Mike and Kath Say “I do” Take 2

Last week, Walgreens was having a sale on photo prints, so I decided to finally make an attempt to print out some photos from our wedding to hang our walls so it looked like people lived in our house. It was a very half-assed attempt, as the photos are still sitting on our dining room table, but Mike and I enjoyed looking through them and thinking back on the day we got married for the second time.

Me asking if we should go for round three and Mike flat out saying “We’re not going for round three.”

It’s hard to believe a wedding we spent a year planning and replanning is already behind us-over four months behind us. (Although those thank you note are definitely not behind us.) It seems like just yesterday we were starting our wedding journey, at Crate & Barrel, setting up our wedding registery. We should have hired a photographer to capture that memorable day for Mike and me. Crate & Barrel had a free event for engaged couples to come and peruse the store before it opened to the general public and check out things to register for. We heard it was fun…and we heard they gave you free mimosas, so we decided to go. But, the day the “fun event” arrived we realized it started at 8am on a Sunday, it was freezing cold outside, there was snow on the ground and we were both hungover. We were struggling. The whole time we were there it seemed as if all the other couples knew exactly what they were doing and having a grand old time. But Mike and I…our troubles began before those Crate & Barrel doors opened:

Since it was freezing out I did a mad dash from where we parked to the door only to discover the store doors were locked “Ahh Mike! The doors are locked! Did we get the date wrong?!” I said to a hungover Mike (and our scheduler) who was slowly coming up behind me as I did my “I’m cold” jig by the locked door. “It’s just locked because it’s closed to the general public,” he said calmly. “There’s a lady coming now to unlock it for us.”

“Good morning! Are you here for our engaged couples registry event?!” The lady said cheerfully as I burst through the door to get warm and Mike slowly followed “Yes.” We both said. “Wonderful!” She said, “Now if you could just go to that table over there and I’ll be with you shortly to get you all checked in.”

As we walked a few steps into the massive store I turned to Mike, “Shoot, Mike!” I wasn’t listening or paying attention to that lady when we walked in! Where are we supposed to go to sign in?!”

“Well I don’t know either!” He said. “But Mike!” I said. “You’re supposed to be the listener!” “Well I know but I’m hungover!” He said back defensively. “I’m pretty sure she said over here though so let’s just wait at this table.” Mike said. So we walked over to a section of the store with a table and waited to get all signed in for our fun little couples event. As we waited for what seemed like a LONG TIME I admired all the cute little toys, baby giraffes and cribs that seemed to be surrounding us. Seemed a little weird to me they were pushing the baby stuff on everyone when no one at this event was even married yet. But I just kind of shrugged and became distracted by how expensive it all was. Yikes. We both started to wonder what was taking this lady so long and we started to get annoyed. No one even seemed to be around! Finally some lady came around the corner. “Um..excuse me, what are you two doing over there?” She said cheerfully confused. “Yes! Hi! We are here for the wedding registry event for engaged couples!” I said back. Trying to sound excited. “Yes right, I know.” she said, “I’m the one that let you in the door, but you are in the children’s section right now, and that part of the store is closed, you need to come over here.” That’s when we noticed the lights were off in the section we were standing in. Whoops. That wasn’t our only little hiccup with that lady. Long story short we were supposed to upload a photo of ourselves for our registry page and we ended up accidentally uploading a photo of a teapot instead. Then we couldn’t get it off. Stayed there through our whole year of wedding planning. I think this lady was wondering if she really should have left us in the children’s section.

There we are, Kathleen and Michael, the Vintage Grey Tea Kettle. It’s a little harder to see the whole tea pot from a mobile phone view but you get the idea.


After we struggled through the whole sign up process it was time to begin the fun part-registering for our plates and dishes and other cookware that we would use for years to come. Since we were not registering for new utensils, I came prepared-I whipped out my spoon from home I had brought along in my purse and I was ready to test out some dishes. I brought my “Testing Spoon” to test out the noise our current silverware would make against these new dishes. If this was going to be our “forever” plates/bowls/cups I didn’t want to FOREVER have to listen to awful banging and clacking noises as my fork hit my plate or spoon hit a cereal bowl in the morning. That noise just hurts my ears. Mike knew dish shopping with me wasn’t going to be easy.

So, once we overcame the hurdle of the registration table I was ready to go with my testing spoon, just walking around tapping away at the different plates and bowls. We got some strange looks, and many offers to help from all the nice staff people, to which we respectfully declined. In fact Mike and I found them OVERLY helpful and we were getting annoyed. “Man!” Mike said, “These ladies are like vultures! can they just leave us alone so we can look at some plates?!” “Seriously!” I added in the same tone. “What’s a couple have to do around here to just peacefully walk around with a testing spoon and tap on some plates?!”

If any engaged couple reading this needs to borrow my testing spoon, just let me know.

So, fast forward through:
Wedding dress shopping…

Mo Money loves her MO-mosas

Pre-Cana…

I want a dog SO BADLY and Mike doesn’t love me so he won’t agree to get one yet.

Bridal showers…

I was only slightly late for my own shower. But my nails looked great.

And lots of other fun wedding festivities, and our (second) wedding week was finally here!

We were so stressed out about everything we had left to do before the wedding that we had to binge watch Breaking Bad and lay on the couch to cope with our anxiety.

The night before our second wedding we had our rehearsal at the church and then dinner at our favorite restaurant, Ken’s on Western. Here Mike and I gave our wedding party their gifts-coolers, the gift that keeps on giving. Most brides do cutesy gifts for their bridesmaids like robes or pajamas, but not me. “They don’t need any more of that crap!” I said to Mike one day, “I’m sure they have enough of it already.” (I realized I sounded exactly like my Dad) When I heard Mike was giving his groomsmen golf coolers I decided to go with the oh-so-versatile “backpack cooler.” Mike and I had purchased a backpack cooler together early on in our relationship (That’s when you know things are serious-when you make a major purchase like that together) and we’ve loved it ever since. So I thought my bridesmaids would love one too. Turned out to be a huge hit. They even came with a bottle opener and ice packs!

And it has pockets!!

The rehearsal dinner was great, we had a wonderful evening with family and friends. It was a great way to kick-off our second wedding weekend.

The morning of our (second) wedding day I woke up in my old bedroom in my parents’ house and it was still dark outside. “Wow!” I thought to myself, looking up at the stars, smiling, “The stars seem to be shining EXTRA bright today!” Of course I was talking about the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling of my bedroom. Still there after all these years. And still making my Dad angry after all these years. They always give me a good laugh just thinking about them. We decided to spend the night before our second marriage apart, the traditional way, so I went back to my parents’ after the rehearsal dinner and Mike went out for a bit and then back to our house for the night. How nice for the men to have the luxury to stay our late and sleep in a bit on your wedding day, huh? On wedding days guys can get ready in a flash, but any girl knows that if you’re in a wedding, and you’re getting your hair and makeup done, expect to be there about five to seven business days before the ceremony starts.

**All Brides: “Ok girls! Ceremony starts at 3pm so first bridesmaid scheduled for hair please arrive at 1am! But we’ll have coffee, mimosas and pastries so it’s all good!”

You always have to try to soften the blow by letting the girls know their will be coffee, food and mimosas there. And if you’ve never put together a hair and makeup schedule for a group of people, let me just tell you, it’s harder than the entire ACT or SAT. Makeup takes longer than hair, you have to factor in photography time, what time the bus is getting there, etc. It took my Mom, sister and me DAYS to figure out my bridal parties’ hair and makeup schedule. I told Mike I felt like the chess champion/child prodigy from the show the ‘Queen’s Gambit,’ where she lays in bed using the ceiling to move different chess pieces in her mind. I basically did the same thing every night except instead of chess pieces I was moving bridesmaids time for their hair and makeup. His response was, “Just to clarify, you are comparing yourself to a fictional genius and world chess champion?” “Yes,” I replied, “Any more questions, MIKE?” “No.” He wisely said.

Just digging in to my donut feast. It’s very important to start a wedding day with a nutritious breakfast.

Boys don’t understand the struggle. They throw a suit on and then drink alcohol before the ceremony starts. That’s about it. We have lots of pictures to prove it too.

Cheersing goodbye to his freedom I assume.

Meanwhile the girls…

Had to get one more photo with the Hippo Wallpaper in our kids’ bathroom at my parents house!

Once everyone was all dolled up it was time to take the short bus ride to the church where I was immediately shoved in a tiny room so “no one could see me before the big reveal.” This was by far the worst part of the day for me. The room was very hot on this 90 degree day. It was very small. I was in a big beautiful dress complete with headband and veil but it weighed about 30 pounds. I also had about 30 pounds of makeup and hairspray on. I was sweating. I was in the “church library” but it felt like a prison cell and I was getting ready to bust out of there. I was only supposed to be in there a few minutes but as wedding ceremony seem to never start on time, the clock ticked on as I sat in there sweating by myself. The worst part was that this tiny little room was right by the entrance so I could hear everything going on, I just couldn’t see anything. Every once in a while my Mom or one of my bridesmaids would “check in on me” and then go back to having their fun with all our guests. My anxiety grew, I just wanted the ceremony to get started.

The prison cell also doubled as a daycare for my older siblings’ kids. It was a multi-purpose room.
Jesus in the back, photo bombing me and Connor with the classic peace sign.

I could hear Mike laughing and mingling and having a grand old time with our guests as I sat in my prison cell. “What?! Is he running for alderman or something?!” I said sarcastically to my Mom and sister who took pity on me and finally came to sit with me and keep me company. “Can you tell him to quit chit chatting and get to his spot so we can start this already! The more time he talks the more time I’m in here!” Mike has a great ability to engage anyone in conversation, and it it one of the many things I love about him. But at this moment I did not partculiarly have a great appreciation for his “gift of gab” as he sometimes refers to it when we are already late starting our ceremony and I am stuck in a prison cell the whole time. There I was baking in this tiny room while my husband is out there acting as if he’s hosting the neighborhood barbecue, delaying our wedding. All I wanted was fresh air.

My good friend Nancy Keeping me sane in my prison cell and making sure my bridal party made it down the aisle ok!

Finally I heard the music start, our bridal party lined up and the ceremony was starting. I was finally let out of my prison cell. “Does anyone have an oxygen mask for me?” I said jokingly to my Dad and friend Nancy, who was helping line up our bridal party so that things ran smoothly. I grabbed my Dad’s arm. I could see the entire church through the closed all-glass doors.

It was just me and my Dad left at the back of the church at this point. We were just about to be given the signal to start walking down the aisle when I feel something break loose from my facial region and fall straight into the abyss of what should be my chest, but is really just an empty padded bra, and into my dress. I have so much stuff on that I cannot tell if it’s an earring, a big piece from my headband or if my hair just came undone. I am panicked as I have about a millisecond before I’m supposed to walk down the aisle. I am frantically but gingerly feeling around my face and head trying to figure out what just fell into the grand canyon that I call my chest, resisting the urge to just reach down my dress and grab whatever fell. If I did, the entire congregation would see me through the glass doors. So instead I try whisper screaming to my Dad, “Dad! Dad!” I scream whisper. He doesn’t even turn the slightest bit. This was a time when I really wished my dad wasn’t so hard of hearing. He is also about a foot taller than me so the height difference wasn’t helping this cause either. “Dad!” I scream whisper a little louder. This time I’m pretty sure the back row heard me, but my Dad still didn’t. Finally I give him a little hit with my bouquet “DAD!” Finally he turns and looks at me. “WHAT?!” He says annoyed. “IS MY HAIR MESSED UP?! DO I HAVE AN EARRING MISSING?!” I am frantically asking. “A WHAT?! YOUR HAIR?” He asks back looking extremely confused. I don’t blamed the man, I myself felt like I was in the twilight zone as I never EVER imagined myself EVER asking my Dad for any sort of advice on my hair. Desperate times call for desperate measures though. “Nevermind!” I say back, “Do I at least have both earrings in?” I’m praying my Dad can at least help me with this. “What?!” He says again looking around at my face, still confused, “What am I supposed to be looking for? An EAR…RING?” He said it as if the word had never left his mouth before. I had to abort the entire mission. I started to laugh. I didn’t know if my hair looked like I rolled out of bed now or if I had some sort of piece of jewelry missing but at this point I didn’t care. “Nevermind, Dad.” I said with a laugh “All good. Let’s do this.” And we walked down the aisle. And by “We” I mean me, my Dad, and whatever had fallen into my dress and was uncomfortably in there.

Really enjoying fresh air and people here as you can see.

