Faddahs.

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.

A rare sighting.

A real photographer would have waited another two hours for the light to be perfect and glowy.

I however was a mom with a cute kid in a good mood wearing a pink tutu, cherry rhinestones in her hair and ruby slippers.

Cute kids in a good moods wearing a pink tutus, cherry rhinestones in their hair and ruby slippers don’t wait for perfect, glowy light.

They’re like Sasquatch. You are not quite sure they exist but if they do come out you’d better be ready, perfect glowy light or not.

Feeling Caulky.

I should have warned our sink about Cody. Cody has crazy amounts of facial hair and has to shave on a regular basis for work. Cody just happens to be missing the gene that causes him to wipe his whiskers out of the sink. Bummer really, because it leads me to scrub the living daylights out of the poor sink, whatever caulk it had and frankly the sink and I don’t have a very healthy relationship.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

So after a crazy session of husbandly shaving I cleaned the sink. Well, after I solved one other little problem.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

If there were such a thing as sink therapy my sink would be sending me the bill.

So after unclogging and scrubbing I patted myself for a job well done and planned on watching a little TV.

The sink had other ideas.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

OH REALLY? And what do you expect me to do about it?

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

CAULK YOU? Seriously? With the gun and the time and the 24 hour period and the money and the waste and I DON’T CAULK.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

Okay. I see your point. So maybe a little caulk wouldn’t hurt. I just wish there were an easier way to do it.

“Excuse me ma’am?”

Yes?

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

I am a GE Caulk Single and I am here to save the day for less than two dollars! (available at Lowe’s, ACE Hardware and True Value, just sayin’)

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

Okay sink, maybe you win this time. I’ll start scraping.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

(Insert heavy caulking session here.)

Well say! That was pretty easy.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

HEY! I’ve never caulked before. I think I did a decent job. Now quit with the nitpicking and tell me how you really feel.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

That’s right you do. And you look better too. Now say thank you to Mr. Caulk Single.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

GE Caulk Singles Challenge.

So there you have it. GE Caulk Singles saves the sink. (And gets me a sweet entry into BlogHer’s Spruce Up Your Space Contest for wha? A $1000 gift card. That’s right. HURRY THERE’S STILL TIME TO ENTER!)

Now if they could only make sinks whisker proof. *sigh*

Avoiding the flies on poo fallout.

What you say: “If you do that one more time, WE WILL GO HOME.”

What you think: “For the love of Pete please KNOCK IT OFF because I spent an hour getting ready to come here and I really don’t want to go ten minutes after getting here.”

Anyone experienced with the 3′ and under set know that as soon as you bend one rule with a toddler they are on you like flies on poo. They suddenly feel entitled to get away with tantrum murder. I’ve been lucky thus far in my parenting career. Generally if I have “that tone” in my voice when telling the moosh to mind me she listens without further argument. And let me just tell you there have been moments when I had no consequence or punishment in mind, I just threw the “mom tone” out there hoping it would fool her. *phew* most of the time it does. But then there’s those times when you throw out a consequence that you don’t really mean, and you’re left praying that your kid shapes up or your faced with the flies on poo dilemma.

Take for example our trip to the pool today. We had finally gotten there (Have you ever taken a kid swimming? The toys, the sunscreen, the potty, the snacks, the swimsuit, the towels, the bikini line, THE UTTER PREPAREDNESS OF IT ALL.) and after an hour the lifeguards took a break and everyone was to get out of the pool during the guards break. the moosh pulled some attitude after I told her to get out of the pool.

“You pull attitude again, we go home.” I said (thinking that would be enough to set her straight, HA HA said the parenting gods.)

She did the ugly grunt/growl at me, stomped her foot, scrunched her nose and yelled “NO!”

Decision time.

Two hours to get to the pool for only one hour of swimming. Do I abandon all that hard work on principle?

Yes, yes I do. Flies on poo Casey, flies on poo.

“I asked you not to be mean, we’re going home.

