Flashback: A New General

On October 12, Richard was "pinned" a Colonel in the United States Army. It is a promotion he has long worked for. It's been 21 years since he was commissioned an officer, and since then he has fulfilled duty and obligation and schooling to climb the ranks. The neat thing about promotions are - although they happen on paper in government offices at the Pentagon, are approved by Congress, and are signed by the President of the U.S. - that the final act of pinning the new rank or emblem on the uniform is done by a person of the Soldier's choice. In this case, he chose his family.

The Soldiers stand at Attention to Orders as Colonel L. Schmidt reads the Promotion by Order of the President of the United States.I get to pin the eagle on his uniform.
Cooper gets to pin the eagle on his hat - with help from mom and Austin.

Richard speaks to family, friends, and Soldiers gathered there.

Cooper's first in line for the cake at the reception following the pinning on. The chaplain who helped me set up the table and get everything ready to serve said he is the "acting Relief Society President" in the battalion.

The Proud Family (minus Austin who had to leave early).

This daddy deserves this honor!

Richard was commissioned an officer - a Second Leiutenant - on his birthday in 1987. At that time, the spouses of all new officers were invited to a luncheon at the State Capital by the Govenor of Utah. Since I would be his spouse in less than two weeks' time, I attended. We had a wonderful meal and then listened as the Govenor spoke of the Soldiers' responsibilities. He then reminded us of our important place - and even told us to keep in mind that we would always be one rank ahead of our spouses. That makes me a GENERAL now! And don't think that I let the Colonel forget it!

Flashback: A Haunted Evening

Well, not so haunted, because how can this cutie be scary? This Harvard cheer outfit was my splurge when we were in Massachusetts. Couldn't resist it - and don't regret it.

Coop was determined to be Indiana Jones. Luckily we still had the hat and jacket that Austin wore about 10 years ago. Harrison Ford may be getting old, but the legend lives on. Austin made Cooper a whip out of braided bike-tire innertubing. Maybe he should have been McGyver.

Maia borrowed this costume from her friend, and it was perfect. A very cute cowgirl.

Tessa didn't really decide on this until the last minute - the "witching hour!"
Our biggest boy hasn't really outgrown warrior/weapon/fighting stuff. And, the knife is really an Iraqi sword. Don't think that's a very appropriate accessory for a little kid holiday!

All together - and I'll let you guess who the old geezer is in the middle.

You'll notice McKenna is missing. She wasn't dressed when I was doing pictures and then I left to take the little ones trick-or-treating. When I returned, she was gone. But a pirate was she!

Another Mystery

I love digital cameras. I don't have to pay to print all the random photos that my children take without me knowing. If you recall, I played detective a couple of months ago with the Star Wars pictures. Here are more snapshots taken by a mysterious photographer.

The tiny toes and sparkly skirt gave it away!

Flashback: Royalty

All my daughters have loved dress-ups and girly things, but not one has loved dressing like a princess as much as our little Ivy. She's a girl after my own heart. She celebrated her fourth birthday on September 21, 2008 - which brought sadness with the happiness for me. My baby is growing up. I'm beginning to understand why my mother refers to me still as her "baby." So here's Ivy, after church and hence the messy hair, waiting eagerly for the gift-giving to begin! The only hitch? Her father was on the back patio conducting a meeting with some of the men he works with in the church. She wasn't patient enough to last the whole time, so we let her open a few gifts. (This party was just for family) But she had to wait for daddy to open the final present - the one from mommy and daddy. When dad was too slow coming in, she simply opened the back door and told him to hurry up. The men got the message and dispersed soon after. A princess has that kind of power.

Notice the excitement?

The sheer joy?

Trying on the dress she has nearly permanently-borrowed (thankyou Amelia) with her new crown and scepter! The gorgeous shoes didn't make the picture, but sufice it to say that her mom would love a pair!

Dressed in her new Sleeping Beauty outfit from mommy & daddy.

A few weeks before her actual birthday I asked her if she would like to have friends come to her party. Of course! Why did I even have to ask. As of then, she had only had family parties but had been invited to friends' celebrations. So we talked about how it definitely had to be a princess party and we would have "muffins" (aka: cupcakes) and she named the little friends she wanted to include. Then she gave me these careful instructions. "Mom, when all my friends are here you have to line them up behind the couch. Then when I come down the hall they can all yell 'Surprise Ivy!'" Of course, on cue, I organized a surprise party. And how fun (and easy) it is to surprise a little person even when the surprise was her own idea!! McKenna took her to a friend's house and dressed her all up and then brought her home once the friends had gathered.