And when we did the old hand-off, you know giving old maid Kath from one Mike to the other, this is the first time I messed up. You would think with this being our second marriage I would know what I was doing but nope. It was as if I didn’t attend the rehearsal the day before. My Mom always used to tell me when I was little that “I needed to work on my listening skills” because apparently I wasn’t good at listening or something, I don’t know, I stopped listening to her reasons why, I always got distracted, but now I think she was on to something. When Mike, my Dad and I all met at the end of the aisle, my Dad and Mike shook hands, as businessmen do. Well, even though I am an experienced business woman having gone on TWO business trips, I like to show a little more love than what a handshake can show. But I wasn’t really thinking about wedding day etiquette. When Mike and I see each other we always give one another a little kiss on the cheek hello. So I gave my Dad a kiss goodbye and then went in for the “hello, good, to see you today” kiss on the cheek to Mike, forgetting that you aren’t technically supposed to do that at a wedding until you’re announced as a married couple. HOW SCANDALOUS OF ME!! Mike, the ruler follower and listener in our relationship, did not forget. So when I went in for the kiss he freaked out, and moved away whisper yelling “No! What are you doing?! Not yet!” And stopped me. Ouch. Luckily, I’m no stranger to rejection so this didn’t really phase me. I just simply turned to all my Bridesmaids, shrugged and jokingly yelled “DENIED!” We didn’t realize until months later when we got our photos back that our photographer actually captured the moments after this romantic exchange.

Businessmen finalizing their business deal. You can see by the look on my face that I don’t remember what I am supposed to do here because I wasn’t paying close enough attention at the rehearsal the night before. Sorry Mom you were right! I need to be a better listener!
DENIED!!!!

About midway through the mass the mystery item that fell into my dress finally finished it’s journey and made it’s way onto the floor of the altar. Turns out it was a gigantic hair clip that was helping keep about the whole left side of my hair in place. It’s truly a miracle my hair stayed looking so great. That God for hair spray.

Once we sat down Mike realized he forgot to give the priest the rings. Luckily they were in the back of church, but he forgot to actually give them to the priest. He just “left them on a little table behind the altar area.” “Shoot, Kath do you think he knew where to find them and maybe grabbed them before mass?” Mike asked sounding hopeful. “Mmmmm nope not a chance.” I said laughing. If this was my time to be reassuring maybe I wasn’t but I couldn’t lie IN CHURCH! “What do you think all priests just have like a sixth sense of where to find hidden wedding rings?” “I don’t know I thought maybe he might know to just grab them!” Mike said sounding a little worried. “It’s fine I said, all we’ll have to do is send someone back there once we go up to do our vows.” I said back. I wasn’t the least bit worried. After having to plan and replan a wedding during COVID, I didn’t even consider this an issue. Plus we were already married. But at this point Mike began trying to get our priest’s attention by raising his hand as if he had a question in class and scream whispering to him. (Lots of scream whispering at our second wedding.) “Father! Father! I LEFT THE RINGS ON THAT TINY LITTLE TABLE IN THE BACK…” Mike began to scream whisper to our priest who didn’t even turn our way. “What are you doing?” I said laughing. “He is like 100ft away from us he’s never going to be able to hear you. And you look like a third grader who has a question for the teacher!” We both had a good laugh, sat back and just enjoyed the mass. The priest did have to stop to sneak in the back to grab those rings but no one seemed to notice.

Discussing the whereabouts of our rings.

During the mass I think I got myself tangled in the train of my dress about 1000 times. Every time I had to make a turn I had to be untangled by Mike or my maid of honor, my sister Jane. I was like those dogs that keep getting tangled up in their own leash because they won’t stop moving every time their owner tries to untangle them. “Kath, remember what the priest said, just always try and turn to the right and your train will follow.” “Ahhh I know but I feel like I’m driving a boat!” I said. “I can’t even steer this thing!”

Once we were married again it was time for pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. We decided to go by a pond near our home and we really lucked out with the weather. I think I inadvertently captured a few turtles, frogs and geese dragging the train of my dress around that pond, but we got some great photos.

Mike picking the frogs out of my dress.

After pictures it was time for the reception. When planning our reception Mike and I didn’t want or need many extravagant or elaborate things. We basically wanted good drinks, good food and good music. But specifically we wanted that good food to be plated as opposed to “Family Style.” Nothing gives us more anxiety than going to an event where the meal is “Family Style” and you’re passing around all the food at your table. There’s just never anywhere to put the dishes. Then everyone is fumbling trying to move stuff on the table around so that there is a spot for the potatoes between the gigantic centerpiece and everyone’s 17 glasses and 36 utensils they have set out in front of them. Then someone always takes too much and there’s not enough for everyone else. Plus Mike has short arms, mine are just plain scrawny and weak so it’s hard for us to pass things. Those dishes are heavy. So moral of the story… we couldn’t have that at our wedding, we couldn’t do that to our guests.

The only thing we really splurged on were the coozies. But we couldn’t NOT have coozies at our wedding! I am pretty sure Mike and I have a coozie addiction. We just can never get enough of them. We’ll be at other peoples’ weddings with coozies and at the end of the night Mike will come up to me and be like “Here Kath, can you put these in your purse? I grabbed us three extra coozies.” To which I’ll usually respond with something like “I already have four in there, I’m not sure I can fit any more.” But I always find a way. And that is why we have coozies just spilling out of drawers and cabinets in our home.

TAKE 2 get it? Because we tried once and then COVID said no so it was take 2. Good times.

Our reception went off without a hitch (as far as I know) The speeches were amazing, the music was great and the food was plated. At the end of the night, the DJ told me I got to pick the final song to close out the night. “You’re the bride.” He said “You get to choose the last song!” “Ok, I’d like you to play Mr. Brightside.” I said confidently. Mike and I like that song, and I wanted to end the night on it. “Well, usually we play something slower or something like Last Dance to let people know it’s the end of the night.” “Oh, that’s nice.” I said back. “But I’d still like Mr. Brightside.” “But I already played that.” The DJ said back. “Yes you did.” I was well aware he already played the song. “How about something else?” The DJ said. “But I thought you said I was the bride and got to pick, and I’d like Mr. Brightside please.” He finally relented and played it for me. It was great.

Mike’s vest really stole the show that night.
I asked someone to toss me a rag, figured I might as well polish up the chandeliers while I was up there.
Our future children are doomed to be terrible dancers.

After that people came back to our house to continue the festivities. We finally kicked them out at 5am. Everyone except my sister Jane, my Maid of Honor, who decided to spend our first night as an official married couple with us. She takes her Maid of Honor duties very seriously.

The next morning we had a nice little brunch at my parents’ house and then since it was a Saturday we went out to the bars. Mike and I (And Jane) were discussing the driving situation when we got back to our house-whether we should Uber or drive and just leave my car there overnight. Finally we decided it was best to drive my car and go back and get it the next day. “Ugh fine,” I said. “But when it comes time to getting the car tomorrow, we’re BOTH going to get it, not just me. We’re in this together now.” I said “Oh now is when you decided we’re in this together?” Mike said laughing “Four years of dating, two weddings and buying a house together but NOW, NOW, when it comes to picking up your car the next day, now is when you decide we’re in this together?” “Correct.” I said “As I think you’ll come to realize that picking up my car tomorrow will be a more of a mountain we’ll need to climb than you’ve first thought, as I know tomorrow we will both be on the couch and not want to be in daylight.”

My sister Jane likened herself “to a trash bag” that day and yet still rallied and went out.

When I asked my niece Ava what her favorite part of the wedding day was, she told me it was “Having a snack.” I don’t recall that part, honestly the whole day seemed to go by in a blink of an eye. All I remember was what an amazing day it was with our family and friends. When Mike and I first met, I knew I was going to marry him, but I never would have dreamed we’d be rescheduling our wedding. But it really turned out to be a blessing. I got to marry my best friend twice and have two awesome wedding weekends. Plus, now Mike has to get me TWO anniversary gifts every year. I’d call that a win.

Take that COVID, we won.

Dewey Lake “Happy”

A few weekends ago, I was up at my parents lake house in Michigan. It was dreary, cold, rainy and damp but it was an exciting weekend nonetheless as it was the weekend the new oven would finally arrive! Not everyone in my family was able to make it up to say one final goodbye to our old oven so I thought it was my duty to give our old oven the send off it deserved. I sent a photo of our emotional goodbye to my parents and siblings:

We were all sad to see the old girl go but we were rather excited to actually have an oven that you could set the correct temperature on. The oven was so old that all the numbers were scratched off which made it nearly impossible to properly preheat the oven. Everyone had an extremely difficult time using it, everyone except my Mom that is. She had a system down and couldn’t understand why everyone thought that it was so hard to use the oven. Every time one of us needed to cook something (usually it was just a frozen pizza), and our Mom wasn’t there, we usually ended up having to call/Facetime her, and these are the instructions she would give:

Mom: “I don’t know why you kids seem to have such an issue using this oven! It’s actually pretty easy once you get the hang of it. Ok here is what you do. Turn the temperature knob, the second to the left NOT THE FAR LEFT ONE, and since you can’t see any of the numbers on the knob you’re going to turn it all the way until you can’t turn it any more. That means the oven is on broil. Ok? Now, if you look closely you will see tiny notches on the knob. But they are hard to see-Dad and I usually have to get out the magnifying glass and get out a flashlight. Both are in the drawer in the cabinet near the side door so maybe grab that. Ok, are you still with me? Ok now that it’s on broil you’re going to have to work backwards and try and count the notches. Every once in a while you may be able to see a slightly bigger notch, that I think is the “350, 450, etc” and the smaller ones are for “325, 375, etc. So all you need to do is basically subtract from broil, which is 500 and figure out which notch you need and turn the knob backwards. Oh and also remember on the stove, the far LEFT burner does not work, ok? so if you need to use the stove DO NOT USE THE BACK LEFT BURNER. And you know the timer doesn’t work right? Dad and I have a little timer on the stove but I don’t know maybe you kids use your phone or something.
Kid on other end of phone: [Just silent the whole time and worried about accidentally blowing the whole place up making a wrong move on the old oven]

Imagine trying to follow these instructions after a few alcoholic beverages.

As I sat there in our freezing cold cottage on that rainy cold day, wishing the old oven still worked (No matter how defective she was) I started thinking back to the summer and how it didn’t seem like that long ago that we were all in this cottage in the middle of July, cranking the AC units because it was way too hot. I thought, Wow! Where did the summer go?! It seemed like just yesterday we were all together for our annual “Family Week” at Dewey Lake. Each year we pick a week during the summer to all be together and every year, even though it’s very hectic and there is never enough space for everyone, it’s always a blast. This family week I decided to keep a journal of the week’s events. So, sit tight for this flashback to the warm month of July:

In typical fashion, all 17 of us were going up at different times. Our “Family Week” technically started on Sunday, and some went up then, but I hitched a ride with my older sister and her three kids since Old Man Montag (my husband Mike) had to work and wouldn’t be able to join until later in the week. Being a classic insomniac, I had been up since the day before and was just waiting for my older sister to pick me up in her luxurious Honda Mini Van with 16 cup holders. My sister Bridget was already in Michigan with my parents and she texted me to see when we were leaving and discuss who was coming up when:

Once Maggie and her three children arrived, we hit the road to start our vacation. I stopped and had gotten her kids donuts and put on my Spotify playlist I made for them, which I titled “Michael and Ciara’s Jams” (Once my niece Bridie is old enough to talk she can be added). The playlist basically consisted of theme songs including “Paw Patrol,” “Mickey and the Roadster Racers, and other 20 second show theme songs. AWW YEAH, cool Aunt Kath had arrived and was riding shotgun on this road trip. The kids picked the songs themselves but they also threw some curve balls in there with Ciara adding “Do Wa Diddy” and Michael wanting “We will Rock You” by Queen. The whole playlist had about ten songs, and when most of them are 20 second kid show songs, it gets old pretty quickly on a two hour ride. During the ride my niece and nephew pointed out every truck, piece of construction equipment, and jeep they saw on the highway. They kept claiming that they saw it first but many times I would see the trucks and jeeps first having a great view of everything in the front seat. I had to call them out on their lies and put them in their place multiple times. Little Bridie decided she’d rather scream/cry the entire time instead of play the game with us.

The Honey Nut Cheerios can pick songs for our next road trip playlist because they were the quietest on the ride.
I felt like I was at a five star resort having access to TWO mini vans whenever I please.

Once we unpacked everything I did a quick stop in the bathroom to dab the blood coming from my ears from all the noise of the car ride and then it was time to be in vacation mode. We gathered our drinks and went on a chaotic pontoon boat ride with all six of the grandkids. Lucky for everyone on board there is a portable kids’ toilet on the boat so the kids all wanted to use it…so that was fun for the rest of us…Who doesn’t love a sunset bathroom ride on the water?! Once we got in we all called it an early night.

