just one crumb left- I give Carl one more good squeeze- catching the web of skin between my thumb and forefinger painfully between the only two hard plastic pieces on the whole truck. Faced with the decision to release my own flesh or get the last remaining particle of goo- I choose the goo and a bruise. Someone please help. Is there CA (Caraholics Anonymous) anywhere? Does anyone know if this type of injury could qualify for workmen’s comp?

This weekend we celebrated Wilson’s great-granddaddy Poppie’s birthday. Wilson was quite concerned that the cake was “OT!” (HOT!) and did his best to help Poppie blow the candles out. We are so thankful to have so many great grandparents in Wilson’s life and really enjoy getting to celebrate all these birthdays.

We are also thankful that the sun has returned. We went for a walk this morning and Wilson screamed bloody murder when we got home- he did not want to come inside. I guess I need to be thinking up some outdoor activities for after naptime- a trip to Target probably doesn’t count, right? He played with Pat-Pat last night while mom and dad went to Cups and curled up on a sofa with hot chocolate and an italian cream soda and tried to remembered what life was like B.W. (Before Wilson). We decided that it was much too quiet and very boring without someone screaming for a “tuck” or “cawr” or to get down or get up. But it was very nice to have a continuous conversation and complete multiple thoughts in a row!!

Wilson is now looking forward to a busy weekend with ALL of the Miller side of the family who are coming to town. He is going to get to meet his great aunt Sherry and cousins Charlie and Cole for the first time. He has developed quite a love for burping and trying to mimic other people (aka- Dad) burping. He howls with laughter as they sit at the table trying to top each other. We can’t wait to share this time with Uncle Bruce (whom I believe was called uncle stinky as some point!). As an added bonus we’re going to get to see uncle Andy, aunt Ashley, and cousin Adam for a little while, too. What fun!!