Press the arrow to watch her reaction.

The royal court

The table set for a royal feast - and this time anchored with duct tape. There had not been so much as a breeze until just minutes before we were about to sit down for the "muffins" and ice-cream. I was able to finally snap the picture after the THIRD time of gathering plates and napkins off the yard and replacing them - thanks to the help of my older daughters.

Her most loyal lady-in-waiting

Her handsome prince who rescues her from swords and spiders and all situations of distress. (And, if truth be told, he is responsible for many of those situations!)

I dressed up for the party too! What's a princess party if you can't wear satin and bling?

Her smile says it all.

Flashback: 21 Years Together

We've spent nearly as many anniversaries apart as we have together. This time was a close call. Richard's flight was supposed to arrive at 7:00 p.m. but was late by nearly an hour. Luckily The Roof Restaurant (at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building at Temple Square) kept our reservation. Richard surprised me by having a dozen roses waiting for me at the table. Although we didn't have our camera, we did have a lady at a neighboring table snap our picture with Richard's cell phone. Excuse my red eyes - the hazard of blue eyes and flash bulbs. -- It was a beautiful night with my favorite person.

August 1, 2008

Just a few reasons (of the many hundred) why I love Richard:

His complaining about changing diapers has been rare, and always with a smile.

NOT ONCE has he ever complained about working for hours a day and years on end to provide for me and our children. He does it gladly.

He's as comfortable playing dollies with the girls as he is wrestling with the boys.

He can ALWAYS make me smile and laugh.

He picks up my life when I just can't.

He makes be feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

He encourages me to write and scrapbook and lunch with friends.

He buys me books and chocolate, just because.

He leaves love notes on my pillow.

He sends me love notes via e-mail.

He fixes the broken stuff at our house without my asking.

He's learned to do a lot of carpentry because I wanted to make our home prettier.

He "rides herd" on the children during chore time.

He reminds me that life is about play too, not just work.

He lets me cry when I feel like it.

He has loved me through many years of health challenges.

He makes an effort (at my bidding) to pry his eyes from the television when I'm trying to talk to him.

He loves our children with all his heart.

He'll leave work early on occasion to come home "just to help" me with family life.

He'll buy (only a little begrudgingly) nursing bras and feminine products for me.

He eats Chinese and Japanese a lot less often than he'd like, because he knows I can't stand it.

He opens doors for me.

He taught our sons to open doors.

He closes the bedroom door some mornings to let me sleep while he gets the kids off to school.

He does the dishes more often than I'd like to admit.

He moves boulders from one spot to another because I think they would look nicer somewhere else.

He tries to understand when I think something in our home or yard should look better than "fine." And then he holds his tongue, mostly, when I spend money to try to make it look better than "fine."

He assures me that I've spent enough time on my lessons and that the centerpiece is perfect.

He tells me I'm wonderful.

He takes over bathtime when I'm worn out.

He agrees that the pink paint is pretty and the yellow is just right, even though he really couldn't care less what color any wall in the house is.

He fills my gas tank with gas so I don't have to.

He clears the snow and ice from my car windows so I don't have to.

He grimaces only a tiny bit when I buy my two pair of jeans yearly, because he knows I have to pay that price to get them long enough for me.

He calls me "sweetie," "angel," and "babe."

He treats our daughters like princesses.

He takes me to chick flicks.

He loves my family.

He compliments my cooking and clears his plate from the table.

He helps needy strangers.

He studies scripture and prays with me.

He protects me.

He pulls my hair out of my face and into a ponytail when I vomit over the toilet.

He writes thankyou notes to people who touch his life.

He works out to keep his body healthy and in great shape.

He usually remembers to call me if he's not going to be home as planned.

He always tries to catch an earlier flight home, if possible.

He's not embarrased to tell people he has six children, even though they think we're nuts.

He drives every mile of every trip because I can't stay awake when I drive.

He rubs my shoulders.

