Whoop! Whoop!

To many, that’s hip hop lingo for something (don’t ask me, do I look hip hop to you?).  But here in the Gale household, that’s a double case of Whooping Cough (aka, pertussis). 

Yes, Ben and I are infected.  We are gross, sickly people.

I have had a cold for the past two weeks and it has been progressively getting worse.  Yesterday I finally raised the white flag (or kleenex, in my case) and dragged myself in to the doctor.  All he needed was to hear one cough and he sent me on my way with an antibiotic prescription.  45 minutes later, Ben followed in my sickly foot steps.

I’m certain that our sweet boy brought home this nasty affliction from preschool.  Did he have anything besides a minor cold?  No.  Of course, he has received immunization shots for Pertussis.  Apparently Ben and I aren’t up to date on our boosters. 

I used to get perfect attendance awards from my workplace for not having any sick days.  These were, of course, the years prior to having a child in daycare/school.

Why am I airing my dirty germs on the internet instead of just staying in bed?  Quite honestly, I am looking for sympathy.

Sympathy because not only will we spend the next four days coughing up our lungs, but we’ll be doing it while unpacking boxes.

Tomorrow we move into our new house.  We finally get our shipment from Germany.  Stuff that we haven’t seen in over two months.  We have been living out of suitcases since the middle of December and that’s getting really old.  And on Friday, we get the stuff that has been in storage for nearly the last three  years (stuff we didn’t take to Germany with us). 

So this should be an exciting time for us in the Gale family and all I can muster is “cough, cough.”

Happy Valentine’s Day

Carter made a very nice valentine for me and Ben today at school.  It’s a handprint on a heart.  The teacher asked him what message he wanted to include.

Here’s a close up so you can see the heartfelt message…

Fortunately Ben is a good sport and isn’t taking it too personally.  I can’t say that I would do the same…in fact, I’m sure I would be in tears.

Home Owners Again!

It’s official.  We are home owners again.  We closed on our new house today.

Of course nothing is without a few surprises or glitches along the way.  First off, we did a final walk through the house immediately prior to our closing appointment.  The previous owner left behind quite a few things:  artwork (not my taste), barstools (also not my taste), a vacuum cleaner that smells like it’s about to catch fire when being used, a washer and dryer from the 1980s, and a refrigerator. 

The fridge was a big surprise because it was not part of the offer and it’s really nice.  It’s a relatively new stainless steel refrigerator but, since we weren’t expecting it, we had already ordered a new one.  I guess our back up basement fridge will be the one he left behind.  Certainly nicer than what we would have picked for our second fridge.

The washer and dryer being left behind is just an irritant.  Clearly we don’t want them and so now we have to dispose of them.  Obviously we will donate to The Salvation Army or Purple Heart or Habitat for Humanity (and are happy to do so) but really it’s one more thing that we didn’t want to have to deal with.

Finally, the closing itself.   Ben and I were all stressed out that our electronic transfers from some of our accounts wouldn’t make it to our local bank in time to get the certified check for the closing.  After much stress and moving of money, we were OK.  [however, I will never understand why electronic transfers are not instantaneous!]  After all that stress, the closing still nearly didn’t happen.  The network/internet at the title company was down and they didn’t have the documents printed out that we needed to sign.  I think Ben and I sat in the conference room at the title company for over two hours.  They kept promising us “just another 15 minutes.” 

In the end, it all worked out and now we are home owners again. 

Anyone interested in a 25 year old washer & dryer set?

Poopy Pants + Mind Your Own Business

Carter pooped in his pants today.  Quite possibly the first time ever.  I’m not sure in all the potty training time if he ever pooped his pants.  Sure there were plenty of wet accidents…I just don’t seem to remember any dirty ones.  Maybe it’s just selective memory.

Carter and I were spending some time at a book store while Daddy was next store doing some grocery shopping.  I’m a little burnt out on some of his books right now so I thought it would be a nice treat (for both of us) to get him some new books.    This was also going to be a consolation prize for him after spending over an hour with us at the tile store.  Carter was such a good sport while Ben and I hemmed and hawed over which tile would look best in our new bathroom.  

