Crying over spilled milk

by Lesley on November 25, 2014 · 9 comments

in lessons learned

spilled milk

Last week, this awful thing happened at Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf that my brain tells me is NOT a big deal, but my heart says otherwise.

It was Tuesday morning and I was feeling like a victorious stay-at-home working mom because I found a last minute sitter to watch Owen. We dropped Anna off at school, and then I took him to Nancy’s house where he toddled away from me and acted like he could care less that I was leaving him with an almost stranger. After a full week without childcare, I was very behind on all things Kidaround, and I couldn’t believe I’d managed to pull off four hours of uninterrupted time to catch up.

Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf is my favorite coffee shop of all time, and that’s mostly because the second part of their name speaks to my non-coffee-loving heart. Oh the choices at this little Southern California gem of a beverage store. I debated a Winter Dream Tea Latte but settled on Peppermint Hot Cocoa because if I can’t have cold weather I can at least have Christmas in a cup.

I took the first sip–which was glorious by the way–and internally congratulated myself on the whole endeavor. I dove into my work, clicking here and clicking there, returning (no joke) fifteen emails within 22 minutes. Bam. I was getting stuff done.

Until, that is, I reached for my hot cocoa with my left hand, and tried to–I don’t know–scratch my face with the right hand? It’s all still blur as to what actually happened, but all I know is hot cocoa splashed through the lid of my perfectly peppermint cup of joy and landed on my brand new laptop. As in, the laptop we’ve been saving for since last fall and the laptop that cost a lot of money and is supposed to last another six years.

I’m really good at keeping my cool in public places, and pretending like nothing can rattle me. After dabbing the computer off and casually using my phone to google, “liquid on laptop keyboard,” I decided to drive straight to the Apple store. I didn’t start crying until I got into the car and called Jonathan.

You guys, I sobbed the whole way to the store and it wasn’t gentle, precious movie star tears but the gut wrenching, puffy eyed, hysterical ones that only make an appearance about once a year, at most. These were the kind of tears that one should reserve for a cancer diagnosis or a death or maybe a really awful hormonal meltdown when your child hasn’t slept through the night in months and months. But, a computer problem? I’m honestly embarrassed for myself.

I wish I could say the tears stopped once I made it to the store, but after the kind hipster employee informed me of the estimated service fees–$808 with tax–I might have lost it again.

We’d worked so hard to buy this stupid Macbook and now the stupid Macbook was broken and it was my clumsy, moving-too-fast hands that caused the problem.

To be honest, the tears were less about the computer–awful as the service charges may be–and more about my own self hatred in the moment. Had someone else broken my laptop, I’d be angry. But since it was my own fault, I felt one thousand times worse.

I dropped by Trader Joe’s on my way home from the Apple store. I had an hour to kill before Owen had to be picked up, and we needed a few basic groceries. I walked my puffy eyes into the store and began strolling the aisles. When I reached the milk aisle, I saw a cheeky sign that’s probably been there forever but I’d never noticed before:

There’s no need to cry over spilt milk. 

You might think I stopped in my tracks and re-evaluated the entire morning’s emotions after seeing this gentle, common idiom. Instead, I took a photo to remember the irony of it all.

No need to cry over spilled milk? Really? But, what if the spilled milk soaks into your laptop keys and causes over $800 worth of damage? Don’t you think, Trader Joe’s idiom, that crying might be warranted…just a little?

As a mom, I’ve spent the last few years cleaning up my fair share of spilled milk. My sweet, perfectionist three-year old has been spilling with greater frequently these days as she learns to drink from a cup, and upon each spill she breaks into hysterics similar to my own. Just last week, as milk drenched her t-shirt and tears flowed like Job’s, I kept repeating, “This is not a big deal. Stop crying. This is not a big deal. There is no need to cry. Mommy will clean it up. This is not a big deal.”