Cue the tears. OH THE TEARS. To see the moosh with her wet mop of curls, over sized mermaid sunglasses, wrapped in a pink beach towel with her chubby thighs sticking out bawling the saddest cry a small person is able to muster is a sight no one can look away from. People want to hug her, give her candy and unicorns. (I want to hug her and give her candy and unicorns too, but PRINCIPLE!) I’m left dragging a haggard, sad, chubby little water baby out of the YMCA all because she didn’t listen to me.

Now I’ve only had to abandon a well planned activity once before. It was the zoo, early last year. An hour to get prepared and travel there and less than ten minutes inside the gate when Tantrum War II broke out.

Principle sucks sometimes.

Another time the moosh was in her car seat just as we set out on a ten hour drive to Kansas City. Whatever she was doing was unacceptable and I turned to tell her “IF YOU DO THAT ONE MORE…” I stopped myself. What the heck was I going to do to a kid strapped in a car seat? Leave her at the side of the road? She knew it too. She looked at me as if to say “You’ll do what MOM? Put me in time out? Really? I’m right here. No going anywhere. Bring it.”

But I’m pleased to say that the moosh listens perdy darn well for a three year old. And if it takes days like today to give merit to my scary mom tone then so be it.

You’ve done this too right? Everyone? The whole “I’m saying it but I really don’t want to mean it” thing? How scary is your scary mom tone?

Flooded.

Maybe you’ve heard that half of Indiana is underwater. It kind of is.

When my sister was visiting from Utah she didn’t take a shower because one day Cody used what she thought was too much water to wash the dishes. I don’t think she realized the difference in climates.

Indiana flood 06-07-08

Indiana flood 06-07-08

Indiana flood 06-07-08

Indiana flood 06-07-08

Indiana flood 06-07-08

Indiana flood 06-07-08

Indiana flood 06-07-08

Indiana flood 06-07-08

Indiana flood 06-07-08

None of the water came into our house or did any damage. The rest of Indiana wasn’t so lucky. Thanks for all the concern, and the occasional freak out. (HI DAD! Sorry I didn’t call, I forget you watch the news. xoxo)

A Braquiry for Braformation. AKA the Front Hooker Slide.

If you’ve been around a while then you’ll know I met Cody whilst a manager of Frederick’s of Hollywood.

Who wouldn’t want to marry that right?

Anyway. With all the bra fitting and bra talking and bra this bra that I learned something about us wimminz. Something to bring up at your next playgroup. Because I promise there will be some funny looks after you pose this one question.

“How do you put on your bra?”

Are you a front hooker slider or a back hooker?

Go forth, discuss. Let me know how it goes.

(I’m a back hooker personally. I believe myself to be the minority.)

The healthcare of stereotypes.

Stereotype would have you believe that as soon as Cody graduates we’ll be driving new SUV’s and living in the nice part of town with all the other doctors and lawyers. We will be going on family vacations to the Bahamas and have matching Ralph Lauren luggage and linen pants. Carefree! Rich! Raking in the dough!

Wrong.

The closer his graduation gets the more I realize that not only are we going to have to be grownups and buy a house with a water bill, a garbage bill, a sewage bill, a gas bill, no landlord to take care of the leaky faucets,  we are going to have loans to repay. Loans that will amount to even more than what a mortgage and two new SUVs would amount to; not that we’re getting SUVs but whatever.

I look forward to having a house after eight years of marriage, while at the same time I want to curl up in a corner and cry because I don’t feel old enough to be dealing with IRAs, stock portfolios, life insurance and mortgages.

Today I had an experience that angered/frustrated/humbled/outraged and opened my eyes all at once. I had to go see a doctor at a new clinic about some issues I’ve been experiencing. It was a low income clinic because we don’t have insurance, and medical tests and procedures are expensive. Because we go to low income clinics, the wait times are longer and getting appointments can be like trying to get a lunch date with the President. But hey, I’ll take what I can get.

After my appointment today I was made to sit down with a “financial counselor.”

I had been “flagged.” Apparently they thought I was trying to “mooch off the system.” They wanted me to prove to them that I was eligible for financial assistance for my medical care. Even though I had a card that said I was eligible for a discount on my medical care through their facility, they thought there had been an oversight and that I was to pay full price for a visit to their clinic. Their clinic was for people with “no insurance” and “strained financial situations.”

