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    BeingSavvyIndianapolis

    • Faddahs.

    June 15, 2008

    Blog-I am your faddah and yo muddah. For this I am sorry. All those dramatic “fatal error” messages you’ve been forced to give people? Sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’m not ashamed to beg ask for help. In the last twelve hours two people have been up in your business doing things I was unable to do on my own. Sorry if you feel violated, but you look so much better. And hopefully work so much better too. (Hey, if any of you get a fatal error message will you let me know? kthxbai)

    Big juicy thank yous to Elizabeth and J. Maxfield for getting their code all up in my FTP. (blog humor. har.)

    And now moosh-your dad is up in bed snoring and moaning like a severely wounded walrus. Today is Father’s Day and I just wanted to let you know, as someone who’s lived with your dad for seven years that the teasing and relentless obnoxiousness will likely never stop. It’s how he shows us that he loves us.

    Seriously.

    Your shrieks of horror and protest must be music to your dad’s ears or else he wouldn’t insist on pissing you off so often. He never had a brother. We have to forgive him for this. Guy just doesn’t know how to be surrounded by wimmin all the time. It’s made him a little crazy. Good news? Any brothers that you may have will pale in comparison to what your faddah dishes out.

    There is a moment in your birth video where he reaches out and touches you really REALLY quick while the nurses are cleaning you off. He didn’t want to get in trouble. You can hear the nurses say “It’s okay dad, she’s yours, you can touch her all you want.” Later when he told me that he got to be the first! to! touch! you!  was the first time I ever saw him weakened with the power a little girl holds over her daddy. He hasn’t recovered since. You are his world.

    In another hour he will get up and start teasing us. And poking us. And annoying us. This is how boys show they like you. From kindergarten to high school to marriage. The more they pick on you the more smitten they are.

    I think it would be impossible for daddy to be any more smitten with us.

    We’re lucky ladies.

    Happy Father’s Day dude.

    Tales of the Hybrid Trouser Mouse with Optional DVD Navigation System.

    May 8, 2008

    I’d just like to throw out there that picking a new car with your spouse is much like trying to pick out a new pen!s.

    He wants power with lots of get up and go, I want comfort and reliability. Cost is obviously a concern. But so is performance. You want it to last a long time without much maintenance but not be so flashy with the bells and whistles that it stands out in crowd. But then again you don’t want what every other Tom, Dick and Harry is driving around. It needs to be fuel efficient or you’ll never really enjoy using it in today’s economy. Size is important, you obviously don’t want some little dinghy thing doing your everyday bidness but you also don’t want something so big that it becomes in hindrance. (Parking in tight spaces, hello?) Preferably a color you both like with soft supple leather to cradle your body when on long road trips. It obviously has to be practical or people will start thinking you’re compensating for something. And don’t forget the whole used vs. new debate. Do you really want one someone else has probably clipped their toenails in and took for a ride around the village a few dozen times with who knows what riding shotgun? Think of the things that could be hiding under the hood of those with “experience.” *shiver*

    At the same time his is just a few drives away from dying. Can’t take too long to decide because mama needs daddy to have a good reliable “family wagon” or her whole day is thrown off.

    Don’t even get me started on the convenience of push button start, DVD navigation and dual climate control.

    Can you just imagine?

    Dear Hunka Hunka,

    April 25, 2008

    Right now people are reading this hoping for scandalous pictures of me shaking my money maker completely sober out on a dance floor that were taken last night. But alas they are going to be stuck reading this (I’m not sure yet what adjective to use here) note to you.

    Just now when you left to go back to school to continue your adverse possession of the law library I squeaked out a “Please don’t go.” through snot and puffy teary eyes. I wanted to say it to you, but I know school is where you need to be and I know if I would have said it to you, you would have stayed. But I’m so grateful for the hour you came home to be with me tonight that I can’t go getting selfish.

    Now don’t worry, this isn’t me getting sad. This is me missing you. This is also me so damn tired from shaking my money maker last night that my ears are buzzing, by eyes are burning and I’m beginning to hear voices. Unfortunately I don’t think there’s a single person (including you) that wants to hear my voice and my constant nose blowing right now. But the blog never cares what hour it is or what I’m wearing or how many tissues pile up next to it.

    I love you so much I feel like half of my heart is missing, locked up in a law library at the corner of West and New York for 18 hours a day. I know it’s only a couple more weeks. And I know as soon as I get a good nights sleep I’ll sound and act a whole lot less crazy. But for now you’re all I can think about. How I’m even more in love with you now that that moment on your couch I knew I was going to be with you forever over seven years ago is beyond me. But I am.

    Keep on doing what you’re doing.

    Only one more year of school.

    I’m so proud to call you my husband. And honored that you ever chose me to be your wife and the ruler mother of your child.

    And even though you’ll be at school for 55 of the next 72 hours please don’t forget that my birthday is on Monday. Law school’s important, but not that important. Duh.

    Loce,

    Redbeth

    (Oh, and by the way, those scandalous pictures? Right here baby, right here. Promise I’ll get to that after I recover from all this love I have for Cody.)

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