The next morning my nieces and nephews and I did slow motion/fast motion running videos for a while, so that kept us all entertained for a good chunk of the morning:

We had some fun in the sun (Well, some of us did, my dad and I have no tolerance for the sun) and then once the kids went to bed (my brother, older sister and their families were staying at a different cottage just down the road-not enough beds these days at the Kelly Cottage!) I did some “tech work” for my parents, because “Tech Girl” never gets a full vacation. My parents had recently gotten rid of cable since they have streaming services, but because they like to watch the news and regular TV I ordered them a digital antenna that I so kindly said I would set up. (Yes, I continue to be THE GLUE that holds our family together) Now, our cottage is basically one room, with one TV so it’s important that it be in full working order for everyone. Once it gets dark out and the mosquitos come out, we are kind of all stuck inside with not much to do. The TV and our phones are usually our only source of entertainment for the night because we are not and will never be a “board game family” and being all together we usually have to all decide on what we are going to watch. So I set up the digital antenna and then did some other “Tech” things for Mike Sr. and Mo Money. Once I was done WORKING ON MY VACATION WHILE EVERYONE ELSE SAT THERE ON THEIR PHONES I somehow found the energy to then show Mike and Mo how to use the TV with the changes I had made. After all my efforts, this is what happened:

Mom: Oh thank you so much sweetie! What would we do without our Tech Girl?
Me: Yeah no problem. So do you guys want to watch something now? We could look for a movie on Netflix or something to all watch?
Mom: Oh yea, that sounds great honey, but actually before you got up here Bridget, Dad and I were in the middle of watching this docuseries on Netflix, you’d probably like it actually! It’s called “Sophie” and it’s about a murder in Ireland? It’s really interesting!
Me: Um yea, Mom, remember I’m the one who recommended that docuseries to you? Because I’ve watched it already. Remember I told you Mike and I watched it and I thought you might like it so I went over that one day and showed you at home how to watch it on Netflix?
Mom: Oh, Oh! Sweetie that’s right, you’re right! (She said gingerly grabbing my arm as the memory came back to her.)
(Silence ensued as we both kind of look at each other)
Mom: Well I think we are on the third episode! Maybe you could set that up for us and we can all watch that together! What do you think? Wouldn’t that be fun?!
Me: Fun for me? To watch for a second time a docuseries about a horrific murder and joining you guys in the middle of the series? Mom I like a good murder show but I don’t want to watch it again, I am not a psychopath.
Mom: Well… Bridget is leaving on Thursday so we kind of want to finish it.
Me: Ok… Welp, I guess now that you’re done with my services, I’ll set it up for you and get out of your way here and just lay in my bunk bed and stare at the top bunk since I don’t do enough of that already having insomnia and all.
Mom: Awwwww thank you sweetie! (As she pulls me in to kiss my forehead as I set up Netflix for her). You are so sweet!!!
Me: Yea no worries at all, it’s only 8:30pm, I’ll head to my bunk bed over here and ‘retire to my chambers’ for the night, [I said dramatically as I walked the two feet to my bed and grabbed the curtain to pull shut since I didn’t have a door to slam] no biggie.

So, in typical baby boomer fashion, once they were done with my services, they shoved me aside and I just laid in my bunk bed, which is about ten feet from the TV, while the family enjoyed their evening.

Most times when I wake up early I can hang out outside but on this day it was raining so I just sat there for hours, alone with my thoughts while my family was off in dreamland.

The next morning, my sister Bridget, sister-in-law Alyssa and I decided to take the kids on what we called a “Nature Walk” down the beach. We saw a lot of interesting things, saw some fish, lots of boats, but the highlight for the little kids turned out to be seeing an old cookie on the beach. My nephew Connor actually requested to go back and see the cookie again. It was a half-eaten Nutter Butter for all who are curious.

Mother Earth-I mean, Aunt B (Bridget goes by “Aunt B”) and all the Nature Walkers.

After that the little kids obviously worked up an appetite and were requesting a snack. So we got back and they binge ate Doritos. I’ve never seen children attack food more than my nieces and nephews attack those chips.

Once we waited the proper half hour it was time for a swim. During our family week, everyone shares different items, including beach towels but you really have to watch out because my brother Michael has a tendency to take any towel and use it as “The diaper changing towel” for any of his children, and then casually throw it back in the mix for anyone to accidentally use. Nothing quite as refreshing as going for a swim in the lake and then drying off only to realize you smell like urine because you had mistakenly grabbed one of “the changing towels.”

Everyone is pretty good at sharing but sometimes my little nephew Michael likes to call people out for using his things. On this particular day my sister-in-law, Alyssa, grabbed a “Conroy towel” and little Michael Conroy, watching everyone and everything like a hawk, decided to call her out, “Mom!” He yelled, “Aunt Alyssa is using our towel!” Coming to my sister-in-law’s defense, I said back, “Well, if we are calling people today out,” Looking directly at my nephew, “Maggie! (Michael’s Mom) Michael Conroy was in my bed again and messed everything up!”

You see, the thing about being up at our place is that you have to be ok with constantly getting your personal items trampled on and rummaged through by the little kids. Do you have nice things? Well you won’t come home from family week with them. My nieces and nephews particularly love to just tear through other peoples’ beds, do gymnastics competition on them, and sometimes leave little “surprises” for us for when we climb into our beds. Many times when I’m at Dewey Lake I’ll climb into my bed and discover some rocks, a little plastic doll, a truck or sometimes even some Teddy Grahams or raisins in my bed. They are so sweet, always are looking out for me, making sure I have enough to eat.

That’s my bed I need to sleep in all week but all good.
Connor taking a “fake nap” in Aunt Jane’s bed. The kids for some reason love taking “fake naps” in other people’s beds but never want to take real naps in their own beds.
Apparently Michael is taking a real nap here but I still think he’s “fake” napping. That’s what happens when you fake something so many times. No one believe you when the real thing comes along. Just like the boy who cried wolf.

Usually up at our cottage, in addition to rummaging through your items, these little gremlins will just walk right in on you in the bathroom. Being an old house, the bathroom door does not have a lock so there is nothing more terrifying than when you are in the shower and you hear tiny pounding footsteps racing right towards the bathroom and a tiny voice yelling “I HAVE TO GO POTTY!!!” You try and stop them yelling “NOOOOOOO!!!! AUNT KATH IS IN THE SHOWER!!!” But usually at that point there is nothing you can do, they have already torn the door open and they are sitting on that toilet and you just pray that that niece or nephew is just… you know… respectful in whatever business they are doing as you try and enjoy your shower. I told my six nieces and nephews after getting out of the shower one day that I was going to give them all a lesson on knocking but before I could Mike Sr. made a trip to the hardware store and installed a lock on the door! We all named him the Real MVP of the week and his humble response was “I have to protect my daughters from these ‘savages’ (referring to his grandchildren).”

Little Michael (one of the savages) helps Grandpa install the lock on the bathroom door.

Later that evening we went on another boat ride through the “Dewey Lake Channel.” Since the channel is filled with turtles and other lake wild life, on this ride my brother-in-law, Mike and I made an important declaration to the other adults on the boat, that we do not care for them to point out turtles to us. You see, at Dewey Lake, turtles pop up like squirrels but for some reason my adult family members still act like seeing one is like seeing a celebrity.

Person Seeing Turtle: “OH MY GOD LOOK IT’S A TURTLE! I WILL NOT STOP POINTING AND SHOUTING AND MAKING A SCENE ON THE BOAT UNTIL EVERYONE GETS UP AND LOOKS AT THIS TURTLE I AM SEEING POP UP OUT OF THE WATER! OH WAIT IT JUST WENT UNDER SORRY EVERYONE BUT YOU GUYS SHOULD HAVE SEEN IT! IT WAS HUGE!”

Every single time everyone will have to get up from where they are seated or crank their neck in an uncomfortable position and see NOTHING because the turtle that was “spotted” mysteriously went under the water again. I do not like doing this because many times I am under a blanket or some sort of towel covering me for warmth and then it falls to the floor when I get up and I also can’t turn my neck very far. I also think seeing a turtle in the water is much like seeing a stick in the water because many times when they pop up you can only see their heads and that is what they looked like. So, giving these reasons, upon entering the channel, I just politely wanted to make my family aware that while I appreciate and admire the excitement they have about turtles, I do not share in it, so I will be staying in my seat and not making any effort to turn my neck or body in order to see any turtles. But I did ask them to please let me know about any other wildlife as I would be interested in making the effort to turn my neck to see those. My brother-in-law Mike, had a slightly different approach, simply stating that he just ‘did not care about turtles that much.’ Once my family got over the shock of Mike saying he didn’t care about turtles, we entered into the channel. We saw a lot of turtles and wildlife including a beaver. After that my nephew Connor would not stop saying the word “Beaver Dam.” It was almost as if it was his new vocab word for the day and he was trying to incorporate it in every sentence he spoke.

Connor talking to his Dad about Beaver Dams.
Binge eating Doritos and other snacks.

Once we docked everyone CONVENIENTLY have places to run off to leaving my younger sister Jane and me to be the only ones to tarp the pontoon boat. If you’ve never tarped a boat, it’s awful. You can never really figure out which way the tarp fits on the boat, the buttons never snap, there are massive spiders everywhere, and then once you’re done someone has to crawl underneath to put the poles in. While tarping, Jane and I got in an extremely heated argument about which one of us was the bigger ‘Martyr’ in the family because Jane ended up having to be the one to crawl in and put in the poles. I wish I was kidding about this fight but I am not. I’m sure people across the lake could hear us yelling at each other

Jane: WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE MARTYR OF THIS FAMILY??! I WAS HARDLY ON THIS BOAT AND NOW I HAVE TO PUT THE POLES IN?!
Me: OH! YOU THINK YOU ARE THE MARTYR? I AM THE MARTYR HERE! DID YOU FORGOT HOW I GAVE YOU THE ROOM AND THE BIG BED THIS WEEK WHILE I SLEPT IN THE BUNK BEDS?!! THE BED THAT THE KIDS USE AS A JUNGLE GYM AND STOMP ALL OVER AND LEAVE DEBRIS IN?! THERE WERE LEAVES IN MY BED LAST NIGHT!! MY ROOM HERE IS A PLAYGROUND! AND YESTERDAY THEY TRIED TO USE ME AS A JUNGLE GYM AND YOU KNOW AUNT KATH IS NOT A JUNGLE GYM SHE IS A CHINA DOLL. VERY DELICATE AND BREAKS EASILY!
Jane: (lowering her voice now) Oh no, no! Aunt Kath is so fragile they can’t play rough with her! Only Aunt Jane and Aunt B! They should know this by now!
Me: I KNOW! I told them exactly that!

So, Jane and I, as we always do, reconciled and concluded that we were even with our “Martyrom” (a new word we were using) and that the rest of our siblings OWED US.

These are the faces of Martyrs.

On Friday my Mom just SUDDENLY decided to instill a new rule that “Everyone must take off their shoes upon enter the cottage.” We were all outraged. “Mom!” I said just completely flabbergast. “You can’t just INSTILL a new rule on one of the LAST days of family week and expect us all to remember! We don’t even take our shoes off when we enter the house at home! How are we all supposed to remember this OUTLANDISH RULE when our minds are all on ‘vacation mode’? this is crazy!” Everyone agreed. Growing up we were never taught to take our shoes off when entering the house and now that her youngest child is 25 she tries to teach this to us now? This wasn’t going to stick. But we all tried because “Mom’s the boss” but mostly everyone forgot.

After that the kids took one last swim and then I helped them make a birdhouse out of a High Noon box because their Aunt B, Aunt Kath and Aunt Jane have no kids and were living their best life all week long so we had plenty around.

There was a fight about who got to hold the High Noon Bird House in the photo. I obviously lost. But we were having fun I SWEAR!

After that my brother and his family and my oldest sister and her family packed up to leave. This was honestly the longest goodbye of my life as we thought they were going to leave numerous times but then they’d remember something they forgot from inside, or one of the kids needed to use the bathroom again, then there was a mad search for “Uni” (my niece Ciara’s stuffed unicorn animal. She was safely found). My Mom was really sad too so she was making a big production of it having everyone watch them pull out of the driveway. You can really tell that my sister Maggie and brother Michael are her favorite children right now-I think it’s because they’ve given her grandchildren-but they are also her first born son and daughter, so me, Bridget and Jane knew we don’t really stand a chance. (Actually Jane’s the youngest so she’s got that going for her, but anyway). My Mom was making sure they had enough water, Diet Coke, snacks etc, basically acting like they were headed off on the Oregon Trails. You could tell she was sad and that she was going to miss her kids and grandkids being up at the lake with her. Not my dad though, I think he had the vacuum in one hand while he waved goodbye with the other-he could not wait to vacuum up all the crumbs, wiped down the Dorito hand prints from the boat and spray down the patio set. He had a full day of cleaning ahead and he was smiling ear to ear thinking about it. My Dad LOVES cleaning. Jane and I stayed for the goodbye sob fest for a while (Our sister Bridget had left Thursday for a concert so she was unable to join the goodbye tour) and then we decided to peace out as we were burning daylight and had more vacationing to do.

Once we finally said our goodbyes, the place was eerily quiet. no more little voices just the sound of my dad CONSTANTLY vacuuming. By this point in the week it was just my parents, Jane and me left at the old Kelly Cottage. Later that Friday afternoon, Old Man Montag aka my husband Mike (Not to be confused with all the other Mike’s in the family) Who was working like a dog the whole week was finally able to get off work and enjoy some much needed time at the lake!

Vacation Mode Old Man Montag.

The rest of the weekend was crazy busy for me as I decided to start this game where I would just randomly pop out at Jane and start blasting the hit Abba song “Waterloo.” She never knew when it was coming, and I would creep up on her at various hours of the day and night. As we all know, no one can make me laugh quite like I can so as you can imagine, my abs were pretty sore from laughing once the weekend was over. Below is a screen shot of a video I took when I creeped up on Jane while she was doing the dishes. I would usually sing along, because as we all know, ABBA is SO CATCHY!! How could you not?! So I thought I’d spare everyone’s ears from my singing and just post the screen grab.

