Mom's Best Friends

We don't have a dog in this house, and we don't want one.  Why would I get a dog when I have the equivalent running around like wild puppies on a daily basis?  In fact, I'm convinced that having twin boys is like having a litter full of newborn dogs.  They are incredibly energetic, they jump on furniture, they wine for their mommies, they love warm milk, they bite a little, fight a little and on some days poop on the floor.  So again, dogs will not be in this house for many years to come. 

The positive side of twin boys, is exactly the same positive qualities of a new litter of puppies.  They entertain each other, play with each other, love unconditionally, need their mommy, love their mommy.. and did I mention how much they love their mommy?  Yes, I'm a bit worried that Jack and Charlie will still be grocery shopping with me when they are 35, for fear that I will leave them alone for five minutes straight.  No bother though, at least by then they will be able to push their own carts... and maybe pay for some of that milk. 

Birthday Week

Every birthday for a mom of twins is a big deal.  Seriously... a REALLY big deal.  Yes, I understand I can't claim complete importance of this day over the special day of a singleton, but I can claim a difference in the feeling of the parents; especially the mom. 

During the first year, I was repeatedly assured by other twin moms that the first year with twins is the hardest. Make it through that, and rest will seem manageable. Sometimes empty words for a sleep deprived, overly emotional, double breastfeeding mother.  But those words were words of gold come October 2, 2009, the boys first birthday.  A feeling that is almost indescribable came over me the entire day.  It was a Godly sense of peace, accomplishment, and "adda boy" all wrapped into one.  I'm pretty sure that I happy cried multiple times during the day, and I couldn't help but want to scream "WE DID IT" on the top of my lungs to whoever would listen.  We had survived the first year, after that, anything was possible.

This coming Saturday, the party returns... Jack and Charlie turn 2.  So in honor of another year, I will be posting the best pictures I can pull out, and post them for your blogging pleasure.  I might also include a few of my favorite things about twins, boys, and being their mom.  Stay tuned for some sap.. I'm positive it will rear it's lovely face. 



First Week... bonding brothers



Almost a year... Still bonding, and now bathing





Almost 2 and still bonding, bathing, and now swinging



Change You CAN Believe In

Budgeting has not always been a priority here in the Mitchell household.  Getting married when you are still young and dumb doesn't really lend itself to knowing how to handle a monthly spreadsheet with numbers on it.  Added to that the fact that so far, for most of our married life, one, or both of us have been in school... without jobs, or without a "good" job that really pays for the bills and the Dairy Queen treats. 
However, for the last few years, (once Kevin got a real job) we really started to buckle down and watch where our pennies were landing, and where we could pinch a few along the way.  But over the last few months, we decided to be even crazier (a term we like to use in this house to describe our budgeting).. and got on the cash-only bandwagon.  A reason why a lot of my family members may want to prepare themselves for some crafty Christmas presents this year.  Also with that cash only mindset, comes a new appreciation for the concept of Change.  No, not Change like the President promised, but Change as in "ooh I just found a nickel under my seat this morning... OR, oooh, I braved a search in my crumb filled sticky purse and pulled out 26 cents.. Change."  These moments of search and recovery end up being big deals when you are trying to hunker down and stretch a dollar way past what it was intended to pay for.   Find enough, and you can reward yourself with a nice breakfast burrito from your favorite drive through.  Hit the jack-pot of change, and you might even be able to splurge for a Starbucks.
We consider any amounts of change "off the budgeting record," meaning that it doesn't need to written down, accounted for, or filled with guilt, about.  And there's really no better feeling than holding up a drive through lane because you are slowly counting out in dimes the $2.16 needed for a burrito and a small coffee.  Yes, those moments are pure joy.  So let's raise our quarters to Obama and sing with Michael while we take a look at ourselves,...and make some change.

What a Difference a Year Makes

If you know me well, you will know that I rave about how much I love sending Callie to her current preschool.  Yes, it is because of her lovely teachers, and yes, it is most definitely because she learns about Jesus and His love, and yes, it is because she makes wonderful friends there.
But my absolute FAVORITE part of the preschool experience has nothing to do with little Callie.  It's about her mommy.  And the friends that I make at preschool, and the relationships that I have built while standing in the pick up line, and the lovely play dates that I get to host. All because Callie went to preschool... and made her mommy some friends.
This year, as we ventured out on the first field trip, a fitting pumpkin patch for fall, I couldn't help but dwell on the strides that both Callie, and I, have made from pumpkin patch 2009 to pumpkin patch 2010. 
Last year, I clung to my freezing 3 year old, giving her the unknown responsibility of making me look needed, so as to not look alone amongst a sea of unfamiliar faces.  I would try to shoot out nice looking "Hey, I'll be your friend" smiles.. but no one seemed to pick them up, so I busied myself with fixing her hair, helping her pumpkin pick, ect.  As we drove back to the school, my passenger seat empty due to my bailing co-chaperon, I distinctly remember wondering whether or not I would ever make friends in this too-small, unfriendly, city of a home.
Enter fieldtripping 2010.  With one year of school under my belt (and Callie's), we both felt so much better equipped to handle a day out with friends and pumpkins. There was sunshine, there was pre-gaming coffee with four, yes FOUR friendly faces that I not only enjoy, but who have 4 lovely children who Callie adores too.  There were pictures where people wanted me to be in, and take of them.  And I'm pretty sure that when I threw out my "Hey let's be friends" smile... it was expected, because we were already friends to begin with.  And this time as I drove home, after driving with not only my mom, but a close chaperoning friend, I drove myself right over to a friends house, where the girls played, we ate, and I became thankful for the joys of school. 
All in all, I love preschool.  I think I am learning just as much about relationships and God's provisions for us as Callie is learning about the letter "G" and the number "3".  So if you find yourself in a place that's not home, in a city without friends, maybe you should try finding a preschool nearby.  There are sure to be some amazing women who would love to set up a play date.  In my opinion, it's never too late to go back to school. 

