Pet Chronology!

When I was growing up, we didn’t have any animals at our house. My mom would tell us she wasn’t going to take care of an animal, which my brother and I interpreted as no animals allowed. I always tell people when I was growing up I didn’t have a dog, a cat, a bird or a fish, I had a brother.

So once I got married Dave and decided to venture into the animal world and try our hand. We figured we would start with an animal and then maybe move on to kids.

We started with a cat right after we got married. That lasted about a week when I came home from work and Dave’s eyes were almost swollen shut from allergies. So I decided to stick with the new husband and the cat went back to the pound.

Then came Daisy dog. She wasn’t our dog, we got her for my dad for his birthday so he wouldn’t feel like an empty nester. She was such a good dog and we couldn’t have picked a better companion for my dad. They went everywhere together and she was very loyal. People would ask if my dad seat belted her into the car, because she would sit in the passenger seat of his truck like a person and not move. For several months while my parents were moving, Daisy came to live at our house in Missouri. When it came time for her to go back to Salt Lake my parents drove out to visit and pick her up. On the last day of their visit as we were packing the car, Daisy climbed into the backseat of the car and just sat down. There was no way on earth she was going to let my dad leave without making sure he was took her with him. Daisy died in September 2007.

Baxter was my first official pet. The Boo Bear as he was called was such a good dog. Dave got him for me for our first anniversary. Baxter could bay with the best of them, and loved to have family sing-a-longs. He also loved to eat. I must admit he was a little on the pudgy side, but it just added to his charm. His other nick name was the “Boover” because after you were done eating he would suck any last crumb off of you he could find. He was happiest just snuggled up at your feet, licking them if you would let him. And despite his girth he was always willing to go for a walk. Baxter died in January 2008.

After we got Baxter we moved into our house and got Cerebus. And if ever there was a dog that loved Dave it was Cere. Her little world revolved around Dave. Once while I was holding and petting her Dave walked into the room. I still have the scare on my leg from her racing to be with him. She would sit and lick on Dave all day long if he would let her. I would ask for a kiss and she would give me a paltry little lick to placate me and go back to Dave. I always got the impress she just put up with me and I was the one sleeping in the bed next to Dave where she thought she rightfully belonged. Cerebus died in January 2003.

After Cerebus died, I was happy just having Baxter, but Dave really wanted another dog, so we got Zoe. Now Zoe was a force unto herself. She was loyal beyond anything and she loved Dave and I, but beyond that she didn’t like people or other dogs. Zoe would get really anxious around other people and she didn’t always handle her anxiety well. When we had visitors we had to watch her really close and advised the visitor to never turn their back on her. She bit a couple of people superficially. Zoe put up with Hayden because we made her, but she would rather he hadn’t ever come to live at our house. We talked about getting another dog after Baxter died, but decided Zoe would probably kill any new dogs we tried to introduce to the family. Zoe was hit by a car while we were on vacation. If I never see another dog hit by a car it will be too soon. Zoe died in July 2008.

And then there were a couple of months we were dog free, and though I missed the dogs, I was content not having a dog and worrying about vet bills or boarding and such. But in September while I was eyebrow deep in preparation for a trial, Dave and Hayden decided they wanted a new dog. Plus Hayden would drag one of us over to Dana’s house (see Me the Bad Neighbor below) to see her dog, which was never a good thing. So I explained to Dave if he wanted to get a dog, I would be unable to help with the dog until after my trial was completed. I also explained I did not want a puppy. So we went looking when I had a free hour or two and found this beautiful little beagle mix at a local shelter. I love beagles. We put our name down and went through their interview process, but were denied adoption because we worked and the dog would be home alone to much and dogs are social animals. Yah, whatever. So Dave and Hayden looked around and found some cute puppies at another shelter and fell in love. They picked out Daphne and brought her home.

