Red, white and awesome.

It is my firm belief that there are 3 things that can elevate a woman's sense of self confidence in a nanosecond or less.

1) Red high heels.

2) White teeth.  

3) The right attitude.

Last Friday night, I donned all three (courtesy of a recent Crest Whitestrips application and Chinese Laundry red patent heels) for a night on the town with friends.

Because there should always be a reason to celebrate, we were toasting away the evening to my bff, Caitlin, who is packing up and moving to DC now that she's a lawyer to do grown up things for Obama. Or something.

Anyway, a splendid time was had by all. And I did shots with a polar bear--a feat even Charlie Sheen might envy. True story.

Sneak preview.

TWO. Alex is going to be 2 years old in 2 weeks. And I am in serious denial about it.

I did, however, have my wits about me enough to schedule his 2 year portraits with the lovely and fabulous Suzanne from Suzanne Upton Photography. Here's a sneak preview of his glam session:

Gasp. He is cute beyond words. Additionally, I would like a moment of jealousy for mothers of girls who can use tutus and flowers as picture props. I will forever be relegated to the airplane/matchbox/mud/bugs world. Secretly, though, I love it.

Can't wait to see the rest!

Opposites attract.

Here's a fun marital fact you might not know about the VeeDubs: we have separate checking accounts.

And we have no intention of ever changing that.

I realize for some couples, this would mean the beginning of the end. But for us, it works. I spend my money. He spends his. We split home and other expenses. He pays the mortgage and insurance and I pay TV/Internet, water, gas, electric & phone. We take turns on daycare, gas, Fran, groceries, dinner out, etc. Credit cards? Those are separate, too.

I'm not sure if it's something I'm proud to admit, but we've never really done a budget. Like, we both have a ballpark number in our heads about what we save vs. spend, but it's never been nerd-official in a spreadsheet or anything.

That's the part that is changing.

We met with a Realtor on Friday and are structuring the next year of our life around saving, saving, saving. And not just on handsoap. Even in this shit-for-housing market, we're taking the steps necessary to sell our house smartly and move into something with a little more room to grow. We want to be there in 12 months, so it's an agressive, but do-able, plan. But it must be budgeted to ensure success.

In my mind, a budget is as follows: How much do I make? How much do I spend? What's left over?

In Joey's mind, this is a budget:

This is a REAL screenshot in Excel from Joey's "2011 VW budget planner." Honestly, you could line item this shit to the point of knowing when I bought my last tube of MAC lipglass and maybe even what shade it was. Also, there is actual brain matter splattered on my desk from looking at this thing.

I am sure that somewhere in the middle of both of our ideas is probably a healthy place to be in budgetland. What I'm not sure of, however, is how we'll get there.

S-S-S-Savings.

A few days ago I was choring around the house (made-up verb meaning "to do chores," not to be confused with whoring) and I discovered that the soap dispenser in the bathroom needed refilling.

So, I opened the linen closet and pulled out the GIANT Softsoap refill. Much to my surprise, the bottle was nearly empty. In fact, this particular refill used up my entire stash.

This might not seem like anything out of the ordinary until you know the backstory...

Elevently billion years ago (read: five), I was trying to court the pants (literally and figuratively) off of one Joe Van Wormer by impressing him with my cash savviness. You know, something along the lines of, "I'm great wife material because I know how to shop and save!" Or something.

For instance, I persuaded him for the first time ever to buy an article of clothing from any store other than Macy's at retail. He proudly sported some new Old Navy digs, shoes from DSW and a few name brand pieces from Marshall's and TJ Maxx.

Homie quickly caught on that sales, couponing and being a savvy shopper was clearly the way to go. You could say I changed him.

He drew the line at Wal*Mart, though.

Save one night when I convinced him to just "pop in" to get some odds-n-ends health and beauty stuff.

He needed soap for his bathroom, so as I perused the mascara selection he jolted a few aisles over and brought back a small refill bottle. Retail cost: $3.89.

"Why don't you just get the giant refill bottle to save money?"

"Because it's giant and I like this one."

I convinced him (albeit begrudgingly) to buy the refill bottle for less than $1 more, which also had about 17x more soap and was stored nicely in the linen closet until just a few days ago.

So it is with a saver's heart and a little smugness that I report that over the course of the last five years I have saved this man roughly $50 (assuming he would have needed 1 small refill bottle each month). Not to mention the plastic waste impact on the environment!

I think I just threw my back out patting myself on the back.

Vlog it like you stole it.

Days of the week with a mouthful o' cookies. Because obviously, cookies are a priority.



Counting to 26...more or less. Fingers can be distracting.



Animal noises. Clearly, we love monkeys.

Sam-e-oh and the bear.

My little mister Sam-e-oh turned 1 month old on March 13. Where does the time go?

And for fun, here's a look back at Alex's 1 month with the WIPpo.

Is it just me or does Sam-e-oh look more...advanced? Like, say...more like Alex's 2 month picture?

No? Just me? Mmmkay.

Hockey people confuse me.

