When the Going gets Rough...

I have a dangerous vice: It's a combination of emotional eater and emotional shopper.  Throw a bad day together, and it's almost guaranteed that I am plopped on my couch, Internet shopping with a pizza on it's way, and a Dairy Queen in my hands.  Oh wait.. that just happened yesterday.  Kevin has probably lost count the number of times that I have shot out a desperate 5pm email that reads, "Pick up pizza, and you better get me chocolate if you want to survive the night."  Love notes, I like to get them, and I like to give them. 

Yes, I'm surprised that at this point, with four children that I'm not filing for bankruptcy in my fat pants.  But somehow I guess there have been more good days than bad, and a treadmill in the basement that gives me guilty looks if it is not used every couple of days.  So even though I am currently licking my lips from finishing off my Pecan Cluster Turtle blizzard, with added chocolate chips because it just wasn't chocolaty enough for me (rough day at Meijer with kids, people).. I'm trying to remind myself that life is good, and the bad days (or moments) will probably be followed by some great ones.  At least I hope.  For now I'm just going to stay away from the grocery store for a few days, and try to hide the chocolate chips.  That should allow me to fit into the new jeans that I just bought.

"It's The Economy, Stupid"

To quote James Carville, "It's the economy, stupid."  I'm ready to accept the idea that the economy (or lack there-of) may be the reason behind my currently blank fridge doors this year.  But I'm not willing to go down without a fight.  Usually by this time, in early December, our fridge is starting to fill up with Christmas cards from friends and family telling me to "Have a Merry Christmas," with their perfectly placed children and coordinating outfits. 

However, this year, my own card accounts for 1/4th of the participants. (I like to keep a copy for memories sake).   So I ask... What's the deal?  Did we fall off the cool train and land somewhere between, "No one remembers us"... or "Mitchell who?"  I'm hoping not.  But I think everyone can admit that just like we detect how liked we are by how many facebook comments we get per post..(you know you do), so too do we associate the level of year end friendships by the number of cards on our fridge.  And so far, by the ratio of forty cards sent out compared to the three we have received.. I'm beginning to wonder if there is a message that we just haven't "gotten" yet. 

So if you have some extras this year, send one to us.  It will make my fridge happy, and it will definitely put a little bit more Merry in my step.  Nothing says "We have friends" like staring at you all while I reach for my yogurt.  Merry Christmas!

Glamour Shots: Mitchell Style

We had family pictures taken this weekend.  My sister was behind the rented lens, that was attached to a camera from my friend/ her sister in law.  I will never go back to paying for a photographer again, if they continue to let us borrow it every few years.  It was quick and successful, even though I thought it was over when my skinny jeans were apparently too skinny and ripped on day two, I came away from day 1 wondering if I needed a new hair style, (which is why we had a day two)...and Harry managed to throw up every 5 minutes, completely soaking each outfit both times.   But the good news is that we got some great pictures for our Christmas cards, Charlie wasn't picking his nose in any of them, and the Gap replaced my jeans for free, without calling me fat.  It was good couple of days.  The proof is in the pictures.. so here are my favorites. 

Boots and Butter

Today I got a surprise delivery of Butter.  Not actual butter, (that would be weird)... but leather, in the form of a boot.. that felt like Butter.  Genuine, soft, REAL leather boots.  They were an early Christmas present from Kevin.  One which I will proudly wear all through the Holiday Season.

If my family is reading this, they probably are more shocked that I love the boots, than the fact that Kevin got them for me.  He's generous, but I'm picky.  Every year, when the weather gets below 50 degrees, my boot search heats up.  It's another odd obsession of mine. (see previous fireplace entry).  My sisters roll their eyes for my Black Friday shopping list.  Because they know I will be looking for boots.  My online searches the last few months have been spent on multiple shoe sites; comparing, contrasting, and reading random people's reviews.  And so far, I have purchased three pairs, returned all three pairs, and I was losing hope. 