So Daphne (named after the character from Scooby-Doo) is our dog. She is quite the intrusive dog and bigger than any of our other dogs (excluding Daisy). She is very jealous of Hayden, but they are the best of friends and inseparable. One minute he is calling her the “Damn Dog” (he got that from me, not one of my proudest moments) and saying Daphne’s my dog. She has calmed down a lot in the last couple of months and is becoming quite a good dog. I never realized how anxious I would get when people visited because of Zoe, but now with Daphne she is so social it is nice not to have to worry. She does provide some funny moments also. Last week we had a pretty bad thunderstorm during the night, with the kind of thunder that shakes the windows. The boys both slept right through it, but Daphne was all panicked and would stick her head under the bed and howl. So I was annoyed at her waking me up, but it was to funny watching her with her head under the bed.


So for better or worse, Daphne is our dog and we love her. My desire for another beagle is growing stronger, but I keep telling myself I only want one dog at a time.

Twelve Years Ago Today!

Twelve years ago today Dave irrevocably tied his life to mine. Silly man! And I wouldn’t trade any day of that time. We’ve had good days and we have most definitely had bad days, but I love that man more today than I did on this day in 1997.

Dave is such a good man and I am amazed sometimes at how lucky I was to find him. I am so proud of him and all that he has overcome in his life mostly do to his family and his self esteem. He is such a good father and his patience with both me and the kids amazes me. It is because of his willingness to support me that I can do the things I do no matter how crazy the idea. He has opened my eyes to a whole world of foods I never would have tried (not always a good thing for my waist line, but always very tasty.)

So today I am grateful for this man and all that he does for me.

For the love that he gives me, the life that he shares and just for being himself.

Our engagement photo. Look at all that hair on his head. I forgot it was once that color!

Tacky People & Free Will

This story has too parts, first tacky people and second free will.

There is this mailbox in my neighborhood that I drive by Monday through Friday twice a day. Every time I drive by this mailbox I just have to shake my head. This mailbox is the tackiest thing in the world (in my opinion) and I would never be caught dead with it or anything like it in my front yard. It is a dolphin holding the mail box. I’m sure these people are very nice, and I’m sure they like dolphins an awful lot. But please isn’t there a line that just shouldn’t be crossed. I’m thinking they crossed that line. But again it is just my opinion and so everyday when I drive by this mailbox I just shake my head.

A couple of weeks ago I was driving by the above mentioned tacky mailbox and my heart just broke. Someone had taken something very hard and smashed the mailbox statue into several pieces. This made me absolutely sick. I couldn’t imagine anyone who was so selfish and simple minded as to do such a thing. Like I said earlier I think the mailbox is tacky beyond belief, but it is these peoples right to have a tacky mailbox if they so desire. I was so angry and sad by such a petty act, probably by someone who thought it was the funniest joke ever and who was having a great laugh over it. Since the incident the statue/mailbox has been put back together and repainted to look like new. I was grateful to these tacky people for doing this and not letting such a senseless act deter them and for standing up for their right to have a tacky object in their front yard.

So once again I can drive by their house and shake my head at how tacky their mailbox is and wonder why people do the things they do.

Office Supplies - Love'em or Hate'em

I love office supplies. I’m sick, I know this, but office supplies just make me happy. I love to walk around in Staples or Office Depot and just look at and touch office supplies. I think about buying them, but do draw the line at only actually buying the things I need. But “need” can be so arbitrary. I love Hobby Lobby and scrapbook stores too. Paper is just so fun. I must admit I like the idea and concept of scrapbooking, and I even have all the paraphernalia to be a scrapbooker, but I don’t always make it to the implementation phase.

I have started Hayden’s scrapbook/babybook and almost have the first five months of his life done (He’s only going to be four soon.) I have a whole area downstairs devoted to my crafts and paper fetish. I love spending time down there when I can find it, which isn’t all that often. So paper is my favorite, but I like staplers, folders, pens, glue, post-its, markers, erasers, tape dispensers and a myriads of other office and crafty related items. I was at Target the other day and with the back to school specials I couldn’t control myself and bought a few things.