That pretty much sums up Family Week 2021. My only regret is that I wish I spent more time with the old oven. I had no idea this was going to be her last Family Week with us. But overall I had a great time and I think the rest of the family did too. I think my niece Abby summed it up best the first time she came up to Dewey Lake. She had just learned to talk and could only use one word phrases to describe how she was feeling. (or so she claimed, some say she was just being lazy.) But the whole time little baby Abby was up at Dewey Lake she kept repeating the word “Happy.” I always leave Family Week feeling both extremely happy and grateful. Grateful for the chaos, grateful for this place we can all go and be together each year, grateful to Mike Sr. and Mo Money for working so hard to give us this little piece of heaven, and grateful for my awesome family. It was another fun Family week and an amazing, happy summer at Dewey Lake!

Mike Sr and Mo Money. We were able to get Mo to take her sunglasses off for this one. Her baby blues are sensitive, always have to let her shut her eyes and then give the “1,2,3 and open on three.”
Mike Sr. enjoy his view and blocking mine with this gigantic umbrella he uses to block the sun.
She could be a Gerber Baby Model am I right? Of course I’m talking about my mom here.
Bridie looking like she’s going to murder someone. Maybe she’s been watching murder documentaries on Netflix too…
Jane and Mo Money enjoying some coffee on the swing. Mo Money’s favorite spot.
You always have to be prepared to have a child handed to you at any moment during family week.
If Diet Coke could maybe sponsor next year’s Family Week that would be super helpful. Also Doritos please sponsor us too.
The savages attacking Grandpa.
No idea what the twins are doing here.
I asked Connor if we could switch hats but he said no.

Let’s play house

Last month marked one year since Mike and I bought our house, a beautiful, old fixer-upper that we absolutely love in a neighborhood that we always wanted to live in. Owning a home has definitely been an adventure, we’ve learned a lot-about home-ownership, ourselves, and each other, and we certainly have more learning to do. Luckily we signed a 30 year mortgage though so we’ve got time.

When we think back to where we were just over one year ago, our life was a lot different-Mike and I weren’t even engaged yet! I was still livin’ my best bachelorette life in my apartment with my two roommates, hitting up the bars on Western Ave which were just a stone’s throw away. I was rather busy with life as when we weren’t at the bars, me and my roommates had taken a deep dive into the classic show “One Tree Hill.” So every night, Chad Michael Murray was taking us on a roller coaster of emotions in the All-American town of Tree Hill. It was exhausting! Mike was still in his apartment in the city, preaching to everyone how he wouldn’t be back on the Southside for quite some time. CLASSIC, SILLY Mike! When we heard about the house that we now own being for sale, we looked at it “to be cute” not thinking we’d seriously consider buying it. After going through the house I remember we went out to dinner and ripped the house apart. But secretly I loved it. Old Man Montag secretly thought it would be great investment….And then somehow we found ourselves in the middle of buying a home.

The process of getting the home was stressful for both of us, but mostly for Mike. I was mostly pretty thrilled. But poor Old Man Montag was extremely stressed the entire time. Little did I know he had already bought an engagement ring and was planning to propose (to me thank goodness) in the coming weeks and now buying a house was thrown at him. Besides the whole proposal, Mike is a planner anyway, so the fact that he could not plan for this home-buying process really stressed him out. “I don’t know Kath,” I remember him saying to me one night when we were discussing the house “This just wasn’t part of the plan I had in my head. Plus I always imagined before we bought a house that I would have the chance to read some books on the home-buying process and do some more research before we became homeowners. I am just a bit stressed about this all!” “Ok,” I responded calmly. “First I’d like to address these books you mention you planned on reading about the home-buying process. Are you serious you dork? Did you actually plan on reading books before we bought a home? Where do these books exist? Do you own a library card or were you going to order them off Amazon or something? I have a lot of questions, but we can address those later.” We laughed (Well mostly I laughed) and then I continued, “Second, this may surprise you, but I always imagined myself doing NO research before we bought a house, much like my research of all things a do. So I am actually doing ok right now. But if you don’t feel comfortable about this I do not want us to do it.” Mike’s stressed level settled a bit when we really went through finances and costs and he was able to make an excel spreadsheet of everything. His spreadsheet included all that normally goes into a home: closing costs, fees, taxes, major repairs, etc. He also had a lawn mower on there, which was fine, we’d need a lawn mower, our house had a lawn, but he kept mentioning this lawn mower whenever we’d discuss the house. (much like he mentioned the garbage can when we talked about our Dewey Lake Wedding) We’d be discussing home buying expenses and utilities and then he’d say something like “And don’t forget, we’ll need to buy a lawn mower.” As if I could forget. “OK!” I finally said one day, “City boy Mike! I get it! We need a lawn mower! I know! We have grass! We will also need other expensive items that you don’t have on there! Like a new roof soon! Maybe put that one there instead! We will get you your precious lawn mower don’t worry. I’ll even wrap it under the Christmas tree for you with a bow if you want.” “I’m just thinking about the lawn and how it will need to be cut!” He responded. “I just don’t want you to forget about things like that. Those are expenses that add up.” “Whoa.” I replied quickly. “You think just because I have scrawny arms and I am weak that I can’t push a lawn mower and therefore I don’t think about it?!” “Well partly, yes.” Mike replied without hesitation. “Well!” I said back, “I will have you know that I had to cut the grass growing up! My parents made us girls do that yard work stuff too! AND I am a lot stronger than I seem! Those Propel caps are just on really tight and they hurt my wrists to open!” I also reminded Mike that he always needs me to open his Coors Light cans for him, but he claimed it was only because my nails are longer and he just can’t get his short nails under the tab to pop it open. Then we went off topic while I gave different examples of times I lifted heavy objects.

Ultimately though, after many spreadsheets and conversations, we made the decision together to purchase our forever home (Without any books) and it has been one that both of us are so glad we did! And we even had money left to get a lawn mower!

I was TRYING to be helpful and do yard work and prove how strong I was but both backfired on me. we eventually found the key though.

And, side note, despite all my bad jokes I made through the home-buying process Mike still decided to propose to me!

Mike locked in the girl of his dreams and a low interest rate on our home all in the same year. What a year for Mike am I right?!
My niece, Ciara, made us this housewarming gift after we closed on our house. She cut the roof-line totally wrong our roof looks nothing like that, and the brick color is completely off, but it was nice of her to not come over empty handed.

In this past year, we’ve settled into our house. We’re so settled in fact that we’ve already got our designated spots on the couch. Mine is near the space heater, next to my “drink tray” and close enough to the outlet where I can plug in my heating pad and snuggle up with about seven blankets because our home is freezing and I’m always cold. Mike’s spot is where ever I haven’t burrowed myself in yet. One of my favorite home purchases I treated myself to was my “couch drink tray.” Sure, we have a coffee table in front of the couch but I found it rather cumbersome always having to reach forward to grab my water, coffee, Diet Coke, propel and/or Body Armor. It’s just so jolting taking my arm out of my blanket, exposing it to the frigid air, just to take a sip of one of my 30 drinks I have next to me. (I am always thirsty, probably should get that check out but I’m busy with a house now so it’s at the bottom of my list) so I got myself a little tray that I could keep next to me on the couch at all times. Minimal reaching effort. Would highly recommend to any homeowner. Best investment I’ve made in a while!

As you can see I was unhappy, chilly AND thirsty being displaced from my normal spot.
Pictured here was a light day for the tray having to only hold a tea mug, Body Armor, water and the remote. Normally more drinks are on the couch tray.

In addition to our couch tray, Mike and I could not be more thrilled with our “Basement refrigerator” we just acquired. Like most homes in America, we have too many food and drink items for just one fridge to hold (Typical First-World Problems, ugh!) so we had to get a second fridge for all our alcohol, pop, and various other necessities. It has been a game changer! Has totally freed up so much space in our first floor kitchen fridge. We often wonder HOW we got through most of this first year without it. We both have agreed that the basement fridge is in the top ten best things to ever happen to us. We don’t have any children yet but once one comes along he or she has big shoes to fill because both of us have said we may love this fridge more than any of our future children.

Besides those major investments we’ve also made a lot of changes to our house and done a lot of different projects this past year. I don’t think we had closed on the house more than two minutes and suddenly tree killer Mike is hiring someone to chop down this big, beautiful old tree in our backyard because it was “too close to the house.” I liked the tree and didn’t want it cut down so I initially protested.”Ugh Mike do we really need to cut it down?? It is so old and pretty! I like the tree!” Mike shut me down immediately “The tree has got to go.” Heartless Mike replied, “The roots are going to ruin our foundation and I don’t want any branches falling on the roof.” I did eventually agreed but I did make a lot of jokes to him about how I was going to read the Tree the story of “The Giving Tree” before he murdered it but per usual Mike ignored my jokes. I laughed though. No one make me laugh quite like I do.

Another big project for us was the installation of a ceiling fan in our bedroom. I am not a fan of ceiling fans (pun intended). Mike loves them and really wanted one in our bedroom. I love the white noise of regular fans but HATE ceiling fans. Why? First, it’s just too breezy for me. I am always cold and if I wanted to experience some wind I’d go outside-which I would not do because I HATE WIND. I don’t want sleep in a wind tunnel, no thank you. Second, the breeze from the ceiling fan causes the little hairs on my head to tickle my face. This is rather annoying when you are laying in bed trying to sleep. Third, I’ve just had too many bad experiences with ceiling fans. I’m still traumatized from the ceiling fan at a place we used to rent every summer growing up. The clicking noise of that ceiling fan still haunts me today. I remember laying there in a sleeping bag on the floor, with about eight of my cousins, all of us shoved in this small bedroom, breaking every fire code in the state of Michigan with the amount of children we had staying in one rental home, just wide awake all night (as children with insomnia do lolzz) looking at that fan and listening to that clicking noise as everyone else just slept away. In my mind I was screaming “HOW DOES NO ONE ELSE HEAR THIS?!” If you told me five years ago that I’d agree to a ceiling fan in my bedroom I would have told you you’re crazy. I am more of a box fan person. It’s loud, you can direct the air where you need it to go, stick it in your window, it’s so versatile! But, when you love someone you make compromises, so I agreed to the ceiling fan. But I told Mike it had to be the most silent ceiling fan ever created and that the lights on the ceiling fan could not be too bright (I am very particular about lights-they hurt my baby green eyes… and give me migraines). So, after much research by Mike, we did find a ceiling fan that we both could agree on. And as a gift he got me a box fan for the white noise I needed. I was thrilled and had to text my old roommates right away about it:

Most of our other home projects this year have been painting. One thing Mike and I have learned about ourselves is that WE HATE PAINTING. And I know there are people out there that may say “Oh I kind of like painting, I find it rather calming!” No, you like it for about the first hour and you do not like all the prep work, clean up, or the numerous trips to the Home Depot paint section because there are TEN MILLION SHADES OF BLUE AND GRAY AND THE SAMPLE NEVER LOOKS THE SAME WHEN YOU PUT IT ON THE WALL. Please come talk to me once you’ve spent the past year of your life painting different rooms in your house. And not to brag but I am a good painter. I owe this to my father who is is rather meticulous about painting and passed along his children. Growing up my Dad was like a drill sergeant when it came to any painting around our house (Which us kids often helped with because Mike and Mo didn’t care about any child labor laws.) He passed along his OCD painting ways to his children and we are all good painters because of it. All of us except my sister Jane. My dad knew there was no helping Jane, she was just an awful painter. One summer when we were growing up my parents decided to completely renovate our basement. We’d all be down there painting the newly installed drywall, but my Dad did his best to keep Jane FAR FAR AWAY from any roller or brush. Every morning she’d come down in her painting clothes all ready to help paint like the rest of us, we’d all get assigned our job by my Dad and every single day my dad would say to Jane “Ahh you know what Jane? I kind of have a taste for some chocolate chip cookies. I bought some ‘break and bake’ Toll House ones from the store, would you mind making those for me?” What my Dad meant was really “Jane, you are a terrible painter and I don’t want you to mess up my new basement so I am going to assign you ‘busy work’ to keep you away from here.” Of course break and bake cookies do not take long to make so then she’d come back down and he’d have to keep her busy doing something else like “straightening up the pantry” or “going through the coupon drawer” (Not sure why we had this-we never used the coupons). He quickly ran out of “jobs that Jane couldn’t mess up” so he just kept buying different types of cookie dough from the store. We had so many break and bake chocolate chip cookies that summer.

As you can see my Dad is just delighted with all his new tools to work and put his children to work painting and doing yard work. Everyone except Jane that is. I’m surprised there was room for her in this photo since my Dad’s sixth child, the broom is in here.