But, to her, it is a big deal. I imagine some of her tears stem from the uncomfortable (and surprising) wetness covering her body but I mostly think her emotion is rooted in deep frustration at her own failings. Yet again, I’ve spilled. Yet again, I’ve made a mistake. This wasn’t supposed to happen and I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m embarrassed. Don’t be mad. 

And when I really think about my hysterical emotion after spilling milk on my new computer, I realize that I’m crying for all the same reasons. I’m frustrated with my own failings, my own clumsiness, my lack of coordination. I’m frustrated that I can’t control everything, and that sometimes bad things happen even when you’ve made smart, calculated choices. I’m mad that my day-to-day doesn’t always go as smoothly as I’d like, even when I think and plan and get up early and work really hard.

I’m crying because I’m an imperfect person who wants to be, and do, and have it all. But I continue to come up short.

For those of us who know Christ’s kindness, we understand the story doesn’t end here. We know He is good, and His love and patience and forgiveness endures forever. He is like the patient mother who sees our tears and gets down on the kitchen floor, day-in and day-out, saying, “Let me clean this up for you.” He knows we come up short, and makes it so we can keep on living and thriving.

But, I’ve got to say, and this is just a theory: I think God likes it when we occasionally cry over spilled milk. I think it’s in the those frustrated, spilled milk moments that we often bow down and say, “I keep making mistakes! Forgive me! Help me! I can’t do this on my own!  I’m not great about always verbalizing my failings to Christ, but in the spilled milk moments I am reminded of just how much I need someone to wipe up my messes.

Sometimes, you should absolutely cry over spilled milk. 

This post was written on my newly fixed Macbook computer, at a local Starbucks, with peppermint hot cocoa cautiously by my side. 



.The wild and the crazy.

by Lesley on November 19, 2014 · 13 comments

in what i'm into

photo (60)

We’ve had a really fun October and November, and it doesn’t seem to be slowing down. As usual we’ve had a hard time saying “no” to things like travel, visitors, and…oh…you know…appendix surgery. Whomp whomp. I’ll get to that in a minute. (But, do you like how I am throwing out excuses so you’ll forgive my long blog absence?)

Jonathan and I visited his brother Matt in Washington DC last month. We had an incredible time, and not just because I pretended to be Kerry Washington everywhere we went, and not just because we didn’t have children with us. (Although, let’s be honest, traveling without children is AH-MAZing and SO EASY and SO RELAXING and did I mention I read three books and watched a whole movie on the airplane?)

It’s been 15 years since my last trip to Washington, and nothing about it was disappointing. The food, the sights, the leaves, the lack of tourists, the fun Saturday morning run to the Capitol, the late night shenanigans at the Lincoln Memorial, the Newseum and the National Cathedral were a few highlights. (That photo, above, is the first of two trips we took to the Lincoln Memorial. What a view, right? And don’t you love how we’re so awkward?)

The best part about our visit was having uninterrupted time with Matt and his almost-bride, Elizabeth.  I’ve known my brother-in-law since he was about 14, and watching him grow-up has been a huge delight and encouragement to me. He picked a wonderful girl to marry, who we can’t wait to officially embrace next spring in Jackson, Mississippi.

After our DC trip I decided that summer in Santa Barbara is officially over. I know this because:

  • There’s ONE big, beautiful tree on our street with red, falling leaves and it happens to be in my front yard
  • We’re stopped running our living room fan (but we still have most of the windows open every afternoon)
  • I need to bring a sweatshirt if I leave the house in the morning or late afternoon
  • The tourists are (kind of) gone

After eight autumns in Sacramento, I’ve forgotten what autumn (or the lack thereof) feels like in Southern California. Every morning I reach for my leggings and scarves only to put them back into my closet and reluctantly grab jeans instead. To be honest, if I wanted to still wear shorts, I probably could. But it just seems wrong. 

What else have we been up to, and why haven’t I been blogging? Our weekends are insane, I tell you, and our weeks are even crazier.