I occasionally share them with Hayden, like the twisty crayons above are supposed to be for him. We’ll see. So now it is out of the bag, I love office supplies.

Interviews & Promotions

Last week I was asked to sit on an interview panel at work for agents like myself who are applying for the GS-13 position. I fortunately enough got my 13 a couple of years ago after applying for it several times. The 13 process is one I struggle with, but understand the need for in the long run.

Basically a special agent will get a promotion from whatever GS level they are hired at to the next level every year until they get to be a GS-12. At that point they go up a step within that GS level each year. Once you have been a 12 for a year you are eligible to apply for a GS-13 position, which is supposed to be a competitive position. Ultimately you are still a special agent no matter what GS level you are at; you just get more money for doing the same job the hire up your GS number. This is sometime a heated topic when someone gets a 13 and someone else does not.

In years past each Field Office would decide when to announce the GS-13 positions and each candidate had to complete a lengthy narrative of eight questions called KSA's (knowledge, skills and abilities) which basically talked about all you had accomplished in your career and how wonderful you were. You would send these into Washington DC and a panel or someone ranks them and decides if you meet the BQ (Best Qualified) list. If you BQ'ed your name was then submitted to your local Field Office, Special Agent in Charge (SAC) and the Assistant Special Agent in Charge's (ASAC) who made the ultimate decision.

When I originally applied for my 13 way back in the day I had to complete my KSA's. I didn't make the BQ list the first year. The second year I did, but was not give a 13 for whatever reason. Despite the fact everyone who was a firearms coordinator was given one, even those with less time and experience than me. But I digress, and I'm not bitter, anymore. The following year I didn't make the BQ list again with the exact same KSA's. What the heck! Needless to say I was quite upset as was my supervisor at the time.

The following year they changed the process and it was an online process. When the announcement came out nationwide (once a year) you completed the main application by answering multiple choice questions about your career to date. Based on these answers it was determined if you made the BQ list at which point your name was submitted to the FO and you had to go through a panel interview and perform a writing exercise. My interview was with the SAC and two ASAC's at the time. The mock interview I did prior to the real thing did not prepare me for the actual interview by any means. After the interview I remember leaving and thinking I had done okay on the writing, but had totally bombed the interview and I probably wouldn't be getting my 13 again. Later that week I got a call to come to the SAC's office and was told they were giving me my GS-13 because they knew what I was capable of as an agent and my supervisor was really rooting for me. (Thanks again Rich!)

So after applying and applying and applying, I finally got it.

So now to last week and sitting in on the panel interviews. It was the same questions I was given the last time I applied. My heart when out to these agents as I remember being in their exact shoes. My struggle being on the panel was of all the candidates there were four people from my post of duties. These are people that I know and work with on a regular basis and even sometimes socialize with outside of the office. I wanted to help them so much, but in the interest of being fair I had to take a step back. To see them struggle through the answers was so difficult and it was so hard to put my own feelings aside in my final evaluation. In the end I was surprised at the people I thought would do so well either failed, or only barely did okay and the ones I didn't expect much out of soared.

I wanted to pass each one of the candidates for just making it to the interview process and feel so bad that some of them will be told they didn't get their 13. I remember being sad and angry and hurt each time I was denied what I thought I had earned. It was hard to put down a "no" for someone who has been an agent for several years and been through the 13 process several times, but just doesn't seem to have the on the job experience necessary. It was just as hard to put "yes" for the agent who is applying for their first time but has all the experience a 13 needs.

This week the results will be announced. I know there will be smiles and congratulations for some, and heartache and anger for others. I know I may be blamed, but I also know I was honest with my decisions and recommendations.

And ultimately this was a good opportunity for my career. Not that I want to be a Supervisory Special Agent right now, but the schmooze factor of being asked to do the interviews by our SAC when she could have chosen so many others, and working with the two ASAC's was an opportunity I could not pass up.

