From Fall 2006:
Separation Anxiety

No, I am not talking about a baby and their mom--although I always found that more complimentary than annoying--I am referencing "sister separation anxiety". This fall we held our breath to see how their first real "separation" would go. Tori started kindergarten, and as I have observed, school just makes kids older. I really thought Isabelle would be left behind as Tori burst into the kindergarten scene, but so far so good. Isabelle walks to the bus stop every morning. Tori is sure to give her a hug every day before she gets on the bus (I don't always even get one), and when Tori comes home they embrace again. The separation has not really affected them yet, because as is classic Tori she is thrilled to come home and fill Isabelle in on everything about her new adventure. They look at the website to check out pictures of Tori in her class and they sit and do homework together. Once again, Tori is introducing her to the world. Honestly, Isabelle has probably aged more than Tori.

I don't take for granted the friendship my girls have and I am sure someday Tori won't find it cool to be with her sister and then Isabelle will be left behind--devastated by the blow of losing her hero. Or maybe not...and maybe Jamie and I are the ones that suffer from separation anxiety as our girls take one giant step together in their growing up process.


P.S. back to 2008- ronsi is getting her Kindergarten shots as I type :(

Well, there are now 2 short-haired girls in the family (well, 3 if you count Mace). Ronsi donated her hair to Locks of Love this past Friday. I am really proud of her and I think she has learned a lot these past weeks about caring for others--mainly through this and following the story of baby Gwyneth, who we have never met, but who Isabelle now calls "our baby". (If you haven't heard of this baby you should check her and her parents out--you will be moved by our amazing God and His amazing children)

Anyway, As far as her hair goes, it is quite a bit shorter than I anticipated and we did have a miscommunication (hairdresser gone mad) bang cutting incident, which was slightly traumatic, but we now have a tupperware full of clips (Isabelle was really pumped about that) and so it works. For those lucky ones who knew me as a child it is pretty much my haircut that I had from 1st to 3rd grade (Thank you Dad, Mom and Dorothy Hamill for that) and I don't think I did that on purpose, but my counselor friend, Chuck, said I may have some deep seeded issues. Who knew?

I think they are trying to take over. I know they have nice little stitched smiles on their faces, but I really believe stuffed animals are trying to take over my house. It is as if they know that I do not like them. It is bad enough that they multiply like rabbits, but now they have started taunting me. Last night I was sleeping in Ronsi's bed (don't ask--the girls took over my bed)...Anyway, I am in sweet sleep la-la land and I hear a voice. It just keeps saying the same thing in a high pitched annoying voice over and over again. It was haunting me: "This is Cheer Bear. How about a hug?", and again "This is Cheer Bear. I want to play with you". Well, Cheer Bear, I DO NOT want to give you a hug and I DO NOT want to play with you--I want to sleep and I want you to leave me alone. And just so you know if I have to use force and rip out your battery or rip off your head--I will. Don't fall for their tricks--Beware of the Bear!

Here are some of their latest enlistments just since Christmas...

I now have two kiddos in school... I would take a picture, but he would kill me. Jamie started his classical guitar class at Normandale Community College today and he is practicing as I type. Quite a fellow I am married to...

Skateville in Burnsville--That is where I dropped my little Tori off for a birthday party today. Wow! When I dropped her off amidst the chaos of tons of kids, video games and those same old brown skates with orange stoppers I had some thoughts. My first thoughts were flashbacks to a roller rink in East Des Moines somewhere where I played the giant dice game, the limbo, skated to "Downtown" and dreamed of the moonlight skate. My second thought was that Tori was way too young to be there. There must be some sort of age restriction for entering that world. They just let her walk in- no i.d. or nothing. Apparently our society does not care about such things and they think it is just fine that Tori be involved in such activities. What is this world coming to? I am not so sure I like it.

Call me a nerd if you like, but I love getting my new calendar for the year. Most years my Dad gets all us girls one for Christmas, but some years I get the job myself. This year Ronsi, Macie and I headed to the calendar store after Christmas (they are 50% off then, ya know) to find my 2008 calendar. There were a lot of nice ones left and I had 2 or 3 that I thought would do, but then my eye landed on my choice. It is called "The Road Home". You are probably thinking that calendars do not normally have titles, but they do and this one I just loved. My road home leads me lots of places. I can take 35 South to my home in Iowa where my wonderful family is or I can take 494, 94, 39, 270 (I am pretty sure those are not correct- Jamie will be apalled) or something close to that and go to my home in Ohio where more family and great friends live, I can drive around my newest home state, Minnesota, visiting my "might as well be family" and at the end of the day come home to be with my precious little family of Jamie, Tori, Isabelle and the Mace. I am a rich woman and I am thankful for my new calendar and its reminder to me of how thankful I am for all my roads home.