Owen started walking, which means I’m chasing and saying “NO” and cleaning up a lot more messes. His zombie walk and protruding belly are heart melting but I’m exhausted.

Anna is swimming a few times a week, and it’s a blast to watch her make big improvements. She wouldn’t put her face in the water when she started lessons, and now, three months later, she’s a little goggle wearing guppy. (I won’t claim she is swimming yet, but, she’s wiggling underwater so that kind of counts, right?)

We joined a homegroup this fall, I’m also a MOPS table leader, and we’re helping with Sunday school. Basically we’re spending a lot of time at church these days, which is great, because we love our church. Also, #weareovercommitted

The magazine is still very fun, and it’s also teaching me a lot about time management. I don’t have enough childcare right now and I find myself working during most naps and a lot of evenings. I’m still trying to find my sweet spot when it comes to balancing work and writing, and while I’m not unhappy in the slightest, I am…well…frazzled.

A few weeks ago, after seven long months of separation, our family returned to the City of Trees for three wonderfully full days. Zach and Dana’s new house sits right on McKinley Park, and I loved my early morning runs through the leaves. (Listening to the Serial podcast, because I can’t.stop.listening.) I also attended a Kidaround party, saw Ashlee’s new house and held Carson (he’s sooooo little and so cute!), stayed out until last call for Sharon and Dana’s birthdays at Mix, ate at Cafe Bernardo (twice!), drove stealthily past our little house (twice!), walked with Tammy and Sharon, caught up with Alicia, Allison and the Annas, and ate a Ginger Elizabeth cookie. Really, could the weekend have gone any better? I think not.

**cough cough** It should be noted that all of us got head colds while visiting and certain children woke at 5:30am most mornings, so we came back to Santa Barbara extremely tired. Owen threw up in the car on the way home, and Anna came down with a stomach bug the next day….so, perhaps it could have gone a little better?…but whatever. #realmomtalk 

After Sacramento, Jonathan came home to a scheduled appendectomy. His latest scan showed something on his appendix–probably a benign cyst of some kind– so, he was advised to have it taken out as soon as possible in the event it may burst at any time. We’re both grateful the surgery could be planned for, covered by insurance, and that there doesn’t appear to be anything malignant in his body. Poor guy is still exhausted and can’t pick up our children or exercise for awhile. :(

Moving right along…

Our wild and crazy autumn isn’t over just yet. We’re headed to San Diego this weekend for a law school friend’s wedding, and then to Sierra Madre for Thanksgiving. In December we plan to be home every single weekend (PTL!) I’ve been putting together our kids’ advent calendar and can’t wait to start a few new traditions with them this year. Can you believe Christmas is around the corner?

I want to conclude this little post by admitting..for my own sake…that I needed to write out what we’ve been up to lately because it has felt like, well, a lot.  We’ve been doing fun, worthwhile things but eventually it wears me down to my bones. I love this article, The Disease of Being Busy. As a challenge to myself, I’ll be back later this week to answer the author’s question, “How is the state of your heart today?”

In the meantime, what are you up to these days, and more importantly, how is your heart?



For the warrior in pink

by Lesley on October 19, 2014 · 3 comments

in books,cancer

warrior in pink

For the average American, October is a month when autumn leaves fall, goblins and ghosts emerge, and a signature pink ribbon makes it’s appearance on football fields, yogurt containers and billboards along every major highway.

At the Miller house, October is also the anniversary of Jonathan’s terrible discovery of cancer within his own chest; not of the breast cancer variety but Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, which started as a mass under his collarbone and above his heart.

While I’m not opposed to the fun of Halloween dress-up and trick-or-treating, I always find it a bit ironic and twisted that we Americans celebrate a holiday centered around death during the same month we’re working so hard to eradicate a very deadly disease. But, I digress…

There are a lot of terrible parts about cancer, but one amazing part is that Jonathan and I have separately, and together, met many other patients and spouses fighting this disease. And while everyone’s experience is a little different, we’ve found camaraderie, understanding and comfort in other’s journeys; many of which look similar to our own.