Mike, I have found, is very similar to Jane in his painting skills. I love Mike to death and he has many great skills, but painting is not one of them. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. I’m a terrible dancer, Mike and I both know this and have accepted this. Mike is not the best painter, but he has a great attitude and has been working at it. I have been trying to teach him my ways too. “Mike! You are painting too fast! Paint is splattering everywhere!” I tried to tell him as we were painting our bedroom. “You have to go slower and be more gentle!” “Ahhh!” He yelled out in frustration “I just want to be done painting! That’s why I’m going so fast! I WANT TO BE DONE WITH THIS ROOM I HATE THIS!” Mike’s patience is tested when it comes to painting but he is getting better. I have sometimes found myself using my dad’s trick of trying to assign him ‘busy work’ when it comes to painting some rooms, but he really is becoming a better painter!

No matter how good or bad we are, we have come to realize that we were not meant to be painters. We hate it and always have to reward ourselves with alcohol after finishing a room.

Sent this SOS text to my brother, Michael, when he asked what we were doing over Memorial Day. He did not come save us.
Finished painting our bedroom just in time for our furniture delivery only to realize the furniture is rather tall for us. Whoops.
No one saved us.

One of our biggest projects so far has been our “Dateline Room” AKA our dining room. When we moved in the dining room had wallpaper, so we thought it would be an easy project to take it down and paint. We could not be more wrong. Turns our there was about four layers of wallpaper going back to about 1930. Once we got down to the final layer, the walls were crumbling and yellowed. The room looked like a murder had taken place there so we renamed the Dining Room “The Dateline Room” (One of our favorite shows.) After about six months of work and hiring someone to re-plaster the walls it finally looks like a dining room again!

So in summary, this year of home-ownership has been filled with a lot of painting, a lot of trips to Home Depot and Menards, but also a lot of fun. Maybe Mike doesn’t so much agree with me about the fun part, but he’s also done a lot more work on the house than I have, I’ve mostly given my opinion on things. (I think I’ve done a great job giving my opinion though). While we’ve learned that owning a home is a lot of work, and we still have a lot to continue to learn, it’s been a blast trying to figure it all out with my best friend Mike. I’m so grateful to have him on this new adventure. We both look forward to the many parties, Christmases, birthdays, etc. we will have in our forever home!

The day we closed on our house. Wish we got the tree in this one. RIP.
Hanging out in our Tree-less backyard. The lack of shade brings in more light and warmth though which I must say I do like.
Honestly could write an entire post about how much I love Menards-you just never know what you’ll find!

Five Blessings

The other day I was talking to my Mom about schools doing eLearning during this Quarantine and how hard it is on both teachers and parents. “UGH” My Mom said, “I could not IMAGINE trying to do eLearning with you kids. That would be an absolute NIGHTMARE!” Wow, I thought. A little rude, MOM, telling one of your children that your worst nightmare would be spending all day with them. I THOUGHT YOU SAID WE WERE YOUR FIVE BLESSINGS?! This is not the first time she’s said this since the quarantine started. We get it Mom, your five kids were lunatics.

After I was done taking in this insult, and pulling the knife out of my heart she so casually threw in there, I started to think about how hard it would be for my Mom to be with us ALL DAY. Then I stumbled upon a photo from Easter when I was a baby. Seeing this made me understand why this would be my mom’s nightmare:

IMG_7826

Four of the Five lunatics pictured here. You can see the desperation on my Mom’s face. “Hurry up and take the Picture, MIKE, so I can get away from these nutcases!” Let’s zoom in on my mom a little here:

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That poor, poor woman. This is the face of someone that is in dire need of an alcoholic drink. You can see she is trying to mentally detach from the chaos that this going on around her.

I don’t want to speak for all my siblings, but I’d say most of us weren’t the most studious kids around. After school we really had no interest in doing more school work. I was probably the worst offender on this. I hated sitting down to do school work and would do anything to get out of it. I had better things to do, like play outside or see how many suction cup hooks I could get to stay on my face as you can see from this photo here:

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“Mom! Look at how I can get these suction cups to stay on my face! Don’t I look like Frankenstein?” Was I off to a poetry reading or something next with that turtle neck I was wearing? Who knows.

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Working on my dunking skills here. 2004 Holy Redeemer 8th grade gold ball basketball champion right there. Ball was life back in the day.

I must say, the five of us were pretty creative in some of the things we would do. Our parents were late in the game in getting cable so we really had to entertain ourselves. One of our favorite things to do when we couldn’t play outside was rollerblade in our carpeted living room. Talk about a cardio workout! It was not easy to roll around on that carpet. This was an activity we could only do when my Dad was out of town-he didn’t really appreciate us rollerblading inside. My Mom didn’t really mind, she saw the carpeting as better padding when her clumsy children fell.

The four of us girls also used the living room as our stage to make music videos to our favorite NSYNC, Backstreet Boys or Britney Spears hits. We’d rehearse for a few hours and then give our parents the painstaking task of not only sitting through our show, but filming it for us so we could review it later in order to perfect our dance moves and play our dance in both slow and fast motion. (Jumping off the couch or a chair and doing a spin looked a lot cooler in slow motion). Classic youngest child Jane, having grow up watching MTV with her older siblings, chose, how should I put this, some pretty risque dance moves. She loved to replicate Britney Spears in her early “Baby One More Time” days. Jane even liked to take her show on the road, volunteering to perform at different graduation or family parties. My parents soon after put the kibosh on Jane watching MTV with her siblings.

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Here we see Jane practicing one of her more modest Britney Spears dances as I pretend to step on her. A fight later ensued.

Sadly, after we redid our living room, getting reupholstered furniture and replacing the rollerblading carpet with the “8 Million Dollar Carpet” as my Dad referred to it (and we now still call it, 20 years later), we could no longer roller blade in the living room. I still remember my dad’s lecture he gave us after our living room and dining room were redone. I think he just got the bill from the interior designer so his blood pressure was a little high and he was on edge. “Now listen!” My Dad said, as the five of us sat in the TV room. We could see the beads of sweat on his bald head and the panicked look in his eyes as he thought of all the money this new living room was costing him. “I don’t want ANY of you kids rollerblading in the living room anymore! We practically had to refinance the house after installing that 8 Million Dollar carpet Mom decided to pick out! And I don’t want ANY of you kids laying on the reupholstered couch in there either! The last thing I need is your dirty, greasy, gross bodies staining that fabric! Just stay out of the living room as much as possible!”

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The last known photo of us sitting on the couch before my parents used our college funds to redo the living room.

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The pre-upholstered couch days when we could sit in the living room. You can see the dirt and food on our clothing that we were passing on to that couch.

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Just playing in the living room with our new doll Jane. Jane provided a lot of entertainment for us when she was born. Jane learned from an early age to support her own head. We weren’t going to do  it for her.

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We were all very photogenic.

 

 

If we weren’t rollerblading we were using our parents bed as a trampoline. We had a nice system going where we would line up in my parent’s closet (in order to get a running start) and use the closet doorway to hold onto, lean back and catapult ourselves onto the bed, doing our best flips and somersaults mid-air. Why enroll in gymnastics class when you have a queen sized bed you can just run and jump on? Honestly can’t believe the Jesse White Tumblers didn’t recruit us, we were so good.

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Taking a break from our gymnastics to fake read on my parent’s bed/pose for a Christmas card photo. Check me out-baby genius right there fake reading a story to everyone.

After we tired ourselves out a bit we would all get out our backpacks and sit at the kitchen table to do a little homework. It was a little crammed, and fights would break out if you accidentally got your papers into someone else’s “area” but it was fun all being together, jamming out to some music as we worked away. My mom would be in the kitchen with us, getting dinner prepped and checking on us periodically, helping with various homework problems. As the years went on, and my Mom cared less and less, (both about our homework and dinner) the younger kids relied on the older kids to help them out with homework. This system worked pretty good until we got down to Jane. We were all pretty tired by the time Jane needed help on homework. She racked up quite a few pink slips for “not turning in homework.” Sorry Jane! She turned out ok though.

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A rare photo of me doing homework. Drinking a Hi-C Juice Box to help take the edge off that stressful Math homework.

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What a great looking family.

After homework and dinner we focused our attention on dessert. We NEVER let our parents forget about giving us some sort of dessert every night. If you acted up or didn’t do your chores my parents used “no dessert” as a punishment. Unfortunately for me, being born a “smart-ass” as my parents so affectionately termed me, I spent a lot of nights going without dessert because of my wisecracks and sarcastic remarks. My mouth got me in a lot of trouble. I just couldn’t help myself in getting the last word in. So many times instead of having dessert, I would be laying on the kitchen floor crying as my siblings sat at the table eating ice cream or cookies.

Some nights when the dessert supply was running low my Dad would “raffle off” the last cookie or scoop of ice cream, whatever it may have been. There would be a series of coin tosses between the five of us and the winner would get the dessert. Some times it would be a real nail biter on who would be the last person standing. Many times this caused a lot of fights, usually some tears, but it was very entertaining for my Dad.We were just reminiscing about it the other day and my Dad was laughing hysterically thinking about it:

Dad (laughing so hard tears were in his eyes): “I remember you five little brats would be like vultures all wanting the last Oreo. Certain kids (I’m not going to name any names) would be sore losers if they lost and go off crying after the last coin toss. [Dad continues laughing more] Ahh that was good.”
Me: “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been so cheap and just bought another pack of Oreos for us instead of starving your five children!”

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Here we are post Oreo raffle. As you can see from the Oreo remnants on my face, I was the winner of this raffle so I was very smitten.

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Looks like I won the Oreo, but lost my shoe on this time. I think I won dessert a few too many times as a toddler. It was my fat stage.

After us fatties got our fill of food, we finally settled down to go to bed. For some reason we found it soothing to fall asleep to various Disney movie soundtracks. Our favorite being “The Lion King.” Because what’s more relaxing than loud African music blasting in your bedroom-AHHHHHH ZENWENNAAAA BADA DEE SEE BABA (I have no idea what the actual African lyrics are to the opening of The Lion King but it sounded like that.) So we made our parents tuck us in and start the Lion King tape before they turned off the lights. Since I hated going to bed (I could never fall asleep) I would always try and delay my parents turning off the lights, asking various dumb questions to stop them. My parents favorite one of my questions that they still laugh about to this day is the time I asked them “What bones are made of.” Classic insomniac, doing anything to stop bedtime. Once we were finally all asleep, our parents finally got a much deserved and much needed break from us.

Looking back on all of this I have so much respect for my parents putting up with us every day. Sure, we were five blessings, but we were also five nutcases. Now I get why my Mom said she can’t imagine what parents are going through during this quarantine, and I can’t either. This quarantine has really made me appreciate not only my parents but all parents dealing with their own “blessings” at home. All I can say to parents out there is hang in there, be strong, and maybe buy an extra pack of Oreos.

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I’m literally climbing a mountain running away and my Mom and Dad (the one taking this picture) couldn’t care less.

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Looks like we were running out of furniture we were allowed to sit on so we had to share.

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I wonder if my Dad thought about leaving us in that forest

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Bridget and me playing with our real life doll Jane again. That was a damn good sucker and I enjoyed it very much.

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Why did I button my top button like a psychopath?

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Hood up, attitude out. I had no time for pictures.

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It’s Good To See Your Smiling Face

img_9639.jpgA few weeks ago I stopped at my parents house after work to help my Mom with some tech issues she had been having. For months she had been telling us that she needed to get a new iPhone because ‘an annoying message kept popping up saying her storage was full and she didn’t know how to get rid of it.’ Well, I highly doubted she actually needed a new phone so I told her I would stop by the house and take a look at it. Plus, I was getting tired of her using the “my storage is full” excuse when she wanted to take a picture at family gatherings. “Ok kids, I want to get a picture after dinner but my storage is full on my phone so it can’t be done on mine. Kathleen, can we do it on yours? You brought the selfie stick right?” She’d always say. (Talk about a lame excuse, am I right? Classic Mo Money) For some reason my Mom just assumes I carry a selfie stick with me at all times. I think I’m beginning to get arthritis in my arm from constantly having to be the one to hold the selfie stick in our family group photos. I needed to fix her phone so other people in the family could start holding the selfie stick. That thing is heavier than it looks.

So, after I finished fixing the sound on her laptop, I moved on to her phone. It only took me about 2 seconds to realize why her storage was full-She had about 3,000 photos on her phone. You may think since she has five children and five grandchildren that these would be all family photos, but no. My Mom had thousands of the most random and useless photos on her phone that should have been deleted years ago. Some of the pictures I came across were:

  • a picture of a light bulb
  • a picture of a Carson’s 20% off coupon
  • a photo burst of a church bulletin
  • A blurry picture of a PowerPoint slide on her computer screen
  • Numerous photos of what looked to be a Poison Ivy rash on my Dad’s arm
  • A video of a faucet at Home Depot (I think she meant to take a picture but accidentally took a video instead.)

