One of our Christmas traditions is to have an enormous bowl of M&M’s out and about from the moment we wake up until we pass out in a candy coated shell by night. Depending on how many people are around for Christmas the bowl is normally polished off by mid afternoon.

However this year there were only four of us and two of the three of us don’t really fit comfortably in our pants leading us to go easy on the bowl. We had lots of leftovers.

Lunch on December 26th consisted of leftovers (turkey!). When the moosh requested something else Cody said “Kid, we are only having leftovers for lunch.”

I then watched as a lightbulb popped up in her head as she muttered “The M&M’s are leftover, therefore M&M’s will be my lunch.” She then marched across the room, got a handful and sat back at the table.

When Cody finally noticed and started to say something I explained her logic in having “leftovers” for lunch.

The lawyer in him was appalled and proud at the very same time.

Can’t sleep.

My first instinct is to write. Always has been, even before this blog, before the moosh, before Cody and even before the tumultous years of high school.

I have kind of faded into the background in the world of blogging and it’s my own doing.  It’s changed so much since I started almost four years ago. There’s lists going around of the 50 best this and the 50 most that. There’s awards and sponsorships and jobs and books and articles and TV appearances. I’m not really a part of any of them.

And I don’t really care.

Now I’m in no way saying I’m above any of it, because I’m certainly not, everyone likes to be noticed and praised every now and again.

I don’t remember the exact question I asked Jen Lancaster last year at Blissdom, but I will never forget her answer.

“The first time I made myself laugh with my own writing is no more important than the first time I made the New York Times bestseller list.“

I have never had a bestselling book, an appearance on CNN or even been on the mystical “A-List Blogger” radar.

But I have saved someone’s life with something I wrote.

I inspired someone to complete a daunting goal.

Something I wrote has been published in a real live book.

I’ve made friends I’ll still treasure even when my teeth are removable and I’m wearing diapers.

I watched with envy for so long as so many of you went on to accomplish amazing things and form fantastic bonds with companies and other bloggers. But I’m at peace where I’m at, and I marvel at what so many of you have accomplished in the four years I’ve been around. I marvel because I know just how much work it is to get where you’re at, and beyond that how much more work it is to maintain everything you’ve worked so hard for.

Despite so much nasty press about bloggers over the past year, I’m proud to be in your company. To be a part of this thing so many of us do. The experiences and the “stuff” that has come from this simple act of writing have already exceeded what I ever thought imaginable.

Even with that I still have a blogger bucket list (can’t just give up now can I?)

• Write and publish a book.
• Get explored on flickr.
• Get one of those blogger trips to Disneyworld everyone else seems to go on. (seriously, it’s like Disneyworld is the blogger holy land.)
• Meet Julie Andrews.
• Be the subject of a professional photo shoot.
• Work at Hallmark.

Four years ago when I started my list would have looked something like this:

• make someone laugh.
• don’t quit.
• your and you’re, use them properly.

A lot has changed. The only things that haven’t changed? The name of this blog and that that I’m the one who writes for it.

Honestly, that’s it.

Dude, it’s four am. I’m hitting publish. Brain? If you want our fingers to write anything else you’re going to have to take a number.

Let me tell you a little about my life so far in 2010.

I get to cook. A lot. Counter space! A fridge that has it’s own zip code! A dishwasher that does everything short of load and unload itself! A kitchen faucet that is more bendy than Sting! It’s spectacular. Three meals in a day is hardly enough to keep me occupied.

Every night Cody and I do this little ditty called P90X. Maybe you’ve seen the infomercials. Yeah. It’s one of those workouts. The leader dude is named Tony Horton (or as I call him, Tony Ho) and if you were to be in the same room when Tony is telling me what to do you would hear me break my New Year’s resolution to swear less.

But here’s the thing. I’ve done the Shred thing with Jillian. Jillian is a wench (edited to honor aforementioned resolution.) I hate her. And her little backup minions are way to big on the smiling! and the perky! And I’m sorry, but when someone says “THESE ABS DON’T COME FOR FREE!” it makes me want to sit on her and force feed her a cheeseburger while I have a Klondike bar and yell something like “I’LL BET THOSE EYEBROWS DON’T COME FOR FREE!” Tony’s a little more my style, even though his workouts are over an hour, make me swear and leave me whimpering when I get out of bed, stand up or basically do anything other than breathe,  I’ll stick with him (As long as Cody does it with me, I have the motivation of a five year old doing taxes when it comes to working out.)