Nothing like dirty drawers to bring everything to a screeching halt.

So, we were in the bookstore and had just walked over to the kid’s section.  Not only is there a HUGE selection of books, but there are fun toys and a train table all set up.  Carter ran right over and played for a whole 2 minutes before “it” happened.  He walked over to me and said, “I have to go potty.”  As we were making our way over to the restrooms, I noticed Carter was walking with a strange gait.  “Carter, are we too late?” I asked.  The answer:

“Mommy, I have poop in my underwear.”

*sigh*

I'll spare you the details of the clean up.

I now have a pounding headache.  I need a drink.  Unfortunately, there is no liquor store attached to the bookstore, but there is a Starbuck’s.  Close enough.

Me:  Medium, non-fat caramel macchiato, please.

Barista:  Sure.  Would you like a double chocolate brownie with that, today?

Me:  No thank you.  Just the coffee.

Carter:  Mommy, can I have a cookie, please?

Me: Absolutely not.

Barista:  We have chocolate chip…

Me:  No thank you.

Carter: Please, Mommy.

Me: No!

Barista:  Oh, doesn’t he look sad.

Me: (giving him the stink eye) Just the coffee, please.

I'm sure you can imagine the rest of the conversation, including the hushed whispers I had with Carter reminding him of his dirty drawers from two minutes prior. 

Clearly this idiot behind the counter of the bookstore Starbucks does not have any children of his own, nor has he ever interacted with young children.  Because if he did (or had), he would have never tried to undermine me.

Why can’t people just mind their own business?

Nothing Says “Welcome Home” Quite Like…

…a certified letter from the IRS saying “you’ve been audited.”  It’s like a big, warm hug from the US Government.

We came home from work on Wednesday evening to a note in our mailbox.  The postal worker was kind enough to leave us a note saying we had a certified letter from the IRS requiring our signature waiting at the local post office. 

Somehow I knew right away that it wasn’t a fat refund check.  I’m pretty sure those don’t come certified mail.

Do you think I got much sleep on Wednesday night?  Do you think I was maybe just a wee bit distracted at work on Thursday?

While standing in line at the post office after work, the guy behind me struck up conversation.  He had two notices for packages from Amazon that required signatures.  He admitted that he didn’t even know what they were and found it odd he had to sign for the unknown.  I offered to trade with him.  I would be happy to sign for the unknown.  I would gladly take that risk.  Unfortunately, he turned me down. 

Upon receipt of my mail, I quickly walked ran back to my car where I ripped open the letter.  My 2007 tax return had been “reviewed.” And, in case I wasn’t sure what that really meant, the IRS was kind enough to put “audited” in parentheses after “reviewed.”   Oh, thank you, I wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

Per the IRS, I owed an additional $420 plus $21 in interest.  Geez, if you are going to audit me, please do so in a timely matter so that my interest charges aren’t so high.  Is that too much to ask?

This morning I had several phone calls with members of my Deloitte tax team.  These are the brilliant people that Ford has hired to help me with my taxes as an International Service Employee.  In theory, this is great because I would have no idea how to go about filing taxes from outside of the country.  Too many crazy rules and crazy things that Ford does to compensate us for our time outside of the US.  However, in practice, Ben and I have learned that our tax advisors are by no means tax experts. 

Around lunch time, I received a phone call from Ed, the guy who filed my 2007 taxes on my behalf (NOTE: this is not the same guy who filed my 2008 taxes nor is he the guy who will file my 2009 taxes…why have consistency?).

Ed:  I have good news and bad news.

Me:  Ok, the good news…

Ed:  The fax you sent me came through.

Me:  That’s the good news?

Ed:  The bad news is that the IRS is right.  You do owe them money.

Me:  Why?  How did that happen?

Ed:  Well, we didn’t really look at your husband’s W2 completely and so we missed some things when we filed for you.  There’s nothing we can do now.  You’ll just have to pay them.

Me: (too stunned at this whole conversation to come up with anything useful) Um, OK.  Thanks.  Good-bye.

Later, when I could gather my thoughts again without cursing, I did call Deloitte back to make sure they will cover the $21 in interest.