Here are some other Kodak moments she captured on her phone:

After telling my mom what the issue was, she agreed to let me go through and delete what I thought were dumb photos. I began doing this and stumbled upon some very strange photos. “Mom!” I yelled to her from the kitchen as I sat at the table deleting photos for her “Why the heck do you have a photo of a dead bird on your phone?!” What kind of sick person has a photo of a dead animal on their phone? I began to question if I really new this mom of mine that I though was so sweet. “Oh hold on sweetie let me see that photo.” She paused the murder show she was watching in the TV room to come take a closer look with her reading glasses. “Oh THAT bird!” she said excitedly. “Yea, look at how interesting that bird’s beak is! I’ve never seen a bird like that! I keep meaning to text it to my college roommate to see if she might know what type of bird it is! She really knows her birds. Don’t delete that one yet please.” “Mom,” I replied with a laugh. “You took this photo in 2014! That was five years ago! Do you really plan on still sending it to your friend at this point?!”

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The disturbing bird crime scene photo my Mom has on her phone.

Well, the dead bird photo was classified as a ‘do not delete’ photo so it stayed on her phone and I’m sure my mom still has yet to send it to her friend. But, I was able to delete some photos to give her some room on her phone and she was very grateful that her ‘little tech girl’ (as she likes to call me when she’s not calling me a ‘little smart ass’) came over to help her once again.

Even though I moved out of my parents house almost a year ago, it really doesn’t feel like it all that much because I find myself over at Mike and Mo’s Old Maid Boarding House quite often. In fact, I don’t think my dog Duke has even realized yet that I actually don’t live there anymore. But my old roommates and I have a good system going now since I moved out. I come home and provide them with IT services, humorous & sarcastic comments (As I’m sure they miss having their “Little Smart Ass” living with them full time), and they provide me with food (They really love feeding me which I appreciate because it saves me trips to the grocery store), Diet Coke and their interesting stories.

Just the other day my Dad was telling us how he had to break up a “cat fight” early one morning. We were all on the edge of our seats as he told the story. He literally broke up a fight between two cats that were hissing at each other. I was so glad no one was hurt in the scuffle. Talk about scary stuff. You never know what these pet parents are teaching their pets these days. Then my mom topped his exciting story with her own story about how she went shopping before Father’s Day to get water shoes for my dad but accidentally ended up buying water shoes for herself instead. Major plot twist!! Did not see that one coming.

Besides sharing stories, we also have some great conversations too. The other day when they were feeding me dinner we had a riveting conversation about one of my dad’s favorite shows, Ice Road Truckers:

Dad: Kathleen, want to watch Ice Road Truckers with me after dinner?
Me: Absolutely not. I have no desire to watch that boring old man show with you.
Dad: Oh come on it will be fun!
Mom: I thought that show was canceled?
Dad: I have some recorded from previous seasons.
Mom: What’s the guy’s name on that show that has all the kids?
Dad: The guy with the 12 kids? Ahhh… Hmmmm… Oh Hell what’s his name?!
[Several minutes go by as we anxiously wait for my dad to tell us the name]
Mom: That’s ok if you can’t think of it. I was just wondering.
Me: And I really never cared what his name was in the first place, so don’t hurt yourself trying to think of it.
Dad: No, hold on, it’s really going to bug me if I don’t think of it!
Mom: You could tell me his name was… Josh or something and I’d believe you, I don’t know any of the characters on that show.
Dad: ALEX! Ahhh yes! I remembered it! Alex is his name! He’s a Catholic too.

Other hot topics these days have included the new toaster they just got (Mike Sr. thinks it’s too fat and takes up too much room on the counter), the new washing machine (Mo Money HATES the new washing machine-it’s too loud) and the Shred and Electronics Recycling Day our town was having. There is nothing Mike Sr. and Mo Money love more than shredding and recycling old electronics. I was worried with this day coming up that I’d get flooded with calls from my parents asking my advice on whether or not it was ok to get rid of various cords they had been holding on to since the early 90s or computer games that only work with a Gateway 2000 desktop computer, but surprisingly they didn’t have too many questions for me.
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When a family member needs your help eating cheeseburgers you have to be there. No questions asked. Family comes first.

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No matter what we talk about or do when I go over to my parents’ house we usually have lots of laughs. We’ve come a long way since when I first moved out and was getting accused of taking fans from the house (my family is very particular about our fans) or being pestered about going through my mail or going through my coats in the coat closet. Now my parents seem to really enjoy having me stop by. I’m not sure if this is because I finally returned the coolers I borrowed from them or if they really are starting to enjoy my company.

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In my defense, when it was agreed that I could borrow the coolers for my party, we never agreed on a time frame of how long I could use them for.

After any visit, whether I was over for dinner, helping them scan something, fixing the TV, or just stopping in for an afternoon Diet Coke, as I’m leaving my parents tell me to text them when I get back to my apartment so they know I got back safe and sound (even though I only live about a mile away). Each time I text them that I got back to my apartment they tell me “We always love seeing your smiling face.” Mom and Dad, I always love to see your smiling faces too.

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Mo’s emoji game is on point.

 

And Holy Is My Name

Last weekend, Mike Sr, Mo Money, myself and my two other old maid sisters were vacationing in Michigan, sitting by the lake and sipping our morning coffee soaking up the view, when all of a sudden Mo ripped us from dreamland by saying, “Well, we better get going to get ready for Mass or we’ll be late!” My two sisters and I all painfully looked at each other and gave a collective sigh before we immediately started whining like four year-olds. “Noooooooo! Come on Mom, don’t we get vacationers dispensation?” I asked. “Plus the priest here just loves to talk! He makes the mass so long!” “Well, Dad and I are definitely going, you girls don’t have to go if you don’t want to…” My Mom said. We started to relax back in our lawn chairs. Just as my Mom was walking in the house to begin getting ready for church, her hand on the door knob, she turned back at us and hit us with her classic zinger, “But, you know, we have a lot to be thankful for…” Then she headed inside. Boom. Mo Money with the mic drop. There it was, the guilt bomb. The judging eyes. The look that said “Fine don’t go but I hope you bring a magazine with you to help pass all the time you’ll spend in Purgatory when your time comes.” There is nothing worse than getting guilt tripped by your Mother. Saint Peter’s judgement at the gates of Heaven is NOTHING compared to judgement from a Mom. Gosh darn it, Mom! Why did we have to be so fortunate and blessed and raised in such a loving home! Why couldn’t you have neglected us so we didn’t have all these wonderful things to be thankful for?! Sheesh!

So, like the good children and Catholics we are, we changed out of our pajamas and headed to church. Just as we anticipated, the priest talked for way too long and the mass was OVER AN HOUR. Doesn’t he know we Catholics have a strict time limit on the length of masses? The mass seemed extra long because we weren’t near any babies so entertainment was lacking. But, it was an outdoor mass so we did have some nice landscaping to look at. Plus, the biggest moth I have ever seen in my life was on one of the chairs behind us, and we got in a family disagreement about whether it was a real moth or a fake moth, so that argument made time go by rather quickly (It was real, but he made no attempt to shake our hand at the handshake of peace so he was a real rude moth if you ask me).

Once mass was over, like most Catholics, we got in the car and ripped the mass apart while driving home.

Mom: I mean his homily had a good message but sheesh! Did he need to keep repeating himself over and over?! It’s like, ‘Get the hook out!’ Am I right?
Me: Why can’t we ever say a simple, ‘Lord hear our prayer’ at the petitions?! Why does it always have to be something super long like “Please respond, ‘Infant baby Jesus, creator of all things, son of God, blessed, peaceful most high’ hear our prayer.”
Dad: I hate when they sing the “Glory to God” song in such a depressing tone. Can’t they make a more upbeat version of it?!
Bridget: That was ridiculous, that priest talked for way too long. Also, did anyone see that lady sitting a few rows in front of us still had the tag on her shirt? I was debating in my head whether or not I should tell her.
Jane: I still don’t think that was a moth, that thing was way too big. I think it was a cross breed of some sort of other insect.

Although the mass was a little long, we were glad we went. Mothers are always right. And my Mom was definitely correct in saying that we as a family have a lot to be thankful for. My parents instilled this in us from a young age. They supported these values by sending us to Catholic school and teaching us the importance of attending church weekly. Growing up, we always went to mass together as a family. The seven of us jammed in one pew always created a lot of excitement. Fights between us siblings would usually occur, causing my parents to strategically sit between certain siblings, using themselves as human shields when fights broke out. A lot of fights happened during the Palm Sunday Mass when we would take a palm and slowly try to stick it in the other person’s ear while they weren’t looking. This would especially make my Dad mad because I’m pretty sure Palm Sunday mass is his favorite mass of all time and we were distracting him. He loves being able to play a role in the gospel and he really gets into character. So much so that we usually have to tell him to tone it down a little as he yells very loudly over everyone else in church, “BARABBAS, BARABBAS! FREE BARABBAS!” or “CRUCIFY HIM!” He was never able to join the drama club in high school so I think he feels this is his time to shine. While our Dad always looked forward to Palm Sunday mass, for the rest of us, it caused a lot of anxiety, at least for the first half of the mass, as we were all wondering if the priest would let us sit or make us stand for the extra long gospel. You never forget those Palm Sunday masses where you had to stand the entire gospel.

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As you can see, Jesus and I grew up together.

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Looking sharp in our uniforms. The real sin here is Bridget wearing that hemp sea shell necklace.

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Did Mo Money send us to Catholic school because of the great education we would receive or because she knew we would have to wear uniforms and she wouldn’t have to do as many loads of laundry?

During crowded Christmas and Easter masses, it was not uncommon for one of us kids to faint. I still remember standing during the “Our Father” prayer and turning to see my sister Maggie looking white as a ghost, (More white than her usual pale complexion) and then hearing my Dad whisper yell to my brother from the other end of the pew “MICHAEL! CATCH MAGGIE! SHE’S GOING TO FAINT!” Unfortunately Michael didn’t realize what my Dad was telling him in time and Maggie made some weird noise and then hit that church floor pretty hard. The rest of us weren’t really phased by seeing my Dad help her up from the floor and take her to the back of church to sit outside for a bit because honestly, Maggie could get a paper cut and she’d faint. But the rest of the congregation seemed a little horrified.  “Oh she’s totally fine,” We nonchalantly told the extremely concerned strangers who were staring. “She does this all the time. A little fresh air and she’ll be back in time for communion.”

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Not sure why Maggie found it necessary to bring that purple sack of potatoes she’s holding with her to Easter Mass.

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After she celebrated Holy Saturday a little too much, we placed bets on when Jane was going to start to feel “a little faint” at this Easter Sunday Mass.

As we got older, and after we made our First Holy Communions, our parents trusted us to go to mass without them, which we did. Reflecting on it now, my parents are actually pretty lucky we all kept the faith after my mom made the four of us girls all wear THE SAME communion dress at our First Holy Communion. Talk about a fashion faux pas! Puffy sleeves may have been in style when my oldest sister made her communion but by the time I made mine, puffy sleeves were totally out of style. It was definitely a cross to bear. Despite having to wear an out of style dress from the early 90s, my First Communion was still “the best day of my life” apparently: 

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Spelling has never been a strong skill for me.

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Our communion photos hanging in our upstairs hallway so guests can vote on “who wore it best.” Vote for me please.

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Jane trying to choke me after I told her she would have to wear the puffy sleeved communion dress too. Also, guarantee after my mom reads this blog she’ll say to me “I loved that communion dress! I thought it was really cute on ALL you girls!”

When we did go to mass on our own, we were always sure to grab a church bulletin as proof to Mike and Mo that we actually attended. A church bulletin is basically a receipt to the mass. We all knew that without our receipt our parents would start asking lots of questions about the readings to test us and see if we actually attended. We NEVER left mass without a bulletin.

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Passing down all my wisdom to my nieces and nephews: “Auntie Kath’s Life Lessons.” Look for it on the Best Sellers List soon.

So, although sometimes masses can be a little long, my siblings and I have all continued to go as adults. Because our Mom is right, we have a whole lot to be thankful for. We are very blessed and lucky.  And Mom is always right…right Dad?

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Even dressed as an angel my mom still found a way to put me in a turtle neck. Mo is a huge fan of the turtle neck look.

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Jane and I resting easy knowing we’ll get into Heaven.

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Our dog was never baptized and never went to Catholic School so you can see the worry and panic in his eyes in this photo, wondering if the “All Dogs Go To Heaven” rule still applies to him.

 

 

 

Stuff My Dad Says

IMG_1976My Dad is a very funny guy. Not as funny as me of course, but I’ll give him some credit. One of the many things I love about my Dad is that you never know what is going to come out of his mouth. This keeps things very interesting and it keeps everyone laughing in our family.

A while back, my younger sister Jane and I were eating dinner with my parents, just having a nice conversation (we were probably talking about Tupperware to be honest, that seems to be dominating our conversations lately) when all of a sudden my Dad turns to my sister and me and says in a very stern voice, “Now listen! I don’t want any of you kids playing with those Ouija Boards! From what I hear they are just a channel for evil spirits!” It was silent for a minute as Jane and I looked at each other and tried to process what he just said. Then we burst out laughing.

