The K Mills

I write it. You read it. That's it.

Testing The E-mail Settings.

Okay. I’m gonna see if this works. I REALLY want to be able to just write on my blog via e-mail, rather than log into WordPress, format things, link things, past picture things, etc.
I wanna remove all the obstacles to getting stuff on here. You guys deserve better.

Kim Mills: Supergirl.

Kim is amazing.

About 6 weeks ago she pops out this beautiful baby, and between then and today she’s gotten what? 3 hours of consecutive sleep? At the most? Lemme tell you, it ain’t much.

But is she grouchy? Does she wander about the day aimlessly in an Oscar funk, ready to bite the heads off of Kyler and I as we pass by? No. No, she doesn’t.

She sweet, and patient, and still has the time to bring home the bacon AND fry it up in the pan! (Granted, I know many who would argue that that’s not such a good thing… what with the indestructible parasites or whatnot…).

Point being: she is amazing. She is a constant source of inspiration to me, because she shows me that we don’t have to wallow in our humanity and physical limitations.

I like sleep. I really, really like to rest, to relax. I sleep so deeply I’ve even made the mistake of getting up in the morning and asking “Did he sleep through the night?” (only to have her shoot semi-nasty daggers in my general direction). When I don’t get enough sleep, I DO get a little grouchy. Nasty. Oscar.

So when I see her taking it all in stride, with all the c-rap she puts up with (mainly from having two other boys to contend with in the house), I smile. And I take note: “B…e… m…o…r…e… like… K…i…m….” :)

That Kim. She’s something else.


Movie Review: The Last Mimzy.

I wanted to like this movie. I really did. As I understood it, it was about two kids who suddenly become super-smart, and work with people from the future to avert some kind of disaster.

Well, that was kind of accurate. After finding a neato cube on the beach, the two kids soon discover that the bizarre objects inside actually make them smarter. It was cool the way the boy would suddenly look a the world around him with new insight and discovery, seeing the cause and effect relationships all around him. The girl, on the other hand, bonded with the stuffed rabbit from inside the cube, Mimzy.

Mimzy likes to talk, or mumble, actually. Mimzy is constantly whispering in the girl’s ear in indecipherable mumblings and bubbly sighs. To be honest, it kind of creeped me out, reminding me of Chucky from the inane “Child’s Play” movies of the 90′s.

The problem I had with the movie was the not-to-subtle message pervading it (and eventually concluding it): Eastern Mysticism isn’t so bad. Mysticism holds the answers you seek. The way to ensure the future is through Eastern Mysticism.

You think I’m kidding? I wish. I actually read the reviews people gave the movies at and thought “How bad can it be?” Bad enough. As creative and intriguing as the movie was, I have to say the blatantly positive spin it placed on palm reading and Eastern mysticism was disturbing.

On a more niggling note, teaching kids that it’s okay to prioritize a stuffed animal over your parents isn’t so hot, either. Or when the parents decide the toys aren’t so innocent and throw them away, only to have the kids later dig them out of the trash. Without consequence. Yeah. Nothing like undermining parental authority to change the world. Granted, we’re not always right as parents – how can we be? – but we’re doing our best to raise our kids, right? We don’t really need disobedience being modeled or our chillun’s, do we? I. Think. Not.

So that’s my review. Take it for what it’s worth. And also keep it in mind it’s more of an adult movie than a kid flick. Kyler and his friend were bored to death for an hour and a half. Squirming and slouching and doing everything they could to keep from running down the aisles with their contained, unentertained energy. “The Last Mimzy” is ABOUT kids, not necessarily FOR kids.


Ralphing & Fun Do Not Mix.

Last night a bad thing happened.

At dinner my mother said she wasn’t hungry. She had prepared a gourmet meal for everyone (Kim, Kyler, Dad & myself), but she said she didn’t feel hungry. She’s German. She majored in Home Economics in college. She loves to cook. She’s NEVER said she’s not hungry.

So she laid down. An hour later she was puking in the bathroom.

Two hours after that, I was puking in the bathroom. Then Kyler.

Thankfully, God placed a wonderful hedge of protection around Kim, Kaleb and Dad, because they didn’t catch whatever nasty bug has been floating around Oklahoma for the past month. Instead they only had to hear the compositions of the Vomit Symphony all night. (I was relegated to the couch to protect Kim & Kaleb, so half the time I had to use a pitcher since I wouldn’t make it to the bathroom. While I appreciate the new experience and the new neurons that accompanied it, I don’t really think I needed those connections just yet…)

This morning we’re quite a bit better. Kyler’s chipper and playing with toys, Mom & Dad went back to Tulsa, and I haven’t seen the contents of my stomach OR colon yet. :) I’m weak and sore, but I’m not turning inside out, and for that I give thanks to God.

Kim’s parents come down from Colorado tonight, so if there’s a recurrence we’ll be ready for it. In the meantime, please don’t hesitate to pray for their protection while here, too.


Bikini Firefighter Scandal.

Man. Some people just have all the fun, don’t they? I guess I’ll have to scratch off “Firefighter” from my list of potential careers, because I can think of at least half a dozen similar photos of myself in… ah… similar attire. And no, I wasn’t drunk in any of ‘em, either. (I was just one wild and crazy guy!)

You can read the whole sad story here.


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