The lesson for this post is to BREATHE.

This to shall end and things will not remain this intense all the time.

I woke one morning to a very sick guinea pig. The poor thing looked like it had been through the washing machine spin cycle; hair matted up, eyes wet and puffy, moving slowly. I told the kids that that Guinea-Gin (that was the name that stuck for this poor animal) was sick. My oldest asked why I wasn't taking it to the vet.

So let me rewind life about 2 years to explain that one.

We have a rabbit that is in a hutch out back. He is a cute, little, brown rabbit. A kind of wild-looking rabbit, like the ones you would see living outside in your garden in the spring. My husband built the hutch and, as far as hutches go, its like a upscale condo with multiple rooms. One day I was packing up to go to the mountains for the weekend with the kids and I went outside to load up our rabbit, "Whiskers" with food and water. Whiskers looked at me and stood up on its hind legs. As it did, one front leg was there and the other was GONE! A bone stuck out where the little rabbits foot should have been. I screamed and instinctively took him to the vet, where they treated Whiskers for 48 hours, cleaned him up and performed surgery. They saved him! That little rabbit made it through. When I brought him home days later and shared this story with the family, my kids thought I was a hero, and my husband thought I was an idiot. "How much did that cost, babe?" he asked. I was afraid to answer. It was getting close to my birthday, so I said "It'll be my birthday gift! A healthy rabbit!" $800 later I swore to Skip I would never take a rodent or small animal like that to the vet again.

Well, it was Guinea's turn and unfortunately for Guinea-Gin, I kept my word to Skip.

I was nursing this little Guinea with an eye dropper, trying to get him to take food. I was in my nightgown, getting the kids ready for school. As they left I held him, wondering how long he would last like this. As I was getting ready to wash him in the laundry room sink (he had gotten pretty smelly), the doorbell rang. It was the landscapers coming to turn off our water for fall. I still wasn't dressed.

"Come on in" I said, in my nightgown, holding a dying guinea... in a washcloth. I let them into the basement where they proceed to work on the sprinklers.
I finally found a moment to run up and change, and I hear my husband scream "BABE! There is a flood! What are you doing!?" I composed myself as best as I could (still not dressed), put on a robe and ran back downstairs to see water all over the kitchen, bathroom and laundry room floor. It was leaking down into the basement. Oh yeah, I was planning to wash Guinea and I left the laundry sink filling. Well, there you have it. It was quite a morning in the Miller house. I called my friend Jen to share my story and started laughing so hard I was crying.

"Are you laughing or crying?" she asked, sincerely.

"I think a little of both"

BREATHE- I thought. Just breathe.

Guinea-Gin finally died the next day, fairly peacefully (and with no vet bill). The kids cried, we had a funeral, the sprinklers are shut down, the water is dried and cleaned up from the "flood", and guess what?

Our three-legged rabbit is still going strong.

Death

The friend that was so sick has died. This morning, actually. I will miss her terribly, as will so many. A wonderful woman in so many ways. Today is a sad day.

Her best friend sent an email today announcing her passing. Its ended with something Marsha would say..."Cancer Smancher, let's dance and decorate". A life cupcake for sure.

Dogs and Decades

Like so many couples, my husband, Skip, and I adopted a Golden Retriever puppy before we had any children. Before marriage. Before we knew what responsibility really meant. Boomer was our first baby, and like all new babies, quickly became one of the most important things in our lives. Skip flies model airplanes in a big way (more on that later). Boomer loved to watch Skip fly his planes at the soccer field, barking and circling on the ground, tracking the plane until Skip would land, at which time Boomer (all 100 lbs of him) would come barrelling up to the fragile plane... about to grab it and bring it back to us like a tennis ball. Skip would yell "OFF" and Boomer eventually learned to halt before biting the fuselage. If Skip ever lost site of his plane in the air, he knew all he had to do was look at Boomer to get an idea of where it was. It ended up being the method we used for exercising Boomer. I would say to Skip, "can you go fly the dog?"

Eventually Boomer's eyes started to fail, his muscles began to hurt and he grew older. The chasing of the planes stopped.