Vivian Mabuni is a friend and mentor I met almost two years ago through the Redbud Writer’s Guild. She’s a breast cancer survivor, mom, wife, and friend who loves Jesus and wants to encourage other women facing this terrible disease. As soon as I heard she was working on a memoir about cancer, I knew I wanted to be among the first to read about her journey.

Earlier this year, Vivian released Warrior in Pink: A Story of Cancer, Community, and the God who Comforts. The book chronicles her experience as a young mother fighting cancer, and she beautifully shares about everything from the intimate moment of diagnosis to her tough conversations with family and the after cancer wilderness. Through it all, Vivian keeps pointing readers back to Jesus. She writes, “I found a difference between existence and life. I didn’t want to spend whatever days God had for me merely existing. I wanted to live fully without fear.”

In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness month, Vivian is giving away a copy of her book to one of my readers. Even if you don’t have breast cancer, it’s likely you know someone who does. I hope this book might help you to better understand cancer, and see how our compassionate God is so present in our suffering.

Vivian, thank you for sharing your heart with a world who needs hope during the cancer journey. Friends, make sure to visit Vivian’s website and follow her on Facebook and Twitter!

a Rafflecopter giveaway



Bruises, bullying and protection prayers

by Lesley on September 29, 2014 · 2 comments

in motherhood


On Friday morning at breakfast I noticed a big, red raspberry on the inside of Anna’s arm, and for the first time since becoming her mama, I didn’t know when and how the injury occurred.

While Anna seemed just fine that morning–not even a bandaid request!– the red and oozy sore just about broke my heart. She’d fallen, and I hadn’t been there to pick her up. 


Our little girl started preschool a few weeks ago. It’s only two mornings a week at a little Christian school about five minutes from our house, and for the most part I love our new routine. On Tuesday and Thursday mornings a babysitter comes to our house to watch Owen, while I drive Anna to school and then continue on to Starbucks so I can work for a few hours. On our short drive, with just the two of us in the car, I like to pray for her day.

While she looks out the window, I ask God to help her have fun, to teach her a love for learning and how to be kind. I also ask God to keep her safe.

Every time I pray these words, “Lord, protect Anna today,” I wonder if it would be better to just say them to myself, as a whisper, so her spongey little brain won’t pick up on what I’m not saying: the world isn’t always a safe place, crazy bad freak accidents and horrible evils happen daily across our world, and kids say and do the meanest of things.


At MOPS on Friday morning, lovely Becca gave a beautiful introduction to our theme for the year: Be You Bravely. As part of the year’s kick-off, she told a story about being bullied as a child, and how a few terrible words stuck with her for many years after. While listening to Becca’s story, it made me think about my own brave story (which I wrote about publicly for the first time last week on this popular blog.) As a child, I was teased and ridiculed, as many children are. Someday my own children may also be teased and I won’t be there to protect them. Even crazier? Depending on my children’s personalities, it’s possible I won’t even know that teasing or bullying took place.

I’ve been staring at Anna’s raspberry all weekend, and it’s now been rubbed raw and looks terrible. I’m still sad I don’t know what happened, but at least I know something did happen and she’s okay. These days, Anna’s red and raw injuries show up clearly on her skin. But they won’t always be so visible.  Someday, inevitably, she will carry more internal wounds that external scars. Someday, someone, might say her crimped hair makes her looks like a cocker spaniel, or her ears look like Dumbo. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll show me where it hurts and explain what happened. And other times, I will simply have to guess.


The more I look at Anna’s raspberry, the more I’m starting to wonder if my prayers for safety and protection aren’t exactly the words I want to be praying.

Bumps and bruises and heartaches in this life can’t be avoided. As Tim Keller said in a recent radio interview, all of us will face suffering at some point.