Sprinkers

Hayden is trully a water baby. He would spend all day in the water if we would let him. As it has been rather warm here in St. Louis the last couple of days, we have been watering our lawn and Hayden will run through the sprinkler as a last resort. As I was watching him the other day, I took this picture and I love how the light and water worked together in this picture.

Hayden occassionally gets me to run through the sprinklers with him, though I just do it in my shorts and t-shirt. It is still quite fun. When we were kids, my brother and I, had this clown head that you hooked the hose up to and the spray of water would send the clowns hat up into the air. It wouldn't work on windy days, and if you got in the way the hat coming down could give you a pretty good goose egg on the head. But we had many a fun days and summers running around playing with that clown's head and getting soaked to the bone. I wonder whatever happened to that clown?

Oh the joys of being young. That is one of the blessing of having children, they bring the simple joys of childhood back, if you can take just a moment away from being an adult.

IRS Special Agents

This is an article that appeared in The Big Money an online magazine. It talks about IRS Special Agents and what they do and how to become one. As this is what I am and how I make a living I thought I would post this here for posterity.

Drop That 1040 Form!
The badass IRS agents you’ve never heard of.
By Chadwick Matlin
Posted Tuesday, April 14, 2009 - 5:31pm

Here's a pitch for the next great TV procedural: The main characters are a group of eight special agents burrowed inside of the seedy underbelly of Manhattan's criminals. These investigators are just a fraction of the 2,600 crime-fighting agents nationwide—a cadre of highly trained professionals who have no equal in American law enforcement. They follow up on leads, go undercover, and execute search warrants, all in the hope of bringing a little more justice to America. And, yes, there will be drug busts. The characters won't be cookie-cutter gruff cops as on all the other police dramas. No, all of our agents will have a quirk nobody sees coming:

They're accountants.

I'm talking about IRS special agents—perhaps the most badass number crunchers on the planet. They work on classified cases, flash their badges when they go out on interviews, and testify in court. They're fully trained law enforcers, just like operatives from the FBI, DEA, and ICE. They just happen to have taken five semesters' worth of accounting classes, and they just happen to work for the IRS. Suggestions for the show's title are welcome, but for now we'll go with the only IRS term of art that also sounds like police-speak: 1040.

The special agents belong to a 4,000-strong segment of the IRS called the criminal investigation division. These aren't the jackboot auditors who caused trouble in the late '90s. These guys go after only the bad guys who display criminal intent. They're tasked with investigating any crime that skirts tax law, which essentially means any crime that involves money. They're the utility players of the federal law enforcement world, working with agents from a host of different departments to run busts on a host of different crimes. Samples of their exploits are available on the IRS Web site, but some highlights for you to get the feel of their beat: working with the DEA on drug busts (because the money exchanged in drug deals isn't taxed), working with the FBI on public corruption cases (because money has probably changed hands under the table), and working alone from exotic tax havens to bust tax evaders.

Job satisfaction, according to the IRS, is high. Most cases take anywhere from six months to two years, so the job never gets old. Special agents' daily routines vary between fieldwork and desk work. Just like regular cops, they spend hours poring over documents—in their case, financial—to try to assemble a case that can get them a search warrant. (That's why they need the accounting coursework.) The hope is to assemble enough evidence to force a confession—or to secure a search warrant by demonstrating a willful intent to break the law. Then you go get the sons of bitches who are robbing Uncle Sam of his rightful money.

The obvious question is why anybody would want to be a regular IRS agent if he could be an IRS special agent. Plenty don't. The waiting list runs as long as eight years to get into the program. Turnover is so low—only a handful of the 2,600 agents leave every year—that some accountants sign up for the program, pass all of the tests, and then sit on the waiting list for nearly a decade while they go about their normal lives. Then, eight years after first enrolling, they get a call that the IRS is ready for them. This, of course, assumes that the recruit in question has not, you know, started a life in the intervening time period.