Specifically, my husband.

Last night, for instance, we had the pleasure of attending a Detroit Red Wings hockey game. They were great seats given to us by a friend, so naturally Joey was beside himself. Like a kid in a candy store. Peeing his pants, almost.

And then the game started.

I was the only female within a 50 mile radius of our section, and also the only person not providing a personal blow-by-blow of the game. They all talk to themselves! And when they think they're being extra smart/witty/funny, they say things louder to ensure others around them can hear and be impressed by their profound sports knowledge. Joey may or may not have also performed a magnificent solo air guitar number between the 1st and 2nd periods. This is how evolution happened, I'm sure of it.

In the end, the Wings won, I had beer and nachos and made a new friend. Aka the douche next to me that was texting his girlfriend the entire night about how "epic" her boobs were. Yes, this happened.

Additionally, I'm horrible at cell phone self-portraits. And I like beer.

Bracketology.

Because this is simply how I roll.

Prayers for Johnathan.

Today I'm asking for prayers from the blogosphere.

Prayers for a friend of a friend who today will bury her 3 year old son, Jonathan in his fuzzy, footed pajamas.

Please lift his entire family in prayer and ask God to surround his mother, father, brothers, grandparents, friends and family with grace, understanding and peace during a time when finding that strength is seemingly impossible.

No mother should ever have to bury a child - not even if she's 100 and the child is 80. It should never happen. Never.

Prayers for baby Johnathan today.

C. All of the above.

As you may recall from this post, Alex is pretty spectacular when it comes to answering questions and getting the answer right.

So last night when Joe and I were struggling with a restaurant selection for dinner, we naturally turned to our brilliant son to narrow our two finalists down to one.

"Alex, do you want Five Guys or Logan's?"

"Logan's."

Another test, just to be sure.

"Alex, do you want Logan's or Five Guys?"

"Five Guys."

Hmmph.

"Alex, do you want steak or hamburgers?"

"Hamburgers."

"Alex, do you want hamburgers or steak?"

"Steak."

'Twould appear that our little smartiebucket was just selecting the second option we gave him. So Joe tried another test...

"Alex, who do you love more, Daddy or Mommy?"

"Mommy."

"Alex, who do you love more, Mommy or Daddy?"

"Mommy."

BOO YEAH.

_______________________

And because smart kids wear suspenders, here's an extra helping of cute for you today.

Ice breaker.

So I have this "friend"...let's call her Misty.

Anyway, Misty has a toddler, and he was recently playing in the baptismal font at his Great-Grandmother's funeral and accidentally bumped into the casket, causing a photo that was propped up on the lid to fall over onto the deceased.

Cue loud GASPS from the crowd.

In a heat of panic, Misty scooped up the toddler and took him over near his Great-Grandmother and they both said, "Sorry, Grandma."

Cue "Awwwws" and laughter from the crowd.

Disaster averted.

Together again.

My Grandma T. went to join my Grandpa in Heaven last night. Her health has been ailing for awhile, so I am at peace knowing she's in a better place and finally reunited with her hubby of 60+ years.

Grandma was a very strong woman who raised her family the ol' fashioned, rough-and-tumble, on the farm kind of way. She was a fantastic knitter (is that a word?) and the blankets and booties she made for our family will be treasured keepsakes for years to come. She had a love of Extra spearmint gum (always hidden in the kitchen cupboard behind the plates) and was a whiz at solitaire and crosswords. She was an excellent baker, but my favorite of all her treats will always be gullets (a Hungarian waffle cookie). She raised 4 crazy (and I do mean crazy...) boys who all grew up to be wonderful men. They each married and started families of their own, and in all, her legacy currently totals 13 grandchildren (+10 spouses) and 11 great-grandchildren.

Today we celebrate her long, blessed life and the family that all started with her. We love you, Gram!

A healthy colon is a happy colon.

This morning for breakfast I had 3 cups of coffee and a Fiber One Bar.

You do the math on what that did to my insides.

Like peanut buttah 'n jell-ay.

One night last week, after a particularly exhausting 12 hours at work, Joey waltzes out of the kitchen with a dishrag in hand and says, "I think you should blog about how I'm obsessed with our kitchen and bathroom and always keep them so clean."

**Kristi glances up from iPad, unamused.**

Joey, stammering: "And, well, you could say how you're obsessed with laundry and that we, like, go together really well because I keep the kitchen and bathroom really clean and you do the laundry."

**Kristi glances back to iPad, even more unamused.**

Because, my friends, this is an eversocharming example of how my husband loves to fish. Not for Salmon, though he does love that. For compliments.

Let the earth and its people know that I have probably only ever washed 3 dishes in my married life. I only know how to work the dishwasher because sometimes he goes out of town and I run out of paper plates. And I don't even know where he keeps the scrubamudubs with which to clean the shower and loo. And yes, I occasionally wash a load of underpants. You know, hit a few buttons and measure some soap.

Yes, friends. I have the greatest husband on earth. And I think he wants you to know it.