Almost three years ago, on a windy fall day in Sacramento, Jonathan was diagnosed with cancer. A few people asked how we could still believe in a good God if He allowed cancer to attack nice, kind people like my husband. But when I think back to that particularly stormy season in our life, I don’t question why God allowed the storm to hit, but I remember how he so faithfully held us through it. We weren’t safe, but we were protected. 


Anna’s elbow will be all healed up by the time she heads back to preschool on Tuesday, but when I load her into her car seat and begin our short drive to school, I think I might change my prayer strategy. I’m starting to wonder what it would look like to pray that God would hold her, instead of protect her and I’m starting to wonder what it would look for me to loosen my tight grip, just a little bit, and trust that He can handle her pain and heartache even better than I can.

Letting go, even just a little, hurts. But I think it will hurt a little less if I place her sweet hands directly into the hands of One I trust most.



Six things I learned in August

by Lesley on September 1, 2014 · 5 comments

in lessons learned

photo (57)

This beautiful, fast-paced mom life offers many learning opportunities but I’m not always great about writing them down. This month I’m linking up with Emily to share what I learned in August. Get ready for a little silly, a little bit helpful, and a little bit gross.

1. Cleaning barf out of a car seat requires patience and practice. Unfortunately, we’ve had lots of practice. It appears both of our children get carsick. I am hopeful this is just a toddler thing because it’s been awhile since Anna has had an incident, but poor Owen…poor, poor Owen.

Two separate incidents this month alone! We’re learning to: avoid winding roads, carry extra wipes, have a change of clothes in the car, and try not to panic. (I’ll just admit: I panic and freak out every single time.) Here’s my biggest tip: tempting as it might be to scoop your child out of the car seat and comfort them, wait until you’ve assessed and dealt with the damage. I’ll leave it at that.

2. Bribery is a beautiful parenting strategy. I never thought I’d be a parent that bribed on the regular, but Anna’s new sticker chart is both simple and effective. I have an ugly printable from Pinterest and I wrote in four categories:  “Trying new things” + “Not interrupting” + “Getting yourself dressed” and “Saying hello when you are introduced to new people.”  The chart has been most helpful before we leave for swim lessons. “See if you can put your whole face in the water today, Anna girl, so I can give you a ‘tries new things’ sticker.” Bam. Next thing you know I’ll be paying for grades. Ugh.

3. Uber is awesome. Have you tried this (somewhat new) transportation app? We used it while in Los Angeles for our anniversary weekend. It BLEW MY MIND. We never waited longer than three minutes for a ride, and it was cheaper and cleaner than a taxi. You must try it. And, if you’re looking for a flexible job, you should consider becoming a driver. Props to my husband for knowing about this LONG before I did.

4. Speaking of great apps, we also used Waze. If you hate traffic, and want real time reports and alternative routes, you’re going to love this invention.

5. Sometimes I need to make room for spontaneity. I tend to keep our life very scheduled, but not because I necessarily like routine. There is so much to see and do–both fun things and productive things–that an intentional schedule seems like the only way to make it all happen. But last week we had nothing on the calendar! I couldn’t find a babysitter so I was home every morning, the YMCA (and swim lessons) were closed, and I hadn’t planned any play dates. We took each day at a time, doing what we felt like doing and not overextending ourselves. On Friday night we headed up to Cayucos to spend time with Zach and Dana at the beach. We had so much fun, we stayed an extra night! Spontaneity (and salt water) is good for the soul.

6. We also learned that our children love dogs. For a long time, Anna was very afraid of dogs and we’re not sure why. I think our neighbor’s black lab, Lincoln, has helped with her fears. Both kids spent much of our weekend climbing all over Zach and Dana’s golden retriever, Bella. It warmed my heart to watch them delight in her. In fact I may have had a “WE NEED A DOG” moment, but then I collected myself and decided it’s a terrible idea (for now.) As soon as my kids are out of diapers…game on.

What did you learn this month? Leave me a comment, or head over to Emily’s blog and post your own!

Related Posts with Thumbnails