Our Life

Have you ever analyzed your family and laughed? Well, I did and it was hilarious. Let me explain. The John- Lindsey-and-Jack Family, while small in number, definitely falls into the category of chaotic from time to time. Some of you may have even been so lucky to have witnessed the pandemonium on occasion.

For example, one morning I woke up in our Mission, Kansas home, dressed and hit the pavement for a quick morning jog. It was likely early spring of 2006. I returned from my jog and let our dog Beatrice out to play in the backyard. My new hubby rose shortly after I returned from my jog and wanted to join me in the backyard for a few minutes before jumping in the shower. He threw on a bathrobe. Our backyard in Kansas was somewhat private, very unlike our new backyard - ahem - side yard in Des Moines, so John walking around the patio in a robe was not cause for alarm. But, closing the door behind him when he came outside was a problem because the door locked and we did not have a key. Yep, all doors LOCKED in new home, in new neighborhood, and I am the only one dressed appropriately enough to knock on someone’s door at 6:45 a.m. asking to use the phone. Now, if John would have waited for the locksmith in the backyard we wouldn’t have a story to write about. But, much to my dismay, I turn the corner from our neighbor’s house to find my husband standing in our front yard, waving to neighbors in their cars, holding our dog, in his bathrobe….chaos. Great way to introduce ourselves to the block, don’t you think?

Not convinced? Think about waking up and looking out your window to see boxer-clad John Mills putting garbage on the curb. Or pink-robed Mrs. Mills straining to control a barking dog. Or watching one John Paul Mills, IV, throwing a plate of peas onto the floor at a restaurant, shattering the plate and then watching one John Paul Mills, III, scoot the broken pieces under the table with his foot. Or driving by a car with a king-sized mattress tied to the roof. Or witnessing Mrs. Mills turn over a spreader full of fertilizer in anger in her front yard (which ended up burning a huge hole in the grass). Or coming home to a house of full of smoke after your husband surprised you with “dinner.”

Our life definitely fits into a good description of chaos, but I love it. Each and every second, even when I am tipping over the spreader attempting to show my husband how mad I am, not realizing how hard I will laugh at myself later. I love it and wouldn’t trade my life for the world.

My only fear: what will Jack tell his second-grade teacher about his mommy and daddy?