He loves his Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

Flashback: First Day of School

Tessa: 6th grade

Maia: 3rd grade

Cooper: 1st grade

With Ivy - the VERY LAST preschooler I'll ever have! (sob)

So here are some thoughts I have as I look at the pictures:

1. Why can't time slow down?

2. Why didn't I move the obnoxious yellow hose?

3. I can't believe she'll be in junior high next year.

4. He's so cute, even when he's annoyed I've called him away from playing with Carter to have a picture taken.

5. I guess I didn't get up early enough (or wasn't mentally awake enough) to take a picture of McKenna before I took her to school

6. Sure wish my kids looked this well groomed every day of the school year.

7. Sure wish my kids were ready this early every day of the school year.

8. Did I really not notice she was picking her nose when I was looking through the lens?

9. I'm so glad this has been, thus far, a good year for Maia.

10. I hope these children are always this excited about education.

11. I am blessed.

Flashback: August Anguish

All we heard were blood-curdling screams, Richard and I, coming from the basement. We raced to the top of the stairs and found our boy climbing up with his hands covering his face, and blood covering everything else. He had shot (his brother's newly purchased and parentally unknown) air-compressed BB pistol. The metal pellet rebounded off an exposed stud and landed deep inside his face. That night was full of two trips to the local ER, one trip to Primary Children's ER, and, a few days later, a visit to the plastic surgeon.

A few hours after the initial stitches, so the pain was tolerable. The swelling and brusing has begun, but would get bigger and darker before it got better a couple of weeks later.

Waiting for a surgical consult at Primary's. Cooper was a trooper, despite the pain and emotional trauma.

The culprit caught on film. A perfect circle that, at this point, remains inside my little boy's face. It narrowly missed the important nerves and muscle. According to the doctor, "if there's a perfect place he could have shot himself, he found it." A miracle.

We have decided, for now anyway, to follow the plastic surgeon's recommendation that we leave the BB there unless it causes a complication. It is deep enough to require general anesthesia and removal from the inside of the mouth. It is deep enough that it can't be felt or seen from the surface and, so, not worth the risk of putting him under. You can bet I asked the surgeon if that's the choice he would make if it were his own son we were talking about!

A Private Affair

You know how, when you're laying beside your child at bedtime, he whispers that he's going to grow up to be a fireman and all the next day and week and month he insists on wearing the yellow jacket and dousing your furniture with real water? And then, suddenly, you're lying beside him again and he's going to be a dinosaur digger when he grows up. And all the next day and week and month he studies his dinosaur books and arranges the stuffed varieties and talks non-stop about Rexes. Then he's older and you're driving somewhere and he mentions how he's going to fly those giant airplanes that zoom overhead and leave the white trail behind. And for months he watches the sky and points and then lines up his die-cast models carefully on his shelf. And it goes on like that for years. He's going to be a teacher and then a crane operator and then a police man and then a doctor and then a tall-building builder and then a race car driver and then . . . .





Well, I never really experienced that with my son. He was itsty bitsy when he began to talk. Not even two years old. We would lie on his bed and he would explain how big semi-trucks had giant engines to pull their weight and he would tell me that black really isn't a color. It's just that it doesn't reflect light, but sucks it up instead. He would "read" his books to me - reciting every word from memory after hearing me read them just a few times. He was a smarty-pants boy. But each and every night, and every day, and every week, and every month, and every year, and every decade (and at least 8 Halloweens), he insisted that when he grew up he was going to be an Army Guy. Not once did he change his mind or even consider other possibilities.





This morning he walked in the house with his newly issued uniform and boots and socks and hat in his hand and announced "I don't have to dress up like an Army Guy anymore. I am one." This afternoon he raised his right hand and spoke the oath to defend this country, with his life if needs be, and to be a faithful and loyal supporter of America always. The United States Army Officer who swore him in is his father.




The smiles were permanent on both their faces. And mine too. My little boy is big. His new boots are larger than the ones he used to slip on and clomp around in the house with as soon as his daddy took them off. He was chosen long ago to be a warrior. It was in his blood and in his heart the day he was born.

Private 2nd Class Austin Richard Miller and

Colonel Richard Gary Miller

Who's the Winner?

These pictures were taken in July, but so worth posting! I'll be playing catch-up (seems to be a habit lately) for a while!

Tessa

Maia

Cheyanne

Grandma

Coop

The sad thing is that we (by that I mean Richard) even own this wig!

Just a Note

Written by Cooper, November 12, 2008

To DadanbMom but mosle To The rmeeman Be cus he has oll The guNs. I love you BIF veree much. You are The Best peres in the Wrld.

Even though I'm second-class - it sure makes me happy to know that (at least today) I'm one of the best parents in the world!