New Year, New Post, New Hair Cut, New OSU Jersey....so many new things, where to start. First of all, happy belated New Year. I have been "away" for a few weeks and took this past week to get organized. Pictures will be posted from the holidays, but I thought I would get the haircut up first. I donated my hair to Locks of Love a week or so ago. I have talked about it for awhile and finally actually did it. It is such a great cause--I am sad I did not do it sooner. So, I have short hair, which I have not had for oh, 12 years or so. Everyone in the family seems to be adjusting okay to "short-haired Gretchen" as some people have been calling me. I don't think I am a different person, but maybe carrying around all that extra hair and wearing a pony tail most days did have an effect on my personality. Anyway, Jamie likes it, I like it, Ronsi likes it, Macie is unaffected, Tori has come to like it although she sobbed when she first saw me. Not kidding--sobbed. And then told me the next day that she still hated it. But now I think she likes it.

Anyway, there is the first picture...my stylist did it in a sleek bob, but let's be honest, I will not be taking the time to do that very frequently. So, this is my usual do. Suggestions welcome.

And finally for now, in the picture I am sporting my new Ohio State jersey--a James Laurinaitis Jersey--courtesy of my in-laws. And although I DO NOT have a crush on him I did get my picture taken with him while we were in Seattle and I will be wearing it proudly and cheering for him and the rest of the Buckeyes in the National Championship game tommorrow.

GO BUCKS!

Well, I guess Santa Claus was a one year adventure for me. I am not a Santa Claus hater--I just never believed in him. My parents never said he didn't exist, but they never said he did either and they definitely didn't have a distant uncle call me and tell me to get in bed on Christmas Eve because he had flown by in his sled and saw I was still up. Anyway, you get the point...

Now fast forward to me as a mother of three girls. Tori sort of played it like me. Santa is a nice story, but she never actually believed he came down the chimney and such. But Isabelle, well, the stories of Santa brought wide-eyed wonder. And, for me at least, wide eyed wonder is one of my favorite things about having children. So much so that last year I went all in and while Jamie had the girls out I dreamed up an elaborate story about Santa and how he had visited our house while they were gone and swooshed down the fireplace, took their stockings and filled them with treasures and then hid them somewhere in the house and I couldn't find them. Tori was a skeptic, although she played along, but Isabelle fell hook, line and sinker. She started asking every question under the sun and my little white lie got more and more elaborate...I didn't want to lose the wonder in her eyes.

Well, this year I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I wasn't sure I could come up with another story to fool a now 5 year old little girl. But today I learned I don't have to. In an uneventful moment of discovery this morning, Isabelle told me Santa is not real. Santa is your mom and dad. I asked who told her. She said no one, just herself, because last year when there was Strawberry Shortcake bubble bath in her stocking she knows you buy that at Target and Santa does not go shopping--he has a workshop. I didn't argue, cuz why bother with the lie if she doesn't seem to care. And so I sang her "I Saw Ponsi Kissing Santa Claus" and she told me that means she is kissing her dad. She's a smart one.

Merry Christmas!

My dear, sweet Ronsi Ponsi....from before you even made your first appearance in this world you were teaching us things. A visit to the hospital in the beginning days of my pregnancy, taught us to wait on the Lord and take nothing for granted, as a nurse prepared me for the possiblility that I had miscarried you. Your early arrival into this world taught us the value of friends who could take me to the hospital and stay with your big sister at a moments notice, while Jamie rushed home from a basketball game in Long Island to be there in time. Your teensy tiny 5 lbs., 13 oz. frame taught us about an amazing God who had carefully formed each precious finger and each precious toe. And now, as five years of your life have passed, You have taught us joy through your infectious one dimple smile and uncontrollable laughter. You have taught us that a hug (especially a Ronsi leg hug) really can make everything feel so much better and raise your endorphins all in one shot. You have taught us of an insanely creative God as you brought us into a whole new world that is uniquely you--filled with mgiraffes, princesses, horses and puppy dogs and more made up words than I can recount. We have watched you grow from a tiny baby into a soccer "sort of" playing, scooter riding, cartoon watching, skip-bo winning, junk food loving big sister--all done in your own way with a confidence in who God has made YOU to be. You captured your Dad and I's heart a long time ago and capture more and more hearts by the day. Happy 5th Birthday Sweet Isabelle! We love you!