So when I fell in love with the Born boots, I was hoping for the best, but was going to try to wait until Christmas to try them.  Good thing Kevin knows that I'm not super patient.. and, "I can wait until Christmas," really meant, "I would like them now and then you can remind me at Christmas that they were my present."  As soon as I saw the giant Shoes.com box in my garage, I knew that our marital communication was going strong.  I'm excited to sink my toes into a new pair of shoes; especially ones that feel like butter.  Because we all know that it tastes great on a bagel, but it looks even better on a boot.

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall.. Which Fireplace Do You Like Most of All?

I have a thing for paint brushes.  Particularly ones with paint on them.  Specifically ones that have paint on them that are being used to paint something in my house.  I am also learning that I have a slight obsession with my fireplace.  Either that, or it's completely normal to paint, stain, and paint it again all in three years time. 

So as I have been gaining more and more of my energy back in the last few weeks (or just getting used to only sleeping 4 hours at a time).. the desire to get back to painting something has become more intense.  And, as I feed baby Harry for many hours of the day parked on my couch, staring straight at my fireplace, it's no wonder that it didn't survive another round of scrutiny from this perfectionist. 

I notified Kevin that I could no longer hold back, I must paint something. I was giddy like a school girl opening that can of paint in front of the mantel.  Paint fumes apparently make me happy.  I fully admit, I paint to feel normal, and I had had a nine week break, so I was desperate to feel normal again.  Thankfully for Kevin, at least, this little party of mine was free.  It's a benefit of painting so many rooms for so many years.  There are more left over paint colors in my pantry as the Home Depot offers.  Just pick a color and go.

Kevin was a bit sad to see the stained wood of the mantel painted white. He's a natural wood tone type of guy.  But there's no questioning this makeover.  It's a bit like the fireplace found Botox and regained her confidence.  In my mind, it dropped 20 years and can now compete with the best of the new-builds.  It can display stockings, candles, mirrors, and flowers with the best of them. 

So although we are completely enjoying the baby stages of having a baby... I am happy to say that "Kim's normal" has once again returned to the Mitchell household.  (note: my normal is some people's crazy). Paint fumes, stained laundry room sinks, and power tools,  is how we I thrive.   I'm thinking that my fireplace may stay it's new self for a while now, but you never know. In this house, nothing is safe from the sweet strokes of a paint brush.  Oh the joys of cheap entertainment! 

Here's a slide show of the fireplace through the years.  Notice she's getting younger, even as she ages.  Just like Bob Costas: (Kevin and I still have never seen a wrinkle on that man!)

Moving In: Ugly and Tired.. but with potential


  

Year 1: Brightened Up, but still a bit blah

Year 2: Back to Stained, Brass box gone... still not finished.



Year 3: Here she is in her new glory.  Tiled (a while ago).. and bright. Lovely

My new view from the couch.  As soon as the paint dries, we can decorate.  And it seems it's just in time for stockings.










Don't Blame Me, Blame the Baby

Today was hat day at preschool.  My kids did not have hats with them.  A couple of Friday's ago, there was no school.  I drove them all to school only to find this out from an empty parking lot.  Callie was supposed to bring back notes on how she has been practicing the Fruits of the Spirit that they've been reviewing in class.  Her papers are always a few days late.  We remember 2 out of 3 times to bring stuff for show and tell. 

Yes, we are a bit disorganized around here lately.  But I'm not sure that's the issue.  Heck, I'm always disorganized.  It's how I get so many things done at once.  You have to be a little nuts.  And I've never met an organized person who was also scattered.  They just don't go together. 

I blame Harry.  Plain and simple.  He takes up most of the attention in the house, most of the energy, and most of the sleep.  But this time around, it's really OK.  I'm enjoying the baby stage so much I feel like a grandparent.  Dare I say, "seasoned veteran?"  Maybe that is taking it too far, but this is number four.  If we couldn't handle a few crazy nights by now, we might as well throw in the towel and call in a French au pair. 