Boomer lived for 14 years and we finally had to put him down last winter. He came into our lives pre-children. He left our lives a decade and a half later. When I held him as the vet put him to sleep, it was as if I was watching a video of the last 15 years of my life. Memories flooded my head...marriage, the birth of all three of our children, building our house, potty training, starting school, changing careers, travel, surgeries, illnesses, new friends, old friends, family. Boomer was there through so much, and then he was gone.

7 moths later, we brought home a new Golden puppy and named him BEAU. He is the new photo album with lots of unfilled pages, unwritten memories of the many years of life ahead.

Our children, now 6, 6 and 10, will have this new dog there through another decade of changes. Growing up to adults, changing schools, jobs, girlfriends and boyfriends, tears and laughter.

How many of these incredibly memorable dogs do we get to have in our lifetime? 2? 3? It gives me a sense of life's rapid pace.

Our daughter Grace comes home from school everyday and screams "Beau! Oh Beau, how Ive missed you today", wrapping her arms around his head and holding him on the floor. What a wonderful thing...for both the dog and the child.

Illness

I just found out that a friend is dying.

She has accepted Hospice into her home to help her with the transition.

About 12 years ago she developed breast cancer. I remember so well what she called "the fight of her life".

She had been working with us and left the company to manage her health. She reported back to us about her time in the hospital, her chemotherapy experiences, her surgeries and her new found outlook on life. She told me about a book called "Home Safe Home" that talks about the toxins in almost everything we use. She told me about her newly shaped body and how it felt after a double mastectomy. She would giggle and say her figure after reconstruction was better than it was before the surgery.

She has always had an incredibly positive outlook on everything, and is one of those people that sparkles as she walks through a room. Her glow and laugh is infectious.

After her recovery from breast cancer, she went on to continue to raise her two teenaged sons, and started a non profit that has now grown into a significant change agent and resource in our community. She never stopped, never looked back and continued to help others after she had helped herself through that illness.

The cancer came back. She has been fighting again for about a year. During the most recent fight, she received a community award for her past and continued participating in so many community organizations. She stood up and gave a speech like no other, beautifully poised, well spoken and dressed in her typical ultra-classy style. She shined... all 80 pounds of her frail, struggling body just glowed.

Our world is a better place because she is in it, and it will be a lesser place when she is gone. I will miss her. I will try to remember to think the way she thinks, to make positive change whenever possible and to smile through adversity. What a legacy.

Bites

From Boulder, we drove up highway 77 through Nebraska, passing fields of corn like we had never seen. Living in Colorado we thought we live

d in the middle of farmlands, horses, corn fields, peach stands, farms with squash and pumpkins as far as the eye can see...but Nebraska wins the prize for most acreage without trees, lots of sun, and a lot...A LOT of corn.

It's amazing that this expansive lake (100 miles of shoreline!) with white sand exists in the middle of Nebraska. We turned a corner in our 36 foot RV and caught our first glimpse of the beautiful body of water. It was so hot that we imagined we could hear the lake yelling "come in Millers! It will feel so good to swim".

Found a wonderful campsite in the state park campgrounds, right next to the water. Skip hadn't even parked the RV before the kids were getting suits, towels and bug catchers.

After 2 days, 3 frogs, 7 card games, 1 boat rental, 15 different bugs in the bug catchers, 2 fabulous dinners cooked on the grill, a few short bike rides a lots of swimming, we went to bed feeling pretty relaxed and happy. Then, the

y came. And they came in spades. I could hear one of them buzzing over my ear at about 1am ... mosquitoes. The love me, hate my husband. We had been bitten a little throughout the last 2 days, being near water, but nothing outrageous.

I swatted at the one buzzing in my ear. Then I felt the itching over my eye. Maybe 20 minutes of swatting and itching in the dark, half asleep, i realized i couldn't open my eye. I went to the bathroom to see what was happening to my face. The light was left on in the bathroom for the kids as a pseudo night-light, so i could easily find my way in there. As I closed the door and looked in

the mirror, i viewed the damage that had been done. My eye had been bitten, maybe 3 times, and was swollen closed.