After our workout we shower and gather again, only this time wrapped in faux Snuggies. (His is Broncos themed, mine is the Rolls Royce of stupid blankets with sleeves from Brookstone.)

It’s a darn good thing I got mine in pink because Cody has Rolls Royce Snuggie envy.

Once relaxed and Snuggified we each do our thing, him watching football, me looking at funny pictures of cats exploring the very depths of the Internet. Often times you will find us playing Super Mario Bros. on the Wii. Have you played this game yet? Let me tell you, Mario (Cody) can either help Luigi (me) out or screw him over royally which includes but is not limited to jumping on his head, pushing him into black holes, nailing him with turtle shells, taking all the mushrooms for himself or squashing him off screen.

We’re learning to play civilly.

It helps that Tony Ho takes the brunt of my anger.

Not to mention it’s really hard to be angry wrapped in a freaking oversized backwards robe.

(shockingly, I wasn’t paid for any of this…)

Hi 2010.

I’m going to be swearing less.

Praying more.

Fighting less.

Loving more.

I’ll also be drinking a lot more water.

I’ll be nice to you if you’ll be nice to me.

xo, a very tired Casey fresh from 2009.

Cody’s little (well, 24 year old) sister came out to spend the holidays with us.

She’s single. Quite the catch.

Before she left for Indiana she slipped her number to a hunk at her gym.

He ended up texting her last week and they chatted on the phone each evening.

Things seemed to be going well.

And then my window farted.

You see, for some reason when it’s really windy outside the something happens with the seals on my windows and they make very flatulant, floppy (sometimes squeaky) farting noises.

The window farted while Olivia was on the phone with Gym hunk.

How do you explain something like that without looking like a TOTAL liar?

I don’t care how old you are, the age old saying “he who smelt it dealt it” is totally true until proven otherwise.

So Gym? I noticed the calls dropped off after my window tooted into the phone.

I’m here to set the record straight.

It was my window. Promise.

Olivia would NEVER do something like that, especially on the phone.

(me too for that fact, nothing but sunshine and rainbows emit from me as well.)

So give her another chance okay?

I can’t live with myself knowing that you may be calling her the “phone phart girl from the gym” when it was really just my ill mannered window.

With Regards,

Casey

I made my first turkey and there is an entire (painfully detailed) Wiki page dedicated to Perry the Platypus.

So our Christmas this year involved a turkey and a platypus.

I never did get to make a turkey for Thanksgiving, you know, living in a hotel and all. But for Christmas? GOBBLE. So here you go. How someone who has never cooked a turkey cooks a turkey after going to turkey school and learning every possible thing there is to know about turkey.

Except. Here’s the thing. I panicked. I had to call the Turkey Talk Line. (And I wasn’t even paid to, nor am I being paid to write this post (SUCK IT FTC.))

My fancy thermometer said the thigh meat was done. It also said the breast meat was done. But the cavity was filled with nasty looking stuff (like turkey blood, which, ew. (Also? I don’t stuff turkeys, something about cooking something in the butt of something…)) BUT! According to the turkey talk line all was well. I was done! I DID IT!

And it was delicious.

But what I did learn at turkey school? Get the turkey up off the bottom of the pan. Don’t have a fancy rack? IMPROVISE!

And like I said before. Use a darn thermometer. Okay?

After doing the “I cooked my first turkey and didn’t screw it up” victory dance I turned the oven off.

It was only three o clock.

When your kid wakes you up at 5 am on Christmas morning the day goes by verrry slowly.

ENTER TURKEY SCHOOL!

I wrapped that turkey up in foil, wrapped the foil wrapped turkey in towels and kept that turkey food safe toasty for two hours. (Or you know, until the rest of dinner caught up with the turkey.)

So there. I’m done gloating about the turkey success.