Legacy- something passed down from a predecessor or ancestor

My grandmother passed away this weekend. It was not expected, but I don't know that death is ever anything you can prepare yourself for, nonetheless, she passed away in her sleep early Saturday morning. Reflective person that I am, I have spent some time these last couple days thinking about Grandma, looking at old pictures, and considering the legacy that she has given to me...


Strength- My Grandma raised 4 kids alone. She worked to take care of her family. I can't say I ever even heard her or my mom complain about the situation, Grandma just did what was needed. She was a woman of great strength.

Generosity- Grandma never had a lot of money, but she was always the first to give. Sometimes when you would get a card with a check in it, you had to wonder if she was giving you the very last pennies in her account. There was nothing of hers that she would not give. She was the one that sent Tori "sheepy" when she was first born. She was an extremely generous woman.

Love- Whether it was her children and grandchildren, her husband Ken, her scary German Shepherds named Thunder and Lightning (I was so afraid of them), or her home in New Hampshire (lovingly called "The Levings Lazy Acres")--Grandma loved these important things in her life with all her heart. I suppose her love is what drove her generosity and her strength.

That is a pretty amazing legacy to have been given. I didn't get to spend a lot of time with my Grandma, because she lived far away, but I am struck today at the impact that she has had on my life. I have seen these qualities of strength, generosity and love in my Grandma, and I see them in my mom and how she is living her life, and I hope someday my girls will say they saw them in me, so that in turn their children will hopefully see it in them and the legacy will live on.

Thank you Grandma...I will do my best to continue your legacy!

Chris Berman, a football analyst on ESPN, often says, "That's why they play the game". Meaning you can analyze and predict all you want on paper, but the only thing that really counts is what happens on the field. This weekend I had a plan--and let me tell you--it looked real good on paper, but then, well...we had to play the game.

The Plan on Paper: Jamie and I were going to Chicago for the day to join up with my co-workers at Anna Worner and Associates for a holiday gathering. We were having lunch at a nice steak house and then taking in some of the city (big cities are the best during the holidays). All the prep work had been done. Abby was watching the girls for the day--they were excited. My mom had bought me a new red sweater--I was excited. I had a holiday hospitality gift in a cute gift bag for my boss-which she may or may not have been excited about.

Game Day: Everything played out as it should at first...Abby came, I woke up early and sprunched my hair, we got to the airport, got some breakfast, boarded the plane- no problem. I started to feel a little queasy on the flight, but figured it was from the lack of sleep, so I just closed my eyes to get a little rest before we landed. Upon arrival at O'Hare, my stomach was still feeling pretty uneasy, so I made a quick stop in the restroom and hoped that would take care of it. As scheduled, a white stretch limo picked Jamie and I up, we stopped to pick up our friend Woody's wife at their hotel and then we were on our way to Anna's house. I was trying to have a conversation with Bethany, catching up on the kids and such, but suddenly I just did not feel well at all. We were about a block away from Anna's house-I laid down on the seat and told Jamie I thought I was going to throw up. I asked if he had a bag. He did not. I saw a bag of plastic cups and told him to dump the cups and give me that. He did. I vomited in the bag. Catastrophe avoided... except the bag had a hole in it. So its contents were now sliding down the leather seat that we were sitting on. I panicked and quickly grabbed my coat and put it on the seat to stop it from rushing right into Jamie and I. I had to vomit again. I saw my lovely gift. I dumped out the holiday candle and Christmas CD and vomited in the gift bag. We arrived at Anna's house. Now since we all work remotely out of our homes, I have only met her once for like 5 minutes or so when I first started working for her and she had never met Jamie. I exited the limo. There was vomit all over my lovely red sweater and in my lovely sprunched hair. The limo driver at least gave me some gum. Sweet Jamie cleaned out the back of the limo and was holding the gift bag of vomit in his hands. Not wanting that to be Anna's first impression of him he spotted her garbage can in the back and went to deposit the gift bag there. Funny thing, though, they were meeting in the back of the house and saw him rummaging through her garbage cans. Woody came out and Jamie told them the story. I entered the house-vomit and all. Anna was so gracious to let me take a shower and give me a toothbrush. I had an extra sweater for a picture we were going to take, so I put that on and then laid down in her family room while they had their meeting. Because I was feeling a little better, they changed the lunch reservation to the same restaurant, but in the suburbs, so I would have some more time to rest. The steak house was amazing. Everyone else enjoyed their filet mignons and fancy salads and soups, while I ate a plain chicken breast (very good, but plain) and some mashed potatoes. I think the waiter apologized to me when he served it. Anyway, we had a nice lunch and I was feeling a million times better, but a little worried, so I watched them enjoy chocolate espresso cake and cheesecake with fresh strawberries (my favorite). Instead of spending time downtown, we hit the mall in suburbia and then headed to the airport and headed home.
Oh, that I were exaggerating, but I am not exaggerating one detail...ask Jamie.

