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Hey, it’s Cash! Since I’m just shy of my first birthday, this is my first guest post.

I’ll be honest – I’m not typing. I mean, how would I know how to type? I’m a baby. I’m actually dictating this post to my 9 year old sister who just loves getting on the computer.

(Umm.. Dylan, can you stop looking up photos of Niles and those other One Direction pansies and focus on this very important post.)

Anyway, my mother (the woman who last week drove off with the spare keys on her hood and now we can’t find them), was just named one of the 2014 Blogher Voices of the Year because of a guest post by my brother Chase.

I’m totally happy for my mother but why should my brother get all the glory?!

I’m the rock star over here.

cash on swingcash on swingcash on swing

You should hear everyone go on and on about how ridiculously cute and sweet I am. They keep throwing around this phrase, “good disposition” which must mean “doesn’t mind all that much when they leave me in my  high chair for 45 minutes before remembering to actually feed me.”

Meanwhile, my mom keeps trying to teach me how to clap, wave and open my arms to show I’m “SO BIG.” I want to tell her, “Mom, I’m your 5th kid. Why are you working so hard? Make yourself a cocktail and relax for minute. We’ll get to work on that clapping thing tomorrow. Friday at the latest.”

I really have been an awesome baby. Well, except for the car. I used to cry non-stop from the moment the car left the driveway until the destination. I could be an actor the way I could start and stop those tears.

But I quit that constant car crying thing because it was exhausting. You know, you get older and you just don’t have the energy of the younger babies.

My mom has been nuts over this teacher appreciation week. We’ve been bringing in lunches and gift cards. And then we all had to color notes for our teachers. Well, not me. Because first of all, I would eat the crayon and the paper. And second, I don’t have a teacher. Do you seriously think my mom and dad pony up money for me to take a class? No way.

I watch all these first borns in the neighborhood taking these really fun mommy and me music and yoga classes. Meanwhile, I go to a class my mommy calls, “trip to the grocery store” and another one called,  “we need gas again” where I don’t even get out of the car!

Please don’t tell my mom I griped about this because she’s still breastfeeding me and I really don’t want her to cut me off.

But in case she reads this post…. mom, I love you so much and I don’t know why you always say you have “the hands of an eighty year old woman” because I don’t think the wrinkles on your hands make you look a day over 65. Love, your youngest son Cash.


A CBS camera crew from Rick’s station came to our house on Saturday to shoot a story about hurricane preparations that will air in the Miami area later this month.

For the filming, I  wanted to wear a red shirt because it’s a power color and if you’re going to fight a hurricane, you need to intimidate it right out of the gate.

I also once had my colors done at a mall in 1984 and they said I was a “winter” which means that I look good in bright, non-pastel colors. And obviously anything I learned in the eighties still holds true.

Does Jessie still gotta himself a girl? Check.

Are Rubik cubes still impossible? Check.

Do shoulder pads still make you look 3 inches taller and rock an outfit? Check.

Am I still a winter? You know it.

Rick wanted me to wear this shirt instead…

selfie in plaid shirt

He though my red shirt was too fancy for talking about hurricanes.

I don’t know what that means. I just stared at him the way I would if someone told me that Dylan and Kelly weren’t soul mates on 90210.

Anyway, I always heard that when it comes to crazy, powerful weather, the fancier the outfit the better. (I still regret being in sweatpants when 12 feet of water filled our house during hurricane Irene.)

Honestly, I think Rick was just trying to get back at me because I once told him before we went out one night that he was wearing “day” jeans, not “night” jeans and he’s been plotting his revenge ever since.

Anyway… I wore red.

hurricane shoot revisedhurricane shoot revisedhurricane shoot revisedhurricane shoot revised

And I asked for a Barbara Walters’ lense, so I could look more like Rick’s second trophy wife – rather than his first 40-something wife.

During the shoot, we learned a lot of hurricane stuff that put us into a complete panic.

I can’t really remember most of it – but I recall one tip. You should store your insurance documents in your dishwasher because it’s an air tight place where they will be protected from the elements in a major hurricane.

So there you go. Put your documents in the dishwasher.  Just don’t turn it on.


One of the most frequently asked questions when you have five kids is… “Do you and your husband EVER go out?”

And the answer is…. Yes! We go out almost every weekend – mostly because restaurants usually have very dim lighting and once you’re post 40, dim lighting is your dear dear friend.

We also go out because we love talking very loudly over even louder music.

And finally, we go out because it helps us remember why we like each other.

Kelcey and Rick date night

And I think it’s good for the kids too. They see mommy and daddy all ready to go out and they think to themselves, “Hey these two must really enjoy spending time with each other if they are leaving us. I mean, sure, they did have that quality time earlier today with the spirited discussion over who left the toaster oven on but I guess they want even more time together painting the town red.