Wait, just kidding. THE GRAVY FROM THE TURKEY DRIPPINGS? BEST. GRAVY. EVER.

Okay. Now I’m done.

Did I mention Perry?

Or how my kid insists in dressing up in everything brightly colored from her closet to go out?

I don’t post videos very often, but this is her. Opening what she asked for from grandpa Santa for  Christmas. I can’t decide which is my favorite. When she kisses it, calls it “My Little Pony Get Your Hair Done Spa Day”, thanks Santa profusely at the very end or squeals one of four different times. (Don’t forget the total Utah “OH MY GOSH” at the very beginning.)

It was a good Christmas, in my house. With my family. Very cheery indeed.

You?

Heh. Just the title of this post makes my inner voices giggle.

I don’t decorate. I’ve been living with bachelor pad furniture for the last 9 years. (Still am!)

But I got so many emails asking “HOW DID YOU DO IT?” in regards to the before and afters of my dining room that I’m now writing this. To prove that I am flying by these, the seat of my pants.

1. I got lucky with the referral of a darn good contractor. His company deals mostly with high end renovations so “crappy” to him was “fancy” for our budget. He was able to suggest things that I would have never thought of. If you’re renovating or remodeling in Indianapolis? Call Gene at Indiana Renovations. Guy is a miracle worker. And he won’t even judge you when you cry. Or call him at 9pm on a Saturday freaking out. (But still, you probably shouldn’t do that…)

2. I’ve always subscribed to Better Homes and Gardens. For the last five years or so I have ripped out all the pretty houses that I liked and filed them away folder named “someday.” There was a definite pattern to what I liked. Lots of delicious textures and colors that could be named with food, like “chocolate” or “carmel” or “brulee.”

(somersaulting preschooler optional)

3. I stick to one color scheme in everything I do. It is both safer and cheaper this way. For example. 90% of the time I wear warm browns and/or deep jewel tones. This does two things, A) everything goes with everything else and B) It keeps me from buying that hot pink sweater no matter how cute it is because it won’t go with anything. I did this with everything I picked for my house. Everything is a warm neutral so everything goes with everything else no matter what room it is in.

(I picked out the carpet, wood, paint, vanities, fixtures, lighting and the tile all separate from each other without a sample of any to refer to when picking out the other. Keeping it all “warm” and “in my vision” has caused it all to come together very nicely at the end.)

4. Steal from the rich and make it your own. Pottery Barn. Restoration Hardware. Williams-Sonoma Home. Crate and Barrel. Nothing like a $3,000 couch to get the renovation blood lust flowing. Dude, just take what you like and find it cheaper. Big deal. Buy me something pretty with what you have left over. You wonder why I was so bent on getting my curtains from JCPenney? It’s because they have these perfectly wonderful faux silk insulated drapes for $26 (on sale) when Pottery Barn wants to charge you $119 for the same thing (only real silk, and not insulated, whatever.)

-Stole the sheer in the back/drape in the front look from my friend Megan, who stole it from Pottery Barn. Double drape rod from PB? $200. IKEA? $16.99.

-LED candles in the fireplace? THANKS FOR THE IDEA RESTORATION HARDWARE! About $20 each at their store, Kohls? $4 each. The mirror on the mantle? Williams Sonoma Home $1,295. Overstock sale at University Loft? $15.

–Chandelier and Kitchen lighting? IKEA, less than $50 each. If you’ve ever priced lighting? Then you know what I’m talking about. Also? The chandelier I picked out was black steel. $4 can of spray paint and it’s now brushed nickel. Somewhere an interior designer just died.

Is this all stuff people already know? Eh, if so, sorry. Maybe one person will find it handy. Because let me tell you, trying to pick out stuff you have to live with and someday maybe have to sell to other people? Kinda tricky. But whoo. Fun.

(Also? Our Christmas tree is upstairs. The last of the carpet downstairs was just laid today and we were too impatient to wait. Also? Did you notice that the first thing Cody moved into the living room was Monstro the TV? Yeah. Talk about bargaining. Also, let’s talk about what paint colors go well with a 60″ TV. Exactly none. So you just make do. Also? This is my last also.)