Belief in tomorrow.

When I met Cody I didn’t have my own set of beliefs like he did. He had experience and reasons for loving who and what he loved.

I had never had an opinion on what to believe in and who to follow.

So I followed along with the crowd and adopted Cody’s beliefs as my own.

But over the last year things have changed since moving to Indiana. When we moved here a miraculous set of events set into motion to let me know that I was meant to go my own way. I finally have a reason to believe. Someone to follow.

This does not sit well with Cody.

And tomorrow, Sunday, September 30th will be a monumental day in our marriage.

Who’s beliefs will reign supreme?

Will I regret standing on my own two feet and following who I know is best?

Cody is a Denver fan.

I am a Colts fan.

Pray for us both. (Well, pray for Cody, he’s going to need it.)

**UPDATE**

Thanks Jim, my quarterback totally can out endorse his quarterback.

Cutler who?

Sweet, sweet striped revenge.

the moosh has been putting up with her dad and his damn highlighters for three years.
Bitty moosh tiger..grrr
I have put up with taking a striped child out in public for three years.
the moosh.
Little did Cody know the moosh has been plotting her revenge.
moosh tounge as a tiger.
And oh, how sweet it was.
Sweet Sweet Revenge
Sweet deliciousness of sweet revenge is hers.
The rare Crayola Tiger...grrr

Is your punk son missing his shoes?

Did your son come home the other night without these on his feet?

Vigilante Nikes

Did he tell you how he lost them?

No?

Well, allow me.

Your kid was breaking into our car a couple of nights ago and my husband (we’ll call him Captain Awesome for the time being) drove up as your son was IN. OUR. CAR. (For those of you who are regular readers here this is a different break in than this one. I know, such a classy life I lead.)

Captain Awesome, being the bad ass vigilante that he is, jumped out of his car and chased your little juvenile delinquent son. That’s right, a 28 year old man took down your 15 year old twit. Lucky for your son Captain Awesome busted up his shoulder last week and couldn’t tackle your son properly without risking his arm. And my man needs his arm.

But he did get his shoes.

And I dare bet your son messed his pants.

We haven’t decided what to do with your son’s shoes yet, but we’re not giving them back.

Notice

Keep your mitts off our stuff you stupid, stupid people.

Any delicious suggestions for what to do with the shoes?

Lickity Genetics.

So some of you have noticed my kid’s tongue.

I’m surprised, it’s not like it noticeable or anything.

moosh tounge in blue.
What can I say? It’s always been there.

bitty moosh tongue
Always.
moosh tongue covered in turkey
In the bath.

clean moosh tongue
Made up.

moosh tongue with mascara
By the wall.

moosh tounge by a wall.
Popping bubbles.

moosh tounge with a side of bubble.
Even when she’s painted as a tiger.

moosh tounge as a tiger.
No, I didn’t procreate with Gene Simmons.

moosh tounge with the mama.

That tongue? It’s mine. Aaaalll mine.
Stay tuned.

The resident sicko.

May I recommend removing all canines from the immediate area?

Thank you.
the moosh has been sick and can currently hit notes only four legged animals can hear.

(Again, as a disclaimer. This viddy-oh is really only meant to entertain those who are morally or genetically obligated to think the moosh is funny. So if you don’t want to watch it don’t feel bad. We don’t expect you to.)

! = sarcasm. (In case you don’t know me well enough.)

Family outing day!

THE CIRCUS!

THE CIRCUS!

ELEPHANTS!

ELEPHANTS!

TIGERS!

TIGERS!

HORSES!

HORSES!

OH! GOSH! I’ll bet the moosh loved it! Every minute of it!

Well, actually.

She fell asleep.

Crapped out.

Of all the places to fall asleep (like in her room for starters) she fell asleep at the circus.

The flashy, loud, bright circus.

Cody got to carry her for like, oh, 12 blocks, because she stayed asleep.

All 31 pounds of her.

The longest walk. Ever.

Did I mention Cody royally busted up his shoulder Thursday night?

Yay for the circus! The most calming place my kid has been since the womb!

The Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Striped Bikini Project.

The Teeny Yellow Bikini Project.

Yes I’m doing something that requires a bikini in 28 days. No I’m not going to tell you what.

Why not?

Because.

So there.

(For those of you who know, SHHH. Or I’ll bust an Avada Kedavra. Don’t think I won’t. Try me, I dare you. For those of you who don’t speak Potterese it means I’LL KILL YOU AND IT WILL HURT.)

I’m posting this project because I want to be accountable to all of you, dear readers, if I’m the one in the corner wrapped up in lots and lots of fabric in 28 days.

Are you angry?

Well, sorry.

I’m a tease, just ask my husband. (Well, don’t. That could get awkward.)

Here, look at my kid popping a bubble with her tongue.

That should distract you.

Poppin'
Hopefully you’ll see me dressed in a lot less in 28 days.

(Whew, never thought I see myself typing that.)

What? There’s only like a billion blogs.

I’m using someone else’s blog today. Find me if you can.