Cursing the mosquitoes, I caught a glimpse of lots of movement from the shower stall. As I opened the door to see what was in there, I saw a commune of them. They had built apartments, garages, even a city hall. There were probably 60 (no joke) all hovering in the shower to find the light. I took our swatter and stared hitting them. I knew it was kill or be killed. They was no way they would get out of the RV, so if i didn't get them i was a goner.

i swatted and swatted until it was mosquito carnage. I stood in that bathroom for probably 35 minutes. My 10 year old came in at one point and asked "mom...what is that smacking noise?" "go to bed honey. I'm just killing mosquitoes". She didn't even blink. turned around and went back to bed like it was just another typical night. I was in the heat of battle! There were about 20 left. I waited, hiding, until they thought I was gone...then they would start to move and...SWAT! Waited longer, SWAT. I literally waited, until they were all dead.

I came back to bed and did the classic, "Skip, you up?" no response. "Skip...You AWAKE babe?"

no response. "BABE. I was totally attacked by mosquitoes and we need to leave tomorrow! Can we talk?" I retold the story of the mo

squito battle, down to every last detail, including even the story of the little baby-sized bugs that thought they could get away. "Babe, so can we leave tomorrow?" he said "Lets talk about it in the morning" "But BABE! I am one-eyed and itchy and its just gunna get worse!" ...silence. I waited for some comforting words form my husband that would reassure me that they wouldn't be there in the morning, that we would leave, that somehow it would all be OK. Was he asleep again? Then, I hear something...its him! Here it comes! "Babe" he says "yes?" "Do you know where the IZZY sodas are?" WHAAAT? I thought...Is he kidding? WHO can think of a soda at 2am with mosquitos loose all over the RV!?

Well, we left first thing in the morning. I was a happy, itchy person headed to the cooler tempatures of South Dakota, where there are NO mosquitoes.

Are frogs dirty?

My son, actually, all three kids, were fascinated with how the waste got emptied from the RV. After a few days camping we stopped to empty the infamous Black Tank. All went well. My husband did it flawlessly with almost no gross factor (although...just the concept puts it on some level of gross factor). He got out the tubes, the kids watched with big eyes as he hooked it up and drained the YUCK from the bus. THEN…when we were all done, getting back into the bus to head to our next destination, my son spots a frog. Not an ordinary frog....one that lives in the intake tube of the septic drain. As we are all loading back into the RV I spot him out the window, about to actually PICK IT UP with his hands to hold and potentially cuddle this disgusting creature. It was in slow motion as I screamed NOOOOOOO!!! So innocent, he just wanted the frog, but it could have been so extremely disgusting. My son still sucks his thumb...imagine how that plays out. EWWWW. Luckily he heard me and left that little shit-eating frog all alone.

Dirty Laundry

There is a tom petty song called free falling- and a line in it says “ I'm gunna leave this world for a while”. That is what we have done on this adventure. It took us (me) about 24 hours to relax into this style of travel (RV) that I have always made fun of, because I have never understood it. As I look across the tree-used-as-a-clothesline I set up, I laugh so hard. The items on the line tell the story. Underpants hanging there from an afternoon swim, a forgotten bathing suit, towels, and my husband’s shirt wet from diving in after a hurt child. Each piece of clothes drying has its own paragraph of adventure. It hangs behind our picnic-style dinner table, and doesn’t bother me in the least. Motor boats and jet skiers in the background, and some very interesting folks from all parts of America…its all part of this journey in reaffirming what is really important. My children fought like bad business partners the first day. Now they are helping each other. My older daughter helped my youngest after she was bitten by a spider, walking her back to the campsite. A week ago it would have been eyes rolling. We are happy today.

Priority and RV Preparation

It has been 8 months since my last post. The first thing that went through my head when I saw how long its been was a flash of guilt. Then came the thought that somehow I have mismanaged my priorities. Then I took a breath. People say "Wow, three kids under 10, you are a busy mom" and the first thing out of my mouth is always some sort of challenge to that comment, like "NOOO, its wonderful." or "They are really good kids...and here are all the OTHER things I am doing...." Well, I am now here to formally agree that I am a busy MOM, and don't have to be much else for right now. I can (and should) just focus on this wonderful time in my children's life (and an equally wonderful time in my life).

