Friday, May 1, 2015

A progress report: 3 weeks in

Greetings from the land of many many revelations...

"Nope! Still can't feed the baby and change a toddler bomb at the same time."

"Four hours of prep work will get us out the door one hour after our desired exit time." 

"I should feel some small twinge of guilt over the kids requested breakfast o goldfish crackers, apple sauce, and Lucky Charms (no milk) but... none...nothing." 

and, "why yes I am standing outside on the front porch in my penguin pajamas hissing at the big boys (one not wearing pants of any variety) to stop bringing rocks inside so they can become part of the royal rock collection and oh...look. There walks our neighbor and her dog stroller...staring"

Greetings indeed.

Smize Beck, smize.

So postpartum living...

Lots of highs.

Lots of lows.

Around these parts, postpartum life involves rejoicing over the mighty victories of a made bed, my shower hastily completed by me and me alone,  and minimal crying (adult, boys and infant).  Bonus points are awarded for makeup applications (priorities), kids dressed in new clothing, laundry done, and any ventures outside the house.

We have managed to get ourselves dressed and looking almost presentable enough to go out into civilized society multiple days in a row because I am not a hermit-introvert-homebody and there are only so many millions of consecutive days of cabin fever I can handle. This social butterfly needs to fly.

To Target. For exactly two things. Dish soap and hand soap.

Our adventurous spirits know no bounds.

Everyone was relatively well behaved and as we were walking out (and followed by a car driven by an idiot to our parking spot in a relatively empty parking lot where said idiot waited and waited and waited and waited as I loaded and buckled every Miller child into their car/booster seats...hopefully the wait was worth it, bizarro) Rhett noted that, "everyone was SO good...I didn't cry and Rad didn't cry and Beck didn't cry and EVEN YOU MOM didn't cry!!!"

The new Cinderella movie's famous line...have courage and be kind? Exactly what I was thinking on our first trip out of the house. And also...I could really use a fairy godmother right now. 

And since the Target trip merited a B+ we ventured out a little farther. 

To a few parks...

 ^^^ You see this? Right after I snapped this masterpiece the world's biggest drama toddler fell off the slide and landed on his head. Surprisingly! he popped right up and Rhett gave his professional medical prognosis  "It's okay, he just fell a wittle bit."

And then we went to see...


And the tiniest baby turtle that ever swam in a man made pond.

I'd heard that there were baby ducks at a local park and thought we could have a quasi little "welcome to spring/summer" ceremony and throw carbs at them. I honestly thought the kids would enjoy that but what I was not prepared for was hysteria the size of the Oscars...

Rhett: charged the fluffy floaters yelling "DUCKS!! DUCKS! DUCKS!"

Rad: Prancing behind Rhett yelling "GOOSE!"

Beck: Was like, "What the duck is going on?"

I don't know what it is about feeding ducklings that turns parents into phone camera wielding crazies wanting to get! a! million! photos! of! the! DUCKS!!!!!!!


And we've even braved Costco a few times. 

Game face on...we're coming for you big guy.

^^^PS there was another adult with us, my friend Tyrell...

Fist bumps, fist pumps, and all.

It was a mostly uneventful trip except for the mom that came over to tell me in a LOUD (close - toooooo close, sistermom) whisper lest the elderly couple 9 yards down would hear that, "they're giving out diaper samples - they might even give you two if you ask nicely" and then Beck went into a weird formula comatose state...

^^^The hight of the glamour of motherhood right there. 

I told you...glamorous. 

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  1. You're insane. My youngest is three and I still refuse to leave the house unless someone is bleeding profusely or having an emergency allergic reaction. I save car trips for the weekends when Dad's on kid duty. ;)

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