And getting on the waitlist isn't easy, either. Most of the agents are not existing IRS employees but, rather, apply straight out of college. To qualify, you need a bachelor's degree, five semesters of accounting, and three semesters of finance/business/tax courses, and you must be under the age of 37. From there, you'll have to pass a drug test, a medical examination, a background investigation, a tax check, and an audit of your past three tax returns.

Then, once you get off the waiting list, you're sent to six months of training at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Georgia to learn alongside other federal agents.* You're taught how to handcuff, how to execute a search warrant, and, perhaps toughest of all, how to interpret criminal tax law. Once you graduate training, you're whisked off to an IRS outpost somewhere in the country (you don't have much choice where), and you'll work under the watchful eye of a mentor for two years. After that, you're no longer a rookie. You're a respected member of the force.

Even though interest is high, the criminal investigations division doesn't just wait for recruits to find it; it goes and finds the recruits. An IRS employee, who chose to remain anonymous because of IRS rules about talking to the media, told The Big Money that at a recent IRS conference the criminal investigations team had a table set up to try to convince employees from other divisions to become special agents. "Here, hold a gun!" the recruiters said to the passers-by. They had body armor, handcuffs, and fake pistols to play with and handed out promotional pamphlets advertising the program.

The pamphlets are a work of corporate art. The images inside emphasize teamwork and camaraderie between the recruits. There's an image of a line of special agents at target practice (that picture accompanies this article). There are other snapshots of everyone exercising together, competing on an obstacle course, and learning in a classroom. Then there are those that show special agents on the job: staking out a suspect's residence with binoculars, rummaging through financial files, and making a breakthrough with your colleagues as you stare at a laptop. It manages to illustrate all three acts of a really cheesy buddy-cop movie.

Above all, though, the brochure suggests that working for the IRS doesn't have to be boring. It can also be really edgy and exciting—especially when you get to carry around a gun.

Curls or no curls!

Just a quick note about Turners hair. If it stays straight, I'm okay with that, but he occassionally gets these little wisps of hair that flip up and it makes me really excited that he might have curly hair.

Singing Hearts

While trying to get back into my exercise routine, I took Hayden with me for a walk yesterday. As we were walking along there were several flags planted in the grass to mark water lines and other underground goings on. There was also a mosaic of coordinating colored lines spray painted on the ground to mark said goings on. Hayden was so cute as he plucked one flag after another up for his little collection. I would have felt bad about letting him take the flags, but they have been there for quite some time and they did have the coordinating spay paint lines.

While we were walking and talking and flag waving, my heart was so full of love for my sweet little boy and I told him, "Hayden, you make my heart sing." He kind of took this in stride and we continued on our way. As we got closer to the library, our destination, he found some additional flags of a color he did not have in his bouquet. After plucking one up and running back to me he said to me, "Mom, my heart is singing for you." He is such an incredible little boy. I know before he came along I had so much more time on my hands, but I wouldn't trade him for all the time in the world.

A thought from Abraham Lincoln

I got this in an email today and thought it was very insiteful.

It seems like this is what the church has always taught, but what the American people have moved so far away from.

Me the bad neighbor!

We have this lady that lives across the street from us. I call her the psycho religious lady as she is the one with the “Jesus” sign in her front yard and has a cross made out of flowers next to her mail box. People often stop and ask if something is buried under the cross, there isn’t anything. She is some kind of Methodist, but has been disillusioned by their stance on gay marriage, though she continues to attend their services as that is where her daughters goes. We’ve given her some LDS videos and she has had the missionaries visit many times prior to and since we moved in, but she is one of these people that believes it doesn’t matter what church as long as you are a believer.

