The Tale of a Blue T-Shirt

When I thought about having boys, I swore to myself that I would not have the type of boys that run around in t-shirts and sweat pants.  I was convinced that my boys would be the well dressed ones, collars up, button shirts, and nicely pressed cargo pants. 

Then you have boys, and you encounter the "easy" fleece section of Target.  Not only is the t-shirt and fleece area cheaper than the cool outfits, but it also results in less tears from two crazy boys who apparently do care what they wear.  Remember, we are budget central here, and buying two of everything can be down right depressing come register time.

So I gave in.  I gave in to sweat pants, button less collars, or no collars at all.  Sweat shirts, fleece, stains... the whole truck load.  (I even let Callie wear Character tees - another sworn no no that is for another post).  Lately, my penny pinching and laziness has lent itself to one son who now cries every Sunday before church because he has to wear buttons (Sound familiar Uncle Andy??), and one son who although protests less, still prefers his comfort to his style.

Enter in the tale of the blue t-shirt.  Jack has been known to find something he loves, and use it until he kills it.  Proof of this is his almost brown-ish blankey (even after a bleach wash), and his pooh bear who is no longer bright orange, but more of a fallish burnt orange, with a touch of green... coloring.  He goes everywhere with them, and they look the part.  So when the other day, he began specifically asking for a certain blue T, I knew I was in for trouble.  First problem, the shirt doesn't fit anymore.  It's 18 months.  Second of all, how is a mother supposed to wash when kid wants to wear said shirt at bed, and during the day for play?  But at this point, I make it a point to avoid all useless tears, so the t-shirt has won for the last two weeks.

Yes, we wash it every couple of days, and it if had major stains, I would wrangle him out of it, even with sobbing.  Although not fashionable, it works.  It makes him happy, and it makes dressing easier in the morning when all that needs changed are pants.  I will have Kevin tackle the button issue later, like when he starts dating.  So we have some time.  And in the mean time, you can be sure that boy will be squeezed into the shirt every birthday picture, just as a bit of friendly retaliation for all of the wash his mother is currently doing for this odd preference.

What's in a Friend?

From a females perspective, guy friendships are both odd and inspiring.  Odd, because somehow guys seem to be great friends without always uttering a bunch of words like us women do.  And inspiring, because there is nothing greater than knowing that your husband has close male friendships that can last through the years, and is getting encouraged in the way he understands, not always how we, as women, would give it. 

So when it comes to Kevin's friends, and his birthday, there was only one answer.  His best friend from high school who has been with us from the beginning of "us", and who not only looks like he could be Kev's brother, but is also as close as one.  And you know he's a good friend when he was willing to drive 5 1/2 hours each way just to help Kevin celebrate turning 29.  We thank you very much, Ben Hathaway.

His surprise trip consisted of great tickets to a Cincinnati Reds game (his favorite baseball team), and a night on the town with Ben in Cincinnati.  But leave it up to two sports fans to turn an already fun day into an even better one.  Along with being a Reds fan, Kevin is also a patient Indiana Pacers fan.  (Patient, because for the last 5 years or so, they have not warranted anyone paying money to see them).  So, instead of finding a good restaurant to watch them on TV, the boys decided to really make a day of it, and drive to Indy to watch the Pacers in all of their playoff glory.  Scalped tickets, check.  Crazy fans, double check.  Pacers lose, check check, and check.  But no matter the outcome, these boys had fun, and Kevin may have finally enjoyed his birthday for once.  - (He never gets excited over birthdays, but over our 9 years I am slowly convincing him that they are fun). 

We wished we lived closer to the amazing Hathaway family... seeing as I adore his wife also, who was my college roommate.  And yes, I do take some credit for that marriage:).  But we are so grateful that even as far away as we are, when occasions really matter, these friends come through.  Did I mention Courtney just had a baby and still let Ben leave?  Thanks Courtney... I owe you big. 