I had noticed when going through our DVR that someone in the house kept recording shows such as Ghost Hunters, My Ghost Story and A Haunting. Clearly my father was the one recording these shows. I guess have to be better about setting the parental controls to make sure he’s not watching television shows that are obviously too scary for him.  “Well, that was random and has nothing to do with what we were talking about,” I said. “Just don’t play with them!” he said. “I hear they are only portals to these evils spirits!” “Dad, we are 27 and 23 years old, do you really think we are going out playing with Ouija boards with our friends?” I said. “Hell! I don’t know what you girls do when you go out on the weekends!” He responded.  I began to laugh again saying, “Believe me Dad, when we tell you we’re going out binge drinking with our friends at the bars, we’re telling you the truth. We’re just big boozers, not ghost hunters, so you have nothing to worry about.” “Well, I just found Mom had a Ouija Board when she was little!” He said. I was laughing uncontrollably now but manged to say, “Would that have been a deal breaker for you? If you knew when you were dating her that she had a Ouija board in 3rd grade, do you think you still would have popped the question?” For a minute he looked like he was really thinking hard about the answer to that question. Finally he said he probably would have still married her but made sure to have “a priest come in or something to get rid of any spirits that might have latched on to her.”

When my Dad is not talking about Ouija boards he’s usually making fun of me. The other day I stopped at my parents after work and had a backpack on with my work laptop in it. My Dad immediately commented on this as soon as I walked in the door. “What are you doing with that backpack on?! You already look like a 12 year old, that backpack does not help your case.” “EXCUSE ME, DAD!” I responded, “But I will have you know that I am a business woman with a lot of important business things I need to carry around, and my laptop is big and heavy so I need to use a back pack! I can’t fit it all in a purse!” “Well with you wearing that thing I’m worried the police are going to see you and call us to come pick up our little girl. [Does impression of police officer] ‘Yes, excuse me, Mr. Kelly but we spotted your daughter walking down the street, shouldn’t she be in school?’ DCFS will be after us too.” My Dad really made himself laugh with that one. “Well it’s your and Mom’s fault I look so young!” I replied “You guys are the ones that gave me these genes!”

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Was I seven or seventeen when this photo was taken? We can never really know.

When he’s not making fun of me for looking like a child, he is usually teasing me about being weak. Back in February we had a span of extremely cold days, and I accidentally left a case of Diet Coke in the trunk of my car which froze and then exploded. This was devastating, all 12 cans exploded, no survivors-it was hard to see my beloved Diet Coke in that state. Then my trunk froze shut so I couldn’t open it to clean in up. I wasn’t too worried about it though because cleaning up that Diet Coke massacre seemed like a lot of work, so I was fine with having an excuse to wait to do it. I stopped home and was telling my parents this story when my Dad interrupted me in the middle of it and said “Oh no, no, the trunk is not frozen shut, you’re just a weakling.” I tried to assure him that I tried numerous times to open it with no luck because it was, in fact, frozen shut, but he would not believe me. “Well that’s because you’re like a little infant! Infants aren’t strong enough to open trunks! Here, where’s Jane?!” My Dad said, looking around the house. “She could open that trunk up for you with no problem, she’s ‘Strong like Bull.’ JANNEEEE COME DOWN HERE PLEASE!” He yelled up to her. My dad had recently had surgery so he could not do any heavy lifting, so he outsourced the manual labor to his youngest daughter. Sure enough, Jane went out and popped the trunk right open. “Oh.” I said. “I guess you were right, Dad.”

If you feel bad for me that my Dad makes fun of me, don’t. He makes fun of his other four children too. (See my Dad’s contribution to our family group text below that he sent us a few years ago when visiting Jane in college for Parents Weekend)

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Our Dad is so sweet.

While he makes fun of us a lot, he’s also taught us how to give it right back to him, and we never hold back in doing this. Because of this, we’ve had a lot of laughs throughout the years. My Dad is a big goofball, and he’s definitely passed on this trait to me. So since we are both goofy nutcases, a lot of the conversations I have with my Dad don’t even make any sense. Other people overhearing them would probably think we were crazy (which we are). Most of the things my Dad and I talk about center around my Dad’s favorite things: trains, trucks, construction equipment and Diet Coke)

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This was last summer when I was living my best life on vacation in Michigan. Sipping Diet Cokes and watching trucks, making my Dad jealous. Life was good.

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Making fun of my Dad for being a dork and reading train magazines. I did become worried when I saw there was an article in the magazine titled “Meet a Family Who Cleans Up Derailments”- didn’t want Mike Sr. to get any ideas for his own family…

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Forget about the beautiful view of the ocean and mountains, I had my eyes set on that beautiful piece of construction equipment.

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Mike Sr. putting on his safari hat to head out to do one of his favorite things-rake leaves.

When I was about four years old, for some odd reason, my Dad decided one day at dinner that it would be hilarious if he started calling me a “Soup Spoon.” So from then on most days when he would come home from work, before taking off his coat or putting down his briefcase he would come through the door and make a beeline for the silverware drawer in the kitchen, grab a spoon and say to it “Hi Kathleen! How was your day?” My siblings thought this was also very funny, but I was not a fan, so this added to the hilarity for my Dad. So, for the past 25 years of my life or so, my dad still likes to call me a soup spoon or randomly text me about soup spoons. As you can imagine this joke has never gotten old (sarcasm font used on that last sentence).

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Wise words to wake up to from my Father. Please note that he sent that text at 6:26am. 

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Classic Millennial desperate to find some wifi.

While I often refer to my dad a weirdo, lunatic, nutcase and goof, I have come to realize I am just like him. But I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. I feel lucky to have grown up with a Dad like mine. He always cheered us up when we were sad, made us laugh when we were crying and has always been there ready with a joke to help ease a stressful situation. (Usually a lame joke but a joke nonetheless). A lot of people talk to their Dad about the news, sports, or career things, but I’m happy to continue talking to my Dad about trucks, trains and construction equipment. So this one’s for you Dad. Thanks for teaching us how to always find the humor in life and turning us all into lunatics just like you.

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We got really excited for cake.

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I don’t even know what to say about this photo.

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Mike Sr. doing his fake smile, probably at his wit’s end with his kids saying through clenched teeth “just take the picture Mo.”

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Classic Jane, the Big Boozer, hit the bottle a little too hard that night and passed out.

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Apparently my mom didn’t want to be pictured with this bunch of lunatics. I don’t blame her.

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Baby Bird Flies Away

A few months ago, I did something that most people probably thought would never happen: I moved out of my parents house. Yup, after 27 years of sucking the life out of my Mom and Dad, eating their food, racking up their water and electric bill, I ended my lease. Of course I was cordial and informed my landlords of my intent to move a few  months in advance. Upon hearing my shocking announcement I think my parents went through all the stages of grief. “What?!” My Dad said in disbelief. “You can’t move out, you’re like a little infant! Who is going to feed and take care of you if you’re not living here?!” “Umm excuse me!” I said back. “If you recall I did go away to college for four years and I did just fine! I didn’t even lose my cell phone once!” (Still my greatest accomplishment in life) “Who is going to help us with our tech problems if you’re not around?!” was my Mom’s first question (My younger sister Jane still lives at home but when it comes to technology her skill level is that of a Baby Boomer so my mom knew she wouldn’t be any help in that department.) “Don’t you worry Mom!” I said “I’ll just be about a mile away and plan to get one of those pagers that doctors use so I will still be on call to help with tech support 24/7.” I did my best to explain to them why I was moving. “Sorry Mom and Dad, it’s nothing personal, I do love you and love living with you, but it’s like the great REO Speedwagon said, ‘It’s time for me to fly.'”

It’s hard to sum up all the things I’ll miss about living at Ma and Pa Kelly’s Old Maid sanctuary but after giving it some thought I was able to narrow it down to ten things (in no particular order) I’ll miss about living at home. 27 years of life in a house is too much to cram into one blog post, this is definitely going to have to be a two-parter. So counting down here are numbers 10-6:

10. Mo’s “My Spy” Bird House

Mo loves here birds, often reminding her family that she had a parakeet growing up. I don’t know if this was her way of hinting to us that she wanted us to get her a bird, but that was never going to happen-birds are too loud and obnoxious to keep inside. Mo may love birds, but her family does not, so last Christmas we got her the next best thing-The “My Spy” Birdhouse. I’m not sure if anyone is familiar with this bird mansion or has seen this advertised on TV, but it’s basically a birdhouse with suction cups to stick to your window so you can watch the birds in the house. Seemed like an invasion of the birds’ privacy to me, but it came with a “privacy shade” so I went ahead and ordered it off of Amazon. Wow, was this gift a hit with Mo. Please enjoy the photos below that we captured of her opening her amazing gift last Christmas.

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My Dad is paying no attention to my Mom’s excitement, only thinking about recycling all that wrapping paper. Mike Sr. loves recycling.

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Me: “Yes Mom, we crunched some numbers and the five of us were able to scrap together enough money to buy that $10 bird house.”

Lucky for the rest of us, we all got to benefit from this gift because she had my dad hang it right on our large window in the kitchen, so we were able to watch for birds every day at dinner. Sadly, no birds seemed to want to buy (or rent if they were Millennial Birds) Mo’s My Spy Bird House, which became concerning for all of us.

 

Mom: No birds seem to be going in my bird house! Maybe I should have Dad move it to a smaller window in another room. I wonder if having it on this large window the birds can see us moving around in the kitchen and that scares them away.
Me: Whoa, Mom, I mean I know Jane doesn’t look great in the mornings but that’s a little harsh. She’s just not a morning person.
Jane: HEY! You little brat!
Me: Mom, there are no birds in that thing because you didn’t put any food in it. The birds aren’t going to go in unless there is free food.
Mom: Really? You think? Well we aren’t going to be giving these birds any free hand-outs, and you know how Dad hates when I buy bags of bird seed, so maybe I’ll try putting up the privacy shade and see if that helps first.

So, after talking it out we literally did nothing and the empty bird house continues to sit upon the large window in the kitchen. Going to miss seeing that every day!

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Any Bird would be living large in Mo’s “My Spy” Bird house

 

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That little girl is so lucky-there are so many birds in her bird house like what is her secret??!!

9. Helping the Baby Boomers with Technology

Being the Baby Boomers’ 24/7 tech support was a tiring job, I worked on everything from printers, to phones, TVs and computers. I didn’t mind it though because usually it was very entertaining to me and I got a good laugh. I once showed my Mom that she could set her phone on “low power mode” when her battery got low, a feature she did not know existed and I basically blew her mind. A few weeks later she was heading out the door to babysit for her beloved grandchildren and I hear her yell up to me, annoyance in her voice, “KATHLEEN! WHAT WAS THAT THING THAT YOU DID WITH MY PHONE WHERE YOU PUT IT TO LOW POWER?! IS THAT AN EXTRA CHARGE?! I HATE WHEN AT&T CHARGES ME FOR THESE THINGS! I’M DOWN TO 20% BUT I DON’T WANT THIS TO END UP ON MY BILL!”

Another time I was rushing to leave for work, just about to head out the door when my Mom came down the stairs in her pajamas and robe. “Hi Mom,” I said, going to give her a kiss and hug, “Sorry I’m running late for work gotta go, I’ll talk to you later.” “Good morning sweetie-oh yea no problem, have a good day but just a quick question…” she said as she leaned in for my kiss and then grabbed a hold of me. “After you went to bed last night I was watching one of my murder shows and as I was fast forwarding through the commercials I accidentally hit a button on the clicker and the TV went blank! Can you look at it later?” Yea, yea sure,” I said in a rush, “I’ll look at it after work but I’m running late I have to head out.” But at that point Mo had a strong grip on me and I knew I wasn’t getting away. “Sure no problem, later is fine. But here, let me show you what I think I did,” She said as she shoved the remote in my face, still tightly grasping me. So, being the good IT worker that I am, I put down my things and fixed the TV for her and she was very grateful. Nothing makes Mo more happy than spending a morning watching one of her shows about a horrific and brutal murder while sipping her coffee and eating a yogurt. Knowing I put a smile on her face was the only payment I needed. Definitely going to miss that!

8. Tooling around in Mo Money’s Honda Mini Van

Now that I don’t live at home anymore, I no longer have the ability to borrow Mo’s 2012 Grey Honda Mini Van whenever I want. 16 cup holders, fold-down back seat, enough leg room to comfortably seat 7, she is a damn beauty! It will be a tough adjustment not having Mama Mini around with her automatic sliding doors. I have to open the doors for myself in my stupid Toyota Corolla, it’s exhausting!

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I can bring so many drinks with me when I am driving in Mo’s Mini van. Water, coffee, Diet Coke, Gatorade, all my favorites.

7.  The Glow in the Dark Stars on my bedroom ceiling

Those glow in the dark stars almost got me evicted back in the early 2000s when I stuck them to the ceiling without first checking with a CERTAIN landlord. I’m not going to name any names as to which of my two landlords was not very happy about it but his name just happens to rhyme with MAD. My Dad was so mad I thought I was going to be kicked to the curb with no other option but to become a Newsie at the young age of 8, working the streets selling papers just trying to get by. I actually feel bad writing about this now because I know his blood pressure is probably skyrocketing as he sits and reads this blog, thinking about those damn stars, reminding him how I ruined the ceiling drywall putting them up. While my Dad hated them, they provided me something interesting to look at while I’d lay wide awake in my bed for hours and hours trying to fall asleep. We weren’t allowed to have TVs in our rooms growing up, I needed something to entertain me. Never once did I see a shooting star though which is kind of a bummer. Now that I am grown and still an insomniac, and still don’t have a tv in my room, I miss looking up at those glowing stars.