Anyway I digress, a couple of months ago while I was home on maternity leave I was sitting outside on the driveway holding Turner, while Hayden was playing in his little pool. Dana, the psycho religious lady, came over with her camera and requested to take a picture of Tuner. I wasn’t real thrilled with the prospect as why would she want a picture of my child, but I agreed. She then proceeded to inform me she has been taking pictures of my family when we are out in our front yard. She does this while standing in the front room of her house. Needless to say this unnerved me just a little bit. She then tells me she wants to post the pictures on Snapfish. This totally weirded me out. Needless to say I can't go into my front yard anymore without full makeup and my hair done, just in case.



I hate to be rude or mean to anyone, but I’m really not a people person, and with Dana I have had to set some boundaries or she would be over at my house all the time. I don’t mind helping her out occasionally, but I feel like if I give her an inch she tries to take a yard, especially since Hayden came along. I feel bad for her as she has three daughters who live in the area, but never come over and I know I should be more compassionate, but sometimes it takes all I have to deal with my life of work and family and I don’t want to deal with her also. What to do? It’s not like Dave and I aren’t the first ones over to her house and shoveling her drive when it snows. But this is the same women who threatened to call DCFS on me when I was pregnant with Hayden because I was mowing the lawn and she didn’t think I should be (just a side note, I love mowing the lawn). This is also the same women who called me one Christmas several years ago and asked if I would come over and watch her open her Christmas presents. It wasn’t until I was over there that I realized they were all presents she had bought herself. So again I feel bad for her and struggle with wanting to be a good neighbor, but maintaining a balance which doesn’t interfere with my family.

My woes, at least for the moment.

Summer is truly over. I know this because I went to QuikTrip this morning to get my 49¢ soda and they are no longer 49¢. The upside is their hotdogs are now only 99¢. I love their hotdogs with just a squirt or two of ketchup. Yummmm!

We have a serious ant problem at my house. They are invading everything. Last year it got really bad, so this year when they started coming back we hired an outside service to come and spray. But they keep coming back. I hate ants!

My home computer has some malware on it. I’m not quite sure how this happened as we try to be so careful and even have the McAfee spyware, virus protector stuff on there. But this program keeps popping up saying my computer is unprotected and it send my web browser to a site that wants me to pay $49.95 to buy their Antispyware software because I have 35 something’s on my computer. Yah, like I’m going to give them my credit card information. I just want their program removed. I ran the McAfee and it says everything is fine, but I can’t get the other Antispyware thing to stop running and popping up every few seconds and it keeps opening the web browser to an adult porn site, not something I want in my house. I hate viruses and malware. Now I have to pay big bucks to have my computer cleaned. This stinks. And just after I got my web cam working.

Naming & Blessing

My parents and my brother and his wife came for a visit from Utah for ten days. Then Dave’s mom and her husband, Ivan, came with her mom, Lillian (Dave’s grandma) on Friday from Wisconsin. Dave’s sister Diana came up from Texas with her husband, Mark, and son, Caleb. Then on Sunday, August 2nd we had the naming and blessing of Turner at church and had a wonderful open house with friends and family at our house later in the day. For all this excitement and the great time that was had, I got one lousy picture. I had my camera out the whole time and just never got around to using it more than once. So here is a picture of Turner in his blessing outfit and his grandpa.

It was truly a wonderful day, and I am so grateful for all of the people that came together to support us. When all the priesthood holders walked to the front of the chapel to take part in the circle my heart was so full because of what wonderful people we have been blessed with in our lives, both friends and family.

Now everyone is gone and life is getting back to normal. The house is quiet and almost everything is put back to where it is supposed to be. Dave has started back to work and I took the boys to daycare this morning, it has been almost three months at home for Hayden and this is the very first time for Turner. Hayden was so excited to see his friends, Mai-mai and Adam. The people at the daycare barely let me through the door before Turner was out of his car seat. Good signs all around I guess, but still it was hard to leave them.

With reality setting in this means I have to really start my exercise

program and start running again. Just the thought makes me tired right now. But I have to pass my physical fitness test in September and I'm a little out of practice. I just need to find a little motivation. Maybe once I catch up on my sleep I'll find it again.