Happy Birthday, once more, to Kevin.  I love you, and I'm so glad that this Birthday was so much better than a good Monday. 

Celebrating at home with an ice cream cake

Asked him to take a picture of him and Ben, and this is what I got.  Such Guys:)

Proof of attending Pacer Game. 

Birthday Secrets

Tomorrow Kevin turns 29, and we are still safe from another year of officially being in our 30's.  Ugh.  I've been working on a fun surprise for his birthday, which I can't spill now because he reads this blog from time to time.  But I will write it out once he is on his way tomorrow. 

I love surprising people.  Which sadly rarely works out because according to Kevin, (and my entire family), I'm the worst secret keeper ever.  Guilty as charged.  But it's only because I get so darn excited that if I have to wait a week to spill... that is challenge for this girl. 
Either way, he's already slightly celebrated with a barrage of new ties from my favorite new website, tiebar.com.  Regular ties only $15, and extra long, for our super tall husbands are only $20.  Try beating that with a Macy's sale. 

For most guys, getting a tie a day for the last 5 days or so would be a bummer.  But my fashion conscience husband was very thankful.  And because he was so nice, we will hopefully end this week long birthday bash on a high note with something having absolutely nothing to do with a corporate office, or fabric.   Think guy stuff.  Guy time.  That's what he needs, and hopefully that is what he will enjoy.  Say goodbye to the office for a few days Kev.  You are off to actually enjoy yourself for a few sweet hours.  Happy Birthday!

Oh Weekend, Oh Weekend

I take our weekends here pretty seriously.   I'm kinda like a self professed weekend slave-driver.   Not in the slave driver, work till you drop sense that has been given to all Johnson's (my maiden name)... but a "you better not be going into work again," slave driver. Not great for a wife with a husband with a very demanding job.  But we have worked on it, and he has learned how to protect those precious few days from lots of computer time, and I have learned how to control my eye rolling every time the computer is turned on.  

So this weekend, after a few very hectic, very busy, Kevin at the office all day long Saturdays, my sacred two days have returned.  Holy moly is it nice.  No sleeping in, of course (we've got three kids for goodness sake)... and not a super relaxing coffee hour breakfast (again, 3 kids).  But after the rush of the morning, the kids retreat to the basement to "do their business" in their diapers, and Kevin and I had some time to relax.  And double bonus: the cable guy was here, actually installing cable.  Turns out having a triple play is cheaper than trying to go without TV. Seriously.

If the day would have ended there, I might have been happy.  HGTV is back in my living room!  But no, we were enjoying ourselves too much.  So we napped,  we Family shopped at Meijer, (my fav), and we had a nutritious dinner at Burger King.  All while watching a Final Four game.  No home improvement to speak of, and the Blackberry was actually lost most of the day.  Beautiful:).

All families need to rest together at least one day a week, in my opinion.  It's the glue that keeps us all ticking.  So welcome back, dear weekend.  You have been missed, and needed.  It's nice to have a familiar friend back in the family plan.

Those Were the Days

Not sure. Crazy Kids

Senior "Fall Formal"

Family Camping Trip

I'm sure more people end up marrying their high school sweetheart than I realize.  (I did, my sisters both did, and about 10% of our senior class did).  And why not?  High school stinks for most people - the ones who say it's the best time of your life are lying.  They were probably just popular bullies.  So if you find someone that makes you feel like a million bucks, why not hang onto them for the rest of your life?  Assuming, of course, that they don't turn around and dump you the moment college comes. 

I've been enjoying a few days of  nostalgia while we have been house bound by a sick 4 yr old.  Combine that with searching the house for new, older pictures to hang in our bedroom, and I found myself sitting in front of Kevin's "Things worth remembering" box.  (I made him widdle it down to one box to keep the really important details of the past.  No need to have a basement full:).   So as I pulled out odds and ends that I'm still not sure why he felt they were worth remembering: (piano books?), I also pulled out a gold mine of old emails during our high school days.  Gross, I'm sure my family is thinking about now.  Yes, I'll admit, we find no shame in grossing people out with affection.  So why stop now?