Here are some pictures from 2009 to 2010



Callie and friend Makenna

MY friend Jamie and her too cute Madison

Picking pumpkins (It was super windy)

The Year difference: Pumpkin Patch 2009

A Vow

I am going to make a new vow today for mom's of young kids everywhere.  This one is for the grocery store.  The parking lots, to be exact.  It's a vow to those lucky drivers who leisurely enjoy shopping trips without children, without crying, and without being embarrassed at every turn.  It's for those few who choose to wait for our spaces while we load up bags upon bags of lunch meat, toothpaste, and toilet paper, then wrestle our cranky children into crumb lined, smelly car seats, just so they can save themselves a few steps to the door.  Yes, this one is for you, oh impatient, lazy Parker.  You made a scene, so now I will write one.

When I see your blinker:
I promise that I will actually organize my groceries in the car, instead of quickly throwing the detergent on top of the bread
I promise that I will lovingly pause and kiss each of my children before placing them in their nasty car seats
I promise that I will have a conversation about Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck and any other fictional character, before this car is placed in "Drive."
I promise I will turn on my DVD player, and perhaps watch the first few minutes of that DVD, before I even think about getting on the road.
I promise that I will check my voicemail, text messages, and my hair before moving from that spot.
I will discuss the benefits of coupons, the value of a dollar, and the signs of a true sale, before moving from that spot.
If I have to discipline, I won't wait until I get home, I will gladly let my kids have a full length time out, right then and there.
In other words:

If I can think of ANYTHING that I can possibly do from my car before I move, I will do it.  I don't enjoy making people wait, but I do enjoy taking my sweet old time if it will help mom's everywhere.  Go pick on an empty vehicle like yourselves, and be grateful for your peace. Locate someone whose stress level isn't already about to burst, and blink the daylights out of their space. I just made it out of the store with all of my children, my groceries, and most of my dignity.  So please keep yours, and move it along.

Reinvestment and Recovery Act: Mitchell Style

Jumping on the current Government's bandwagon is not something that I have been "all about" lately.  However they did have a genious idea that although doesn't work for my politics, does in fact work for my interior design. 
I am a girl who is crazy for a project.  Any project, so long as it doesn't make me sweat too much, stays away from poisonous leaves, and in the end beautifies my home... I am interested. 
This new project, that I am coining my "Reinvestment and Recovery Act" has to do with some antique chairs, some stain, a little fabric, a mighty staple gun (my fav), and an oh so hot glue gun.  In other words, I am "Investing in the long term beauty of my dining room by restaining and recovering some Ugly, and making some Fabulous." 
I won't bother you with the details of the how, except for one: MOM.  Yep, I wouldn't have been able to make that first cut into the fabric if she wouldn't have been the one actually holding the scissors:).  I stapled, and she held the fabric, I told her "Yes We Can"... and she let me believe.  We marched ourselves over to the local "Recovery Room"... and marched ourselves right back out.  Who needs a professional when you have will power and an empty wallet to motivate you? 
So here's to the Mitchell Recovery Act.  It doesn't build bridges, but it doesn't raise your taxes either.  You may not like the style for YOUR house, but it also doesn't saddle your kids with debt.  All I know is that this year, when Thanksgiving finds itself around my dining room table, there will be some pretty sweet chairs to match that yummy Turkey. 

Before

Side chairs and Captain Chair



After.. Double Piping and All

Note:  If you are totally confused by the title of this entry, you MAY want to stop reading blogs and start watching the news:).

Wrinkle Free

Back in the day when I would find anything to do for my parents to make a little extra "sweater cash"... my dad would pay me a dollar per shirt ironed.  It was a nice steady income that allowed me to partake in some of the coolest trends in school. Like big bulky clogs, long denim skirts and anything from Fashion Bug the Gap (you know you shopped there too:).  Trend setter or fashion challenged,  (challenged), it paid for what I wanted, and my Dad went to work wrinkle free. 
Fast forward 10 years, and I'm still churning out the wrinkle free, sending off the best pressed man this side of the corporate ladder.  Do I get paid the same rate?  Not really.  Unless you count being able to stay home with three lovely faces every day worth a few less trendy sweaters.  In this house, I'm under the impression of: No Laundromat, No Problem. 
Wrinkles, on the other hand, I've got a big issue with those. 

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Remember in highschool when everything seemed ackward and you just couldn't wait to get out into the real world and really "live"?  Well reality has struck here, and this weekend I realized that my highschool bubble was not as rough as it seemed.  It was 10 year reunion time for our Worthington Christian highschool class. Seeing that my husband was the president of the class, and therefore had to plan the shindig... we were mandatory attendees.  The pre-party had all of the usual fixings for a nerve wracked, what to wear, run more than I ever have the week before, stress fest.  But holy moly was it worth it. 

Coming off of a string of 6 years where life consists of a never ending strand of introductions to new people and new places, it was almost magical to me to be in a room surrounded by friends who have known me and the hubs since before we were "me and the hubs."   No "Hi my name is" there.  Just true genuine friendly faces that to my amazement are still friendly, ten years later.  I've been needing a Cheers moment for a while now, and this weekend was just the fix that I craved.  More than that, it made a impact on me that relationships built on the rock of Christ will survive time and distance in any circumstances.  Pretty cool if you ask me. And I must say, I was just as smitten with the class president as I was all those years ago.   He sure does age well.

Here are some pictures from the evening. 

My dear friends Margaret Cook and Sarah Shank

The guys.. Jack, Jonathan, Michael, Kyle, and President Kevin

Family Park Day