A special thanks to Anna, Woody, Bethany and Sarah for being sooooo understanding and accomodating. I am so very, very sorry. I am lucky to work with such great people! And a huge thank you to my amazing husband who continues to find new ways to show his love for me.

Today I was a super hero. I was also a villian, but I ended as a super hero, so that is the important part.

I am still adjusting to this all day school thing. Kindergarten was easy. Sign the folder- send them off. They were only there for 2 hours, they didn't go outside for recess, so if you forgot a hat or something--no biggie. A chilly bus ride is not that catastrophic. Enter this year...this is a whole new world. Homework, spelling tests, recess in the cold, and school lunches...this is serious business. Today was just one of those mornings I did not have my game face on.

At the beginning of the year I thought I was off the hook when it came to lunches. Tori and I read over the hot lunch offerings and every day but two the first month she was getting the lunch. And the amazing thing was she seemed to really like soggy french toast sticks and cafeteria macaroni and cheese. She only passed on shrimp poppers (ick!) and chicken patties (75% gristle, 25% some kind of chicken). Well, today I was running a little behind. We passed on riding the bus this morning to gain some extra time, but we still found ourselves rushing out the door, throwing on all the outdoor necessities as we went. As I loaded the Mace into the van, I knew in my head we had forgot to check lunch. But, knowing we were already cutting it close, I figured she could just eat the school lunch--no problemo. To my dismay, I came home and checked the calendar---Chicken patties--what are the chances. I could just imagine the horror in her face when Mr. Suzuki told her what the hot lunch was. I could hear her telling Mr. Suzuki that her mom had forgotten to pack her lunch. I imagined she reluctantly made her choice and was planning the lecture that I was going to receive when she exited the bus that afternoon.

Seriously, if it was anything besides chicken patties, I would have let it go. (well, maybe shrimp poppers) But chicken patties--my conscience would not let me. So, following an appointment that Macie, Isabelle and I had this morning we headed off to Super Target (cuz truth be told I had not been shopping this week, so I couldn't have made her a lunch anyway). We navigated through the aisles being sure to get those school lunchy things like drinkable yogurt and peanut butter and cheese crackers. I made my purchases and hurried back to Bloomington. I wasn't sure if her lunch was at 11:14 or 11:40. I honestly thought I had missed it. But I went straight to Washburn, weeded through my grocery bags to pack a perfect school lunch (well, minus the sweet message on the napkin) and hurried into the school. I signed in and got my visitor badge and walked quickly down to the lunchroom. I surveyed each table, looking for that precious face--hoping she was not already at recess. I recognized some of the first graders from her class last year, but not this year. I looked to the left where some children were getting their trays and preparing to go through the lunch line. I saw Mr. Suzuki--relief--I quickly scanned through her class and there, standing 4 people from the front of the line stood Tori- standing with her tray, picking up her chocolate milk and heading to the counter where the infamous chicken patties were being served. I ran over. She said "What are you doing here?" She smiled to see I was holding her lunch box. I told her she could get the hot lunch if she wanted, but she quickly took her lunch box and handed me her tray. With a thank you she continued on in her line looking completely relieved to be bypassing the chicken patties. Mr. Suzuki gave me a thumbs up (which confirmed to me that she was not happy this morning when she ordered her lunch). I smiled, blew her a kiss, and headed home. Da-da- dum....SUPER MOM! (hopefully she will forget that it was my fault in the first place).

p.s. I totally would have brought her McDonalds to really be the hero, but that is discouraged in the school handbook. =)

Jamie heard from someone recently that a journal served no good purpose if no one ever read it. I love to journal. It is therapeutic for me..and typically no one ever reads them, so I decided to randomly disperse some old thoughts amidst the current happenings of the Millers...