(Why doesn’t anyone ever say that anymore? Off to paint the town red! I’m totally bringing that back. First bringing sexy back. Then that.)

The second most frequently asked question is… “How do you get anyone to babysit for 5 kids?”

It’s easy. You tell them you have 2 kids. And then once you are out, you text them, “Oh by the way, there are 3 more kids sleeping upstairs! See you in few hours!”

The truth is – it’s not all that hard to get a sitter at night.

Most of the job (other than the first hour) comprises of watching TV, eating food and sitting on a couch. There aren’t that many other job opportunities where you can get paid to do those three things at the same time. Trust me. I’ve looked on Monster jobs.

When we go out, I usually put my younger kids to bed before we leave so that only leaves 2 kids anyway. And my 7 and 9 year old are really good so it’s really like 0 kids. Bottom line: I’m paying someone to watch TV, eat food, sit on a couch and babysit 0 kids. Pretty much.

If I think I have a real pro on my hands, I will ask the sitter to fold a basket of laundry.  Any smart babysitter will fail miserably at this job, folding things into crooked shapes and mixing all the different sizes and items so it’s virtually impossible to put away. And then I will never ask her again.

Final most frequently asked question… “How do you decide who sleeps in  – you or your husband?”

If our 11-month-old sleeps until 10 am, we both do (this has never happened).

If our 11-month-old sleeps until 6:30 am, then whoever can pretend to sleep the longest until the other one groans and finally gets up, is the winner!


Sometimes I look at my house at the end of the day, and I see all the toys and the dirty dishes and the laundry and I think to myself…

Maybe I should just move.

I mean, I wouldn’t pack anything up. Just leave. And when the real estate broker would show our house to prospective buyers, she’d say things like, “Don’t worry about the dirty dishes and all that junk on the floor. The owner couldn’t take it anymore. She just could not clean up one more dirty, unmatched sock and left. Rumor has it that she is living above a chocolate croissant shop in the Ile de la Cité of Paris.”

Instead of a perfectly manicured lawn, the broker’s pamphlet for potential buyers would show half broken toys strewn across the lawn, a bent over cactus plant that our 9-year-old decided to plant in the middle of the yard, and a small river from the hose being left on accidentally for 18 hours.

There would be wet laundry in the machine that I had washed 14 times but kept forgetting to put in the dryer.

There would books held together by duct tape.

And enough hairbands to sew a hairband quilt if there was anyone on the planet who actually wanted a hairband quilt.

It would be like the opposite of “staging” a house. I would just leave it a complete hell hole.

So that’s one option.

Another option is to pray that the Glad clean up crew shows up at my house each night. How can you beat cleaning, pom poms and front flips?!

Can you imagine if they showed up at your house? I’d be so happy that I wouldn’t even ask why they loved to clean so much.

By the way, if you watch some of their entertaining TrashCrashers videos, you can get a coupon for those black Glad bags. That’s the kind of coupon you can actually use, unlike you know, a coupon for baby mascara or something.

This is a sponsored post by Glad. All ideas are my own. Especially the part about me living above a croissant shop in Paris.


My sister lives in Memphis and I don’t know if it’s the memory of Elvis or tasty BBQ or the music in that city but something is happening there because her kids are ridiculously advanced. For example, her son Matej is 3 but acts more like a mature 27.

When Matej was about a year and a half, he was talking like crazy. Complete complex sentences. Now that I think back, he was probably making jokes that were going over my head.

My twins, who are 9 months older than him, were saying — not a lot at the time. A “mama” here. A “dada” there. And shrieking “na-na” when they wanted a snack.

Here is the three of them back then….


Well, we spent a week with Matej at the beach that summer and afterward, my twin Chase must have turned to his sister Harlowe and said, “Holy crap! Did you hear our cousin Matej? He is kicking our baby asses in the speech department. We have got to start talking! Like now.”

And shortly after that vacation, they did start talking. Big time. And they have never stopped.

Well, now my sister has another son Callum who is about six weeks younger than my baby Cash. I was talking to my sister this weekend and she mentioned that Callum is clapping and waving.

Hmm… 11 month old Cash does NOT clap or wave.

But dammit, we will not be outshined again but that superpower family.

So here is a video of all the things Cash CAN do….

If you are at work and can’t play the video or you are trapped under something heavy and can’t press play, here’s the list:

1. ride an exercise bike

2. box

3. jumping jacks

4. Saturday Night Fever dance moves

I think we can crown Cash the champion baby.

kelcey kintner


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