Growing up: Lawyers and doctors are rich!

Pre-Law School: (stars in my eyes) In three years my husband is going to be smart and rich!

Second year of law school: Huh, well this has to be worth it eventually right?

Four months away from graduation from Law School: Meh.

I admit to being just as disillusioned about law school and the prospects of my husband being an attorney as some people are about marriage being a romantic fun ride of never ending happiness. (P.S. If you’re new here, I don’t love newlyweds. They induce my gag reflex hardcore.)

Here we are, four months away from graduation and while three years ago I thought I’d be picking between a Cadillac or a Lexus, at this point I’m left deciding between Ramen or Mac & Cheese for dinner.

I don’t regret Cody going to law school. He enjoys it and he’s damn good at it.

We’re still married. We still like each other. We’re actually never around each other enough to get sick of each other.

My illusions about a rich lawyer husband are smashed.

We have so much else to look forward to besides fast cars and diamond shoes. Like massive graduate school debt and a whole lifetime (well, 30 years) to pay it off. See that? How I made that a glass half full thing?

Law school has really helped my cynicism.

So hit me, let’s be optimistic about those pessimistic things in our lives.

Let me give you another example,

Cody’s gone at school all the time, but I never have to share the TV.

Your turn.

My husband feels this story needs to be told.

I don’t feel that it needs to be, given that it is just another everyday occurrence in the life of being me.

I have flown solo with the moosh on at least two dozen separate flights (Dear Airlines, THANKS FOR ALL THE DIRECT FLIGHTS TO INDIANA, REALLY. Suck it, Casey) and during these two dozen flights I’ve learned that as soon as you put people on airplanes 90% of those people will become jackasses if they weren’t one already. Cody has flown with us three times and only once has he flown solo with the moosh.

Oy, if I could only tell you the number of times people were unwilling to move one row back so that I could sit with my kid. When someone rudely refused to trade me seats on a flight last year a dozen spring break frat boys almost jumped the guy and used his head for a pinata. Another time when the moosh and I were booked in different aisles I was left with no choice but to plunk down her bag of toys with her in the seat and walk away. Only then did Mr. Businessman realize I was serious.

So on Tuesday I entered a full plane, well, full except for every middle seat. The flight attendant told me to start asking around to see who wanted to trade. I took one look at those cold eyes staring back at me and made an announcement “You can sit with my four year old, or you can trade me seats.” I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was only trying to be efficient.

Cody on the other hand was mortified that I would YELL! in my SHRILL! MOM! VOICE! at unassuming passengers and he also thinks I’m quite lucky I didn’t get kicked off the plane.

Not a single person volunteered. At least I was able to get out of the way that the entire front half of flight 1815 were oblivious or jerks instead of having to go row to row asking for either mercy or babysitting. 

I’ll have you know I am a very nice person to fly with. My kid has manners and entertains herself. Except for that one time that I shoved an old lady out of the way in Chicago, I would like to think that I have been nothing but nice to anyone lucky enough to be on the same plane as me.

However Cody had me sit two rows away so he didn’t have to be associated with the crazy yelling plane lady.

Whatever, he loves me so much he can barely stand it.

Personally it’s the crazies that make flights fun, if anyone needs to be kicked off it’s the fools who turn into complete horses asses upon entering the jetway.

Anyway, that’s the story. 

The end.

One picture everyday for one year. 

I’m not calling it a resolution. Resolutions suck.

I’m calling it a challenge. 

I’m sick and tired of looking at everyone else’s photos and whining, “Why is everyone so much better than I am?”

Shut up, I have insecurities. Lots of them, and photography is one of them.

But I am doing something about it.

One picture everyday for a year. Over there, in my sidebar. And in its own group on flickr.

Be prepared to watch me not fail.

I used to make a grand list of resolutions. Lose 10 lbs., write a book, complete a triathlon…crap like that.

I then became a little more realistic. Get to the weight on my driver’s license, stop using four letter words and run a mile without wanting to die.