When did living off $1500 a month become a “wonderful financial situation”?

This is where I get nervous about writing what I want to write. Trolls? Stay back. I don’t mean this to sound the way you’re going to want to twist it and make it sound.

I’ve never really been put in a situation like this before, but as I sat there trying to explain to this man that my husband was in school and we were living off small amounts of borrowed money that isn’t even ours, I started to feel like I was being accused. Because someday my husband will (hopefully) have a decent income we should find some magical way to have health coverage? Or we should pay full price for our health care now? No, we’re not going to be in this situation forever, it’s only temporary. But I still needed to see a doctor whether my husband was a hobo or an attorney. And I’m still on a tight budget whether my husband is going to school to become a nose picker or a lawyer. Nothing is going to change that. And if there’s an option where I can get medical care for cheaper I’m going to take it. If you’re on a budget and there was a way you could save hundreds, if not thousands on your medical care, even though it meant longer waits and appointments made far in advance, wouldn’t you do it? Assuming you were eligible (on paper) to receive such care?

I’m frustrated. No, we currently don’t pay taxes, but in another year we will enter a tax bracket so ridiculous we’ll be sure to make up for lost time. And honestly after our experiences over the last few years I am grateful for taxes and taxpayers in a way I never was before. A lot of people honestly need a little help sometimes. Yes, there are those who abuse the system, but then there are those who just need a little something to get them on the right track. We are in the latter.

This is one of the reasons this election is so hard for me, and I’ve never really known how to get it into words. By the time the new president gets his policies into effect we will be in a different scenario than we are now; we will be taxpayers with a mortgage and we’ll be hanging out in a high tax bracket. But for now, for this election we are a low income family trying to gain an education without any easily attained health care.

So do I vote for the candidate who will best suit who we are now, or who we’ll be in anther year? I don’t want to forget about all the wonderful people I’ve met while in this situation, the doctors, nurses, social workers and government employees who do all this hard work without enough gratitude or glory for the people who honestly need help to get back on their feet. But at the same time I don’t want to be paying more in taxes than we are able to save or put towards our own loans or mortgage.

So there.

I’m afraid I come off as a whiny baby. Hopefully there’s some of you who have been through the graduate school thing or a rough patch and can understand. I’m not a whiny baby, I’m grateful for the great life I enjoy and the comforts and opportunities I have in this country. I guess the stereotype that comes along with being an attorney’s wife is starting to rub me wrong.

Bah.

Be nice. I will delete on this one.

Can you be savvy while sleepy?

Hi.

I haven’t been around much.

You see, a while back I got this email that was all “HI CASEY WANT A BLOGGING JOB?” and I was all “WHOASA YES I LIKE BLOGGING JOBS!” And then I got an email (okay like a hundred back and forth) that said “HI WE NEED 15 POSTS FROM YOU BY THE TIME WE LAUNCH THIS BAD BOY ON JUNE 2nd.” and I was all “WHAT? OKAY! GARFUBBLELEH…”

So I wrote fifteen posts, the site launched and I became a big rich blogging celebrity the end.

HA! Just kidding. More like I became a horribly confuzzled blogger who forgot to shower for a few days, complete with bags under her eyes and Oreo crumbs down her cleavage. Yeah, that sounds more accurate.

So anyway, unless you have a kid under six and you live in the Indianapolis area you could care less what I’m writing about over at my new gig. HOWEVER, if you have a kid under six and you live in the Indianapolis area I AM YOUR NEW BEST FRIEND.

Being Savvy:Indianapolis

You see, I now write for Savvy Source, a resource for parents on all sorts of stuff. (I’m sure their PR just loves that I said their site is about “stuff”) BUT! Even if you don’t live in Indianapolis there’s a darn good chance that your city has its very own Savvy Source writer. (There’s about thirty other writers that I know of and more on the way.) We’re all about finding the best stuff to do with your kids in your own hometown.

IMG_5430

So that’s where I’ve been. Sorry. Busy busy busy. Plus all that time apparently NOT spent putting sunscreen on vital areas of my body.

Oh hai? Sunbernz? Hayt u.

Gah. So you should have me back now little blog. Thanks for waiting for me.