A years worth of daily emails that we have kept in a Christmas tin were pretty cool to read through.  I'm still convinced that I would have married Kevin after our first date - That is, if we weren't living with our parents, and in high school. And although reading them has made me grateful for the growth in my writing skills,  it also made me grateful for this relationship that we somehow knew would last way back in our Junior year.  Our parents were terrified, (I would be if that were my kid).  And I'm positive that they had some good laughs over our letters that we left laying around the house way too often.  Yet they had the wisdom to encourage us because they must have known too. 

So now, they are good for this mom to read. Especially on the days where enough sleep didn't happen, and my big blue bathrobe is the cutest outfit I could find.  I have been reminded that this life we are living now is what we hoped for back then.  That our "Someday" as we called it, has already come.  A reason why I refuse to let the tune, "Back to reality" be hummed here.  Our reality is pretty great, even on the days when kids scream, and work sucks.  And I am as sure now, as I was back then, that I will still follow you anywhere, Kevin Mitchell.  It's all I wanted back then, and it's really all I want right now.   Three cheers for email back in the 90's.. and an extra three cheers for high school.  - even if I want to block the rest out.

Compressed Excitement

Today was a big day in my life as a part time construction apprentice.  I have a lot of hero's, Moses from the Bible, George W. from the White House, and John Adams from way back when.  But my hero in the realm of redoing and rehabbing is Amy Matthews.  She's on the DIY network, hosting the show, Sweat Equity.  She's the real deal.  A licensed contractor who can handle power tools like no ones business.



You Go Girl

 So, when I find myself in the midst of another room redo (like our current Master Bedroom project), I try to channel, "What would Amy Do?"  But there was always one area that no matter how hard I would try, I was still at the mercy of Kevin's busy work schedule, and his limited time to help me.  Not today friends. 

Today, (after a brief tutorial from Kev last night), I mastered the nail gun.  The loud one, attached to an air compressor.  The one that makes it sound like there is a real construction crew working upstairs.  It was awesome.  I'm pretty sure Callie thought I was as cool as I felt.  She sat on the bed, a safe distance away, while I nailed in the wood trim like an old pro.  I only had to tear out one mistake, but quickly found my way back to Amy land. 

Needless to say, Kevin's nights will now be less filled with my sad pleading for help, and nap time for the kids may be a bit louder as the compressor does it's job.  This house is becoming complete, and I can finally sleep in my bedroom again.  All great things for everyone. 

Move Over Beethoven

Yes, it may take a few years, and some unexpected flash of music genius.  But today we are officially on our way to creating three little musicians in our house.  Or at least one step closer to actually having a way to practice if our kids should decide that piano lessons are in their future.

Kevin's Grandpa Bill kindly gave us his baby grand piano, and his parents generously had it shipped to my living room.  It's a beautiful antique, even if none of us ever become players at Carnegie Hall.  At least I like how it looks in my living room. 

So the question becomes, at what age should I start Callie at her lessons?  If I were a Tiger Mom, I'm sure I would have had a teacher here when the piano arrived.  But I'm not.  I just hope she practices a bit more than I did way back when.  I was too obsessed with making it home to watch "Hey Dude" than I was to concentrate on what my teacher was telling me.  What can I say, for a not so outdoorsy girl, that Dude Ranch captured all of my Nickelodeon interest. 

And just so my family is aware.  I've already tested it.  "Thy Word" has busted it's way through this house, even without the sheet music.  I was a bit rusty, but I'm sure with a few more days of playing the same song over and over again (because it's all I know how to play)... like Celine said, It will begin to all come back to me now:). 

So thank you Grandpa Bill, and Peggy and Geoff.  We feel very lucky to have it now in our house.  Here's hoping that someday we will be able to do it justice, and let it play like it used to under the fingers of Grandma Jo.