I think the other kids will forgive my mindlessness concerning preschool.  I still managed to have cupcakes for Callie's birthday, and Kevin helped her make an entire poster of her life, just to share with her class on her special day.  So we aren't that far gone.  Plus, they tend to have a fondness for Harry too.  If it was legal, I would totally feel comfortable leaving Callie to watch Harry while I went grocery shopping.  She's that good. 

Needless to say, this time around I'm content to sit, stare, and make baby noises instead of doing the dishes. I'm beginning to understand why the last child in families are always the babies (cough Kevin) for life.  It's hard to let go.  So if Harry is still cooking with me when he's 32, I may not be so disappointed.  Watch out ladies, I'm raising a Momma's boy, and for now, I'm not ashamed of it. 

I'm going to get him a shirt that says, "Momma's Boy for Life"

Birthday Weekend

This weekend Callie turned 5, so we celebrated in a big way with a party, Grandma Jan and Papa Bob, some cake, some cookies, some iHOP, and a Lutheran Church.  Yes, we Mitchell's are diverse, and we like to cram a lot into one weekend. 

She invited 4 of her closest friends over for a baking party, complete with new monogrammed aprons for all, and some very messy cookie decorating.  My mom and I swore off eating any of the creations; a direct result of seeing how many times they were licked before the girls put them on the platter. 

Since my parents were in town, Kevin and I again got a date night.  We may have been tired, and taking a nap in sweats may have been more tempting than getting on real pants, but once out with the general public, it was nice to not have any kids around.  Kids that we are responsible for, that is.  Seeing as we ended up eating at Red Robin for convenience, and their never ending fries, there were plenty of youngins around if we started to miss ours.  But I tend not to miss my kids on date night.  And last night was no different:). 

We ended the weekend with a little IHOP per Callie's request, and a little bit of Lutheran music and service, per my Mom and Dad's request.  We scouted out the best church to fit the bill, and went church shopping today.  (NOTE)... we really like our current church, but we are always open to worshipping with other believers.  The church we picked was definitely filled with some of the kindest folks in the area, so whether or not it fit the bill perfectly, it was nice to go and feel welcomed. 

Thanks for another great weekend "break" Mom and Dad.  - You sure you don't want a vacation home here in the great state of Indiana??

The Video

My parents were in town with their sweet iPad.. so we were able to get the kids singing "Holy, Holy, Holy on video.  Did you know those things had video built in?  Maybe I'm the only one.  But I'm impressed.  - However impressing me with technology isn't difficult.  I don't even have a built in camera on my phone (Gasp).  Yes, phones like that are still sold for cheep clients like myself. 

I've gotten a few requests for this to be on the blog, so for those of you who like my kids: enjoy.  And for those of you, like me, who rarely watch other people's blog videos, well then keep it moving.  And I will have another post soon.

In the mean time, my phone is ringing.  It's probably a vocal scout looking to sign my kids.  Being a stage mom is hard sometimes:)

ps. Sorry about the low quality.  The Blogger site (according to my Dad), "dumbs it down"... so you'll have to just listen to the harmonizing

Trick or Treating

Child maturity can be seen in many different areas of a kids life.  Do they help out more? Do they go potty on their own?  Are they kind to their siblings?  However I like to measure it year by year by seeing how long my kids will keep on a Halloween costume.  For some reason, they are born terrified of big, fuzzy outfits that are supposed to make them look adorable to the general public, even while screaming.  Maybe they are worried that if they wear it long enough, just like picking your nose, it will become permanent. 

So this year was a major step in the Mitchell house.  They are practically ready for college now with how long those costumes stayed on.  Jack stayed in character as Winnie the Pooh for a good walk around the block, and Charlie lasted about half that time with the Tigger head still in place.  But I blame that on a size issue rather than a willingness to participate factor... since the costumes were re-used from last year.  We can only expect so much from them if we aren't willing to shell out the dough needed to get a costume that actually fits.