Then reality kicked in and my resolutions followed suit. Find good smelling fabric softener and make my bed everyday. I actually did pretty well at these two. So the following year my resolution was that I resolved myself to keep my previous year’s resolutions.

Out of my fabric softener resolution came a pseudo holiday in the land of moosh.

Fabric softener day.

One day, about every other month, I would use the last of my fabric softener and would get to buy a new bottle and/or box. Oh how I looked forward to fabric softener day. Every other month Snuggle, Bounce and Downy would come out with new ways to entice me to try their newest concoction of clean laundry bliss.

Snuggle Blue Sparkle and Downy Cashmere something in the light orange bottle have always remained front runners.

So here I am.

December 31st.

I think it’s time I move on from fabric softener and a made bed.

So here goes.

In 2009 I will not make myself feel guilty for not having resolutions.

Oh I have them, resolutions. I have about seven. But I’m not going to utter them out loud.

Blissful ignorance 2009!

(Speaking of Blissful. I’m speaking at the Blissdom Conference February 6-7, 2009 in Nashville, TN. Wanna go? Last day for early bird pricing on registration and hotel is today.)

Cody has four sisters. No brothers. Cody has one wife and one daughter, no sons. I distinctly remember walking through the grocery store with him tossing my feminine products in the air like a football, that’s when I realized how awesome a boy who grew up with nothing but girls could be.

This is Cody’s baby sister. (He is the second oldest.)

I took her pictures for practice and for her birthday. Which is today.

Happy Birthday Olivia!

She made it through high school with a 4.0. She made it through her undergrad with a 4.0. She made it through graduate school with a 3.8. She has a job as on the tax team at a very affluent company. She just passed her CPA exam. She owns her own home. Pays her own bills.

Today? She turns 23.

I know.

…no one can deny the sparkle of this season.

I hope you are all somewhere safe and warm with the ones you love.

I know I am, and for this I am grateful.

Happy Birthday Jesus.

While I could give you a list of “chores” I abhor and avoid until absolutely necessary, I could just as easily give you a list of “chores” that I secretly get excited about. Or better yet, how to get me to do chores at your house without even asking.

1. Leave your clean laundry out in a pile. I will fold it. I love to fold laundry. I know of at least seven people who read this blog who can attest to my love of laundry folding.

2. Doing laundry. Some people are squicked out at the idea of someone else doing their laundry. I’ll do it in a heartbeat because I know at the end I will get to fold it. And smell it. Clean laundry smell. Mmmm. The whole process is made even better by Soap Nuts from Laundry Tree. I got samples from BlogHer in July and have been loyal ever since. My sister and I have both been known to find excuses to do laundry we love it so much. Sick. I know.

3. Vacuuming. Well, not my house. I have a circa 2000 Hoover vacuum that smells like burnt hair whenever it is turned on. But I’ll vacuum your house. If you have a Dyson. Both my dad and my MIL have Dysons and I have been known to purposely spill things for an excuse to use their Dysons. It also gives me a sick sense of satisfaction that even though my MIL keeps an incredibly tidy house, the Dyson will suck up things from her carpet no one ever knew existed. Kind of like seeing the perfectly popular girl with lipstick on her teeth. I stroke them everytime I pass one in a store whispering “someday, someday.”

4. Ironing. Did you just hear my husband snort? That’s because I don’t really iron HIS shirts. They’re so big and there’s so many and his pants with the cuffs and the pleats and let’s just say he now knows why dry cleaners are in business. But I do like to iron. When I knew Cody was going to be going to law school and that law stuff involves fancier clothes than jeans I figured I had better invest in a good iron so I didn’t dread ironing when I had to do it. I have this Rowenta iron. And whoo. It’s good. 

Now. Is there someone out there who loves to do dishes and mop the floor? Because those are the things I dread and put off as long as possible. Let me know, I’m really into starting a whole Canadian/American border blogger commune with a Target and really good health care.