Today we are picking up our 36 foot RV and taking the kids on one last summer adventure. Its not the kind of RV you see driving around, possibly parked in neighbors yard year round. Its the kind from that show where they say "bus driver...MOVE THAT BUS" kind of RV. The one that drives 15 miles an hour up and over the mountain pass while you are swearing at it from behind as it happily clogs up the highway. You look over at it as you finally pass and the family inside is happily playing games, singing and laughing and you think "what the hell could be so funny that they don't even realize they are stopping up traffic?" Well, thats us ...starting tonight.

We have never done this and are not particularly fond of camping, but have heard wonderful things about an RV family experience! The preparation has been long and detailed:

-Costco runs for food and supplies

-Meal planning "yuck! don't make salmon" and "I will only eat mac and cheese" "mac and cheese on a camping trip? grace that's crazy" "OK mom, ill eat pasta with Parmesan". Nice compromise.

-Organizing sheets, towels and bedding for 5- including all the favorite blankets and snugglies.

-Plans for the cats, dog, rabbit, hermit crabs and guinea pig while we are gone

-Mapping the drive and the stops, including the request to stop at every state border so the kids can stand in 2 states at once.

-Pumping bike tires, sorting fishing gear, finding the favorite goggles and remembering each little pair of hiking boots.

-Oh, packing MOM's things (I almost forgot).

The front of my house looks like we are moving, with the piles of gear and food awaiting the bus' arrival by the front door.

The kids are jumping out of their skin with excitement. They were drawing the other day and while the twins drew pictures of monsters and kittens, my older daughter, Maggie, drew an amazingly detailed picture of an RV.

"How much longer until we can pick up the RV" has been asked 3x this morning and its only 7:30 am.

Our friends, the Centeno's, are coming over with their three kids to see this thing transition from a bus to our home for 6 days, and to giggle a little as they wave, supportingly, while we drive away.

I will continue this post when we have more RV stories. Right now I am excited about being a full-time mom.

Life changing soccer

My 10 year old daughter's first day of soccer practice was today. When I say first day, I literally mean first day. She has never played in her life.

I drove her after school and watched, as she sat in the back of the hot car, digging through the bag of soccer gear I had packed looking for the right thing to wear. Maggie is joining a team that has been undefeated for 4 years. They have played together, known each other and have been familiar with the game since they were all quite small. There was an opening, her friend is on the team, and she is interested.

As shorts, socks and cleats were flying around the car, I could feel her stress, her nervousness and her anxiety. "Mom! You didn't pack my black shorts! These red ones are too loose and they show my underwear!" Don't take it personally, I said to myself. "Mom! where are the black socks?" She is just nervous. Its not about the clothes, I reminded myself.

I tried to breathe through my own anxiety, and help her find things she would be comfortable in. She looked out the car window for what seemed like an eternity, analyzing what the other girls had on, to help her make a decision.

She worried that her cleats were too tight. She worried she would be cold. Then hot. Then cold.

She finally got dressed and was ready to face the team. We walked out to the field to meet the coach and the other players. She timidly introduced herself. "Hi" she said quietly. "I am Maggie Miller."

A very tough looking girl, smiling a big, earnest smile, looked at her and said "are you a righty or a lefty?"

"I think I am a righty?" Maggie replied, slightly confused.

"Cool! We have 2 lefty's already on the team. And you are a righty! Perfect! What do you want your nickname to be? Maggie Miller...hmmm...how about Double M!"

Maggie just sort of nodded and took it all in.

"Maggie, want to do a lap with us?"

"No thanks." she replied, honestly, standing next to me as if there was a chain tethering us together.

I finally had to leave and said goodbye. "She will be fine" I thought. "She will get clobbered" I thought. "She will be discouraged when she gets home" I thought. "But, she will be fine" I thought.

Maggie arrived home with a smile. I didn't need to ask. "Double M" had done it.