6. Hanging out with Duke

I’ll be the first to admit Duke and I had a bit of a rough patch in his younger days, but that’s only because I felt he was personally targeting me with his puppy antics. Chewing on only MY shoes, tearing down MY pictures from the refrigerator, chewing and ruining MY 8th grade video. Thank goodness he grew out of that stage and we’ve been buddies ever since. He is always a good sport when I make him take snap chats with me too.

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Boy was that a wild weekend. My parents went away for the weekend leaving me and Duke home alone. Duke ate so many Puperoni’s that Saturday night, he couldn’t even get out of bed on Sunday.

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Living with mostly girls his entire life, Duke has the patience of a saint.

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Jane and Duke are super into art. so cultured.

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I let Duke ride in my Toyota Corolla and the first thing he did was complain about the lack of cup holders. So ungrateful.

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Mike Sr. keeps the thermostat set so low Duke has to keep his paws warm somehow.

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After that I never gave Duke coffee again, he went right back to Dog Chow.

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I was trying to be domestic and work in the kitchen but Duke is anti-gender roles so he was trying to stop me.

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Chilling on the patio with Duke-Dog Days of summer am I right??!!

I’m going to miss that furry face greeting me when I walk in the door. Duke was always excited to see me no matter what time of day or night it was-he never made snide comments about what time I would come home from the bars at either, DAD. Thank goodness my apartment is only a few miles away though so I can still visit with my good friend Duke whenever I want.

***Stay tuned for the next five in part 2!**

Little Lambs go to Italy Part 1: Getting There

 

IMG_4800In July, my sister Jane and I took the trip of a lifetime-a two week tour through Italy. Most people, when preparing to go to a foreign country and spend a whole bunch of money on such an expensive vacation, might spend weeks or even months planning out every  detail-places to visit, hotels to stay at, transportation, budgets, etc., but not us. We were pretty last minute in everything. I mean, who has time these days to plan out a trip to Europe?! Definitely not two twenty somethings, who live at home with their parents, have no kids or family to take care of, households to maintain or real adult responsibilities to take up their time. We were ACTUALLY busy. Jane was halfway through The Office series on Netflix and I was trying to power through the last season of Nurse Jackie. Plus, if you wait until the last minute, it only takes a minute! That’s our motto! So, a few short weeks prior to our departure, at about 11:00 p.m. on a Tuesday night, Jane and I decided to finally book our flights and throw a couple of grand at a tour company we knew really nothing about except that they plan the trip details and logistics out for you, so we were sold.

We were pumped for this new adventure but our dad wasn’t 100% thrilled that his two youngest were leaving the good old USA and traveling abroad together. When he’s not calling us “Millennial snowflakes,” he often refers to Jane and me as “two little lambs”- young, naive, and too trusting of the world. “Oh great, you two will be traveling together,” my Dad said sarcastically. “I can just imagine you two walking down the streets of Italy ‘La-de-da life is beautiful, hey where’s the beer?! Where’s the party at?!’ I’m going to need to pray extra hard you two don’t get kidnapped!” I quickly tried to reassure my Dad and remind him that I was a young business woman with TWO SUCCESSFUL business trips under my belt, not one, but TWO. So I was pretty confident I could manage a trip abroad while caring for my younger sister. He had no reason to fret. Was I worried about spending every single moment for two weeks with my sister? No, not really. I have known her a pretty long time and we’ve vacationed together a few times before-Michigan basically every year and Disney World once in the late 90’s with the family-so I knew we would get into some extremely stupid fights, but we’d both come back alive. We travel well together for the most part.

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Jane being lazy and needing my help down the slide on a family vacation in Michigan.

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Special thanks to my mom for dressing me (far left) like a 45 year old father of four with that white bulls hat and blue and white windbreaker to ensure no one would want to kidnap me during this family trip to Disney World. I bet I was wearing ankle high white socks and gym shoes too.

After days of planning out our outfits and figuring out how to fit everything we needed for two weeks into two tiny suitcases, the day finally came for us to depart on our big trip. Our Dad drove us to the airport all alone because apparently our mom doesn’t love us and thought it was more important to go couch shopping with her other daughter. Being a gentleman he made sure we got into the airport ok, said goodbye and then left us at the terminal. We checked our bags and then got in line to go through security and that’s when we ran into the first few hiccups of our travel journey.

“Uggghhh man look at this security line, airports are the worst am I right?” I said. “What are you talking about?!” Jane responded. “There are like two people ahead of us, this is the shortest I’ve seen it in a a long time!” “Ugh well my carry on backpack is so heavy I’m getting tired of standing.” I said. “Hey wait,” Jane said. “Do you have room in there for the shampoo? I had it packed in my suitcase but thought it might spill so I took it out last minute and don’t really have room in my carry-on.” Well, being the selfless older sister I am, I responded, “Yea sure, let me just move around some things.” I took my backpack off and started to rummage through my items and rearrange them in my backpack. While doing this I pulled out the huge jug of contact solution I had in my backpack. I looked up and noticed Jane was looking at me like I had just pulled out a bomb. Before I could ask her why she was looking at me with such a frightened look on her face she whisper yelled at me, “What are you doing with that?! You can’t go through security with that!” I was still confused, “What are you talking about?! I need contact solution for my contacts! Not all of us can have perfect 20/20 vision, JANE!” Stupid healthy Jane, I thought to myself, always rubbing in that fact that she’s perfectly healthy and I’m not. “No you dummy!” she responded “Liquids have to be 4 ounces or less! You can’t carry that on the plane!” “Oh shoot!” I said, “I forgot that was still a thing! Ugh darn! Well, I’m just going to have to risk it, I’m not throwing out this jug of contact solution, I JUST bought it from Meijer and it set me back 15 dollars I am NOT just going to throw it out!” Even though I said this with confidence, internally I began to panic and question everything I knew about airport security. I started to bombard Jane with my questions as if she was head of the TSA. “Shoot Jane, can I go through security with my watch? What about my earrings do I need to take them off?! And my ring?!” She politely told me to shut up. A few minutes later, as we moved up in the line right before we were about to take off our shoes and put our bags on the conveyor belt, the TSA officer monitoring our line looked over at the two of us and called Jane over. Oh no, I thought, he knows about my jug of contact solution! To my bewilderment though he simply asked Jane how old I was. We both looked at each other confused as to why he was asking Jane about MY age. Especially since a lady NEVER reveals her age. Turns out he was asking because people traveling with children 12 and younger can skip taking off their shoes and go through the express security line and he thought I was 12. He was absolutely shocked to learn I was 27. Jane could not stop laughing. “Oh shut up Jane! You’ll be jealous when I’m 40 and still look 12!” Karma caught up with Jane though and her bag got flagged going through security and had to be searched. Turns out it set off the alarm because her bag was too “dense” most likely, they said, from having too many books in her bag. When the TSA agents told us this I laughed and said, “Haha Jane you dork!” I don’t think this helped my case in proving I was NOT a 12 year old but it was worth it.

Once we got through security we had plenty of time to kill because our flight was two hours delayed! So we found the nearest bar and posted up there for a while-making our dad proud! After what seemed like forever, we finally were starting to board the plane. While waiting in line Jane’s passport photo caught my eye and I became frightened, as I thought I might be traveling with a potential serial killer. “That’s interesting,” I said to Jane, “I had no idea they let people use their mug shots as their passport photos too. When did you do time in prison, Jane?” She gave me a shove and claimed they wouldn’t let her smile for her photo, yet I was allowed to smile for my passport photo? Very suspicious, JANE! Perks of being a 12 year old forever I guess-you get to take a smiling passport photo. She also assured me she never did any prison time so I’m glad we got that squared away before we were about to board a plane together.

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Typical Millennial snowflakes being dramatic over a minor inconvenience. As you can see, I used my extra time to perfect my Snap Chat editing skills. Jane was my first subject.

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Our delayed flight also gave us time to get a quick check-up at the airport shoe hospital. Those airplanes are full of germs so you can never be too careful.

We got two seats together, put our carry-ons in the overhead bin, and settled in for a very long flight. Jane immediately began to inflate her travel neck pillow like an 87 year old woman and passed out in seconds. I, on the other hand, knew I would not be able to fall asleep on this flight so I perused the movies and decided to watch the movie “Lady Bird.” I was excited to learn more about the life of former first lady, Lady Bird Johnson in this film until I discovered “Lady Bird” was not about Lady Bird Johnson at all! After I realized I had gotten my movies confused I kept waiting for Michael Keaton’s character to come on screen but THEN remembered he was in the movie “BirdMAN” and not “Lady Bird.” What is with all these movies with “Bird” in the title, sheesh! I finished the movie but honestly could not tell you what it was about because of all the bird mix ups.

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I was able to get this quick photo in before Grandma fell asleep with her fluffy neck pillow.

Later on they served us our delicious prepackaged and preservative-filled microwave airplane dinner. Jane rudely began to eat her dinner before I had even gotten my tray-had her parents not taught her any manners? She was nice enough to keep ordering and giving me her waters and juices. I’m literally thirsty all the time and those airplane cups are like shot glasses so I was tossing back the liquids left and right! Luckily, Jane is like a camel and can have a little bit of water and be set for days so she had no problem giving up her water and soft drinks to me. After our bellies were full we remembered the first item we forgot at home-Tweezers! We were both devastated that we forgot this major necessity. “Oh great!” I said sarcastically. “We’re both going to come back to America in two weeks looking like Bert from Sesame Street without any tweezers!” God forbid we actually buy a pair in Europe.

After what seemed like days on that airplane we finally landed in Rome. Me and prison Jane sailed through customs, grabbed our bags and then realized we did not know how to get to our hotel. We were told we could take the train to our hotel but figuring that out was a little harder than we thought. Jane and I mainly specialize in calling Ubers back home but we could not do that in Italy so trying to figure out public transportation was a bit of a challenge. We are south side suburban bumpkins, we are no city girls! We must have looked lost in the airport because a young Italian man came up to us and asked if we needed help getting somewhere. We told him we were trying to take the train to our hotel and he informed us the train workers were on strike but he had a shuttle service that he could arrange to take us right to our hotel for only 20 euro! “How convenient!” we thought. What a great idea for two young girls in a foreign country who have no idea where they are going and don’t speak the native language to take a ride from a complete stranger! So we agreed and he made a bunch of suspicious phone calls speaking Italian, then he passed us off to another Italian man who led us to a black van with tinted windows in a parking garage. Scenes from the movie “Taken” were flashing through our minds as we began to worry that maybe we were being kidnapped. We did notice other people in the van though so instead of running away and dealing with the absolute HASSLE of trying to figure out that public transportation nonsense we decided to risk being kidnapped/our lives and jumped right into the front seats of the van with our driver. Luckily, it turned out great and the driver took us right to our hotel! Phew!

We checked into our hotel room and discovered we had a room with two twin beds-just like our old room at Mike Sr. and Mo Kelly’s Old Maid Boarding House! Italy really knows how to make people feel at home! We dropped our bags and decided to walk around the area for a bit. We took some photos with all the Mopeds, scooters and motorcycles parked everywhere, saw lots of dumpsters and grabbed some coffee to try and ward off that jet lag we were starting to feel. Unfortunately, our walk was cut short as Jane had just eaten a gigantic cookie moments before we left the hotel for our walk and was now starting to feel sick. Her face was pale and she looked like she was about to blow chunks all over the place so I led us back to our hotel where we both took a very quick nap.

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Didn’t see ANY cup holders so I declined the offer to take it for a spin.

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Total dude magnet

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Could not get over this dumpster’s long, luscious eye lashes! The dumpsters in Italy really are beautiful!

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Our uncomfortably close twin beds in our hotel room. We even threw our junk all over the place just like we do at home! Our parents would be so thrilled!

After that we headed down to the lobby for a meet and greet with our tour guide and the 49 other people on our tour group. Everyone was very nice, friendly and seemed cool! We all went to dinner and then drinks afterwards but Jane and I were so tired we called it an early night and headed back for a good night’s rest in our twin beds. The beds were pretty comfortable but they were awkwardly close together. So close in fact that Jane smacked me right in the face during the night! (She has YET to apologize for this by the way) Then at three in the morning she woke up and turned all the lights on and started to get ready thinking it was time to start the tour! She was so out of it it took me a while to convince her to go back to bed. “You dodo bird! It’s three in the morning! I yelled to her (ever so politely of course) from my bed “Go back to sleep and shut off all those lights!” When our alarm finally did go off the next day Jane woke up well rested and ready to start our tour! I on the other hand, was feeling a bit sluggish from being physically assaulted in the face and being woken up at the crack of dawn by my lunatic sister. We checked out of our hotel and got on our coach bus for our first day of Italian adventures. We were ready and excited to start day one of what was to be an amazing trip filled with fun times, great sights and awesome new friends!!

Stay tuned for Part 2…