It could also have helped that we were joined by some great friends for our Trick-or Treating, since peer pressure always helps in situations like this.  Plus, they tend to think my friend, "Miss Sarah" takes the cake on mom's everywhere... and would do anything to make her smile: including keeping on a costume.

Needless to say, we are stocked full of candy now, much to my midsections disappointment.  Good thing long sweaters and leggings are in style this year, so I have extra time to try to fit back into my regular jeans.

Here are some pictures of our crew.  The Queen, Winnie the Pooh and Tigger too, a 50's girl, and a Hunter. 

Give me a Break... Give me a Break

I needed a break from the every day routine of preschool, feedings, more feedings, and more feedings.  So naturally (like every good daughter), I called my mom and let her know we were barging in on them for the weekend.

And like every good Grandma does, she began to plan every activity under the sun that could in any way entertain the kids and keep them from whining to their tired mom for two whole days.  It worked.  We went bumper bowling, shopping, pumpkin patching, and finished it off with Grandma and Grandpa teaching their Sunday school class.  Really, it can't get much better than that. 

Wait, yes it can.  Added to the above, they gave baths, read books, did my laundry, and even allowed for Kevin and I to sneak out and have some dinner; ALONE.  I endulged myself in fajitas and a giant margarita.  I loved it, but by the increase of puke from Harry, I don't think he was too fond of my dinner out.  Sorry buddy.

We had a fabulous time, and I was left wondering why I ever moved out of my parents house.  It's cushy there.  But my guess is that it wouldn't be that way if I moved in permantely with four kids.  Things could get cramped and cranky in a hurry:).  So I will grow up and go home, and look forward to Thanksgiving when I can once again eat my mom's dinner and enjoy regressing for a few days. 
Here are some picks for good smiles.

Eli was a kind competitor.  Comforting everyone during their turns

Our Little Bowlers. 

Pumpkin patch slides



Jumping on a huge inflated "pumpkin"



Hay Barn.. and slides. And Norah. 

Charlie was having a moment

Total Kim face.  It's like looking in a mirror.

Kids Zip line. 

Sing it Sister

As my little sister mentioned Here on her blog, songs can have some serious impact in ones life.  So as a self proclaimed music nerd, who knew nothing but contemporary Christian music until around age 16, I can sing out the old hymns like no one's business.  Except for maybe my Dad.

One of my favorite memories of my dad growing up was hearing him belt out "Holy, Holy, Holy" every time he took a shower.  We would all get a good laugh at how the words seemed to alter with every shower... but admittedly, the man did hit every note, even the high ones. 

When we started having song time before bed, and I thought about what song to teach the kids,  that song was on the top of my priority list.  If my boys remember anything from their childhood, I would be happy if one of those things was a good old hymn that speaks no matter what generation is singing it.  To my surprise, the boys have become obsessed with Holy, Holy, Holy.  Often breaking out into spontaneous duets while playing cars. 

So now every preschool morning as I drive heavy eyed and messed up hair (thanks to Mr. Harry)..  the kids and I also blast the Men's Promise Keepers version of the oldie but goodie hymn.  I'm not sure if my kids have any talent in hearing the tune of a song yet, but it's the effort that counts.  It's not as great as shower singing... but like a good hot shower, it wakes us up and gets us ready for the day.  And I'm pretty sure this song will be staple in heaven, so we are just getting in all the practice we can until our tune will really matter.

Scrub a Dub

The amount of baby gear that has been invented from the time that I started having kids to now, is simply amazing.  For example, when Callie was born, we were excited to have a pack n' play that came with a pre-set device filled with lullaby songs.  Fast forward a few years, and they now come with hook ups for your iPod.   

So it was no surprise to me, that along with everything else, the baby bath tub has been much improved upon.  Welcome the Europeans and their super cool Wash Pod.  Note: this does not mean that it also includes a hook up for an Apple device. - we can disconnect the baby from technologoy, at least for bath time:).  No, when the Europeans say "Pod".. they actually mean the word: A vessel, or enclosure. 