The Most Difficult Words (Sister's Journal- Summer 2006)
It amazes me how early children develop pride and anger--they seem so sweet and innocent as newborns, but you soon discover they really are born ornery. All this to say that your sister can be one of the hardest people to humble yourself to. Really, any family member, but we are in a sister's frame of mind so that is the dynamic that I am looking at. Tori and Isabelle are in a love/hate stage of their relationship. They really are the best of friends, but on any given day the sounds from their room would not support that statement, and Isabelle seems to be the one with the short fuse. So as my parents did with my sisters and I, the girls have to "make-up". At the beginning of this new stage in their relationship I would tell Isabelle to tell Tori "sorry" and she would go give Tori a hug. Initially I was pleased with this response thinking she is showing her sorrow and desire to restore the relationship (I know you are amazed at the deep thought I put into this process). Anyway, I soon discovered that Isabelle refused to speak the words "I'm sorry". (You may have caught on to this already, but I am free to have rose colored glasses on for some occasions when it come to the girls' behavior) She could not bring herself to speak the words! Why is that? It must be pride, or in the case of a family member, a sister, who you know so intimately, and you know their faults and somehow feel they don't deserve a sorry, because they too are "marred". Whatever the case, I realized this is an important lesson for Isabelle to learn now (partly because it is a struggle for me as an almost 30 year old--yikes!) So, we began the process of teaching Isabelle to speak the words "I'm sorry". We still are in process, but we are getting there. First she would cry and refuse to say it--never a fun game. But now, she will say it, but she asks to say it softly, so when she does say it, it is barely above a whisper. I pray someday they both will be humble enough to easily and loudly proclaim their sorrow to one another, realizing their sisters friendship is far more valuable than their pride.

We left being a princess to my experts...Tori and Isabelle wanted to be the same princesses they were last year.




And Mace was a chunky little dragon--we had a great Halloween!

Stay tuned....and in case you are wondering- I do not have too much time on my hands. =)

It is getting chilly here- the season of red noses has begun.

Sometimes you wonder as a mom if your children are understanding what you are trying to communicate to them or if it gets lost in the translation from adult language to child language. Last week my church community held a benefit concert for a domestic abuse organization called Cornerstone. My girls attended the concert and we talked about why our church was doing it and how they could help. They cleared out all the quarters in their banks to buy treats at the concert and support the cause. Well, today I got some insight into why Isabelle wasn't quite as eager to help....

We were cleaning their room (my least favorite task in the entire world) and she found a baby spoon--the one that you get when you try a sample at Cold Stone Creamery. So she said, "I didn't know that Heather worked at Cold Stone". I was a little confused, not an uncommon occurrence when I am having a conversation with Ronsi, so I probed further. I thought maybe she was talking about a friend from church and I am pretty sure she never worked at Cold Stone. But then Isabelle, seeing my confusion, said, "Mom, you know, for the concert...the girl said she was from Cold Stone." Ah Ha! the light comes on. Well, of course we would do a benefit concert for an ice cream store--have you seen the price of milk lately? God bless you- you makers of sweet cream ice cream with a peanut butter cup mix in..help is on the way!

Of all of life's many blessings, a child has to be one of the greatest. One year ago today my life was once again changed forever. Macie Virginia captured our hearts from her very first breath. She was named after Jamie's adopted grandmother, Virginia Grandstaff, who was affectionately called "Ginny" and was one of the sweetest most pleasant women that I have ever known. On several occasions during this first year of Macie's life, Jamie and I have commented that her name suits her and Ginny would just love her. Macie is so pleasant, so playful, so happy. She brings joy. She brings laughter. She brings me to a deeper sense of awe of God's creativity in designing each person so uniquely. She creates in me a greater love for my Heavenly Father who so richly poured out His blessing when He put her in our life. I was trying to think of something clever or funny to write about the Mace and all her funny ways, but the truth is nothing came except an overwhelming sense of thankfulness to God for her. Happy Birthday my precious, pleasant, pudgy =) Macie!

The Lord has done great things for us and we are filled with JOY! Psalm 126:3

"One a piece, no repeats"
Each new school year and new teacher means new games for the Millers. This one is great for "table time" after dinner or dead time in the car. It is way better than hearing those preciously annoying words "I spy with my little eye..." (just not a fan of I spy..I don't know why). So, "one a piece, no repeats"... Things you can put on your feet: I said shoes, Tori said socks, Isabelle said toe nail polish. We all win! Have to admit, I thought Isabelle would go down, but she went out of the box. Great game Mr. Suzuki--yay for great teachers!

HAPPY FALL!!!