I bought it because it looked cool, and we keep it because Harry LOVES it.  It's supposed to remind the baby of thier yester-years back in the womb.  And if it does, then Harry apparently thoroughly enjoyed himself for the past 9 months.  Because he will go from crazy hungry baby to America's calmest 3 week old in a matter of seconds.  Just dip in the water, and all is peaceful in baby bath land.

So until he can fend for himself in the larger bathtub world filled with wild brothers and tons of plastic toys, he will remain safe in his Pod, dreaming of the easy life of yesterday.  And looking like the cutest clean baby in all of Indiana. 

Birthday Boys

Their own number "3's."  I'm adamant about them being individuals:)

It's been three years now since Kevin and I were thrown into the world of multiples... and today we celebrated the cute little boys who have forever made this house loud (and fun).  We went low key this year, opting out of a big birthday bash splurge, since we did just have a lot of excitement with having a baby.  But the boys didn't seem to care.  They got a visit from cool uncle Andy, Kevin bought them a wall mounted car track, and I made them smile for pictures until they were so confused they started begging for a "cheese cookie." 

But the biggest excitement of the week actually happens tomorrow.  We re-enrolled the boys in preschool, once I realized that I am indeed, no supermom.  And I would like some time for myself on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, from 8:20 to 11:20.  Harry and I need some more snuggle time since the 3am feedings just aren't enough.  They have a 2 week trial run, to see if they mesh well with the class, and if they pass, they can stay the rest of the year.  So I have been busy lecturing Jack that he shouldn't hit the teacher, and helping Charlie understand that if he picks his nose, he may not have friends who share toys with him. Here's hoping they pass, because the thought of walking around Target with only one baby is almost too good to be true.

Looking back, it's been 3 very busy, but great years. Twins are double the trouble, but double the fun.  They really are best buds, and I even think that in their more "mature" age, there is now more laughing than tears.  So I will say again what I will say every year for the rest of my life;   We survived another year...  Praise the Lord.   We love you boys, Happy Birthday!

My annual "let's see how many years I will be able to hold them" picture



Even Harry got a party hat, but sadly, no cake



A Big Thanks

Regrettably, I don't have many pictures of all of the family help that we have had these past 2 weeks.  I guess that's what happens when it's the 4th kid.  I think we took about 50 pictures a day when Callie was born, tracking every yawn, every eye opening, every- everything.  Nevertheless.. we are grateful for the abundance of help that rushed in to help us in our post 4th baby state of need.

Kevin's mom came and held down the house (and the kids) while I was enjoying some time away in the hospital.  Making sure that Callie was appropriately dressed, fed, and ready for school by 7:40am.  And then had the tiring task of entertaining all the kids for the rest of the day, which is no easy feat.

My mom came and took care of business (hers and ours) for the second week.  Multitasking to the limit by taking out bushes, directing tree cutting guys, cooking dinners, and selling houses all at the same time.  I think her record of selling at least one house while out of town was still upheld during her visit.  Which I enjoy, because it only means there is more motivation for her to come back. 

The final leg was supported by my amazing Grandparents, who drove in with 2 coolers full of food, and a tool belt full of paint brushes to help stock our freezer and complete some undone house projects.  As my Grandma cooked with Callie and taught the boys puzzles and books, my Gramps painted trim, grouted tile, and tackled some electrical.  Now that is how to get things done. 

It's amazing what this family accomplishes with a newborn in the mix.  It was a busy two weeks, but we are very thankful for everyone who came to visit us.   There is nothing better than having that many Grandparents love your kids, and be so willing to come and help out their crazy kids (meaning me and Kevin).  Here are some pictures that we did get during the fun.

Grandma Peggy taking a break to meet baby Harry 

Afternoon circus: Watching a crew take down two trees.  Inspired by Grandma Jan

When Harry met Harry

Best Great Grandparents in the World