Return of Souless Photography

If I'd taken this photo, I would have it on the photography blog I love it so much.

Samantha Sue took it though.

Along Those Lines

Work on a photo/Take a photo every day.

I am trying to focus on pushing myself closer, more unconventional... And I can learn from every photo session I do. How I should have moved here, how I should have... well... moving seems to be my thing. It's like the whole: when you put chapstick on, do you move your mouth/head or do you move the chapstick? I tend to move my head. I should be moving the chapstick.

For those of you still with me after that little illustration...

Another thing about turning this into a profession. I don't think that every good photo makes every subject look beautiful. I think we understand and accept "character shots" a lot more for babies and kids than we do for ourselves and yet those are so much more interesting and precious. And yet if I'm expect to make everyone not just look like themselves, but look... how they want to be...

Which I don't blame them at all because I would be difficult too- pictures of me that other people love, I don't like at all. I'm very specific about what I like, and how could I possibly have everyone describe to me how they think they look beautiful. To some extent even whilst being artsy I will try to make people look their best, but capturing the moment is more impressive than a wrinkle in the nose... at least it should be... but I feel the same way - if I really truly think I look hideous, than the moment is overshadowed. I pride myself on being open to the moment even if my nostrils are flared inches wide... but still, if I had my druthers... Well, you get the idea...

People!

Art vs Hobby vs Craft vs Profession

I have a few hang-ups, you may have noticed. Many of them have to do with dessert. Some with ants. Still others with television romances.

Among these hang ups is a hang up about openly suggesting I am good enough at something artistic to call myself anything semi-professional sounding.

I have this snobbery inside me for anyone who calls themselves an artist if they aren't... I dunno... somehow recognized, I don't respect it. Odd, you thought I was generally nicer than that, didn't you?

But no, I'm not.

Majoring in Art, now that was cool. That was easy to see where I ranked in the class on any given project - that was awesome to see how very few people were ever consistently higher than anyone else once we got to the higher levels, it was all just different. I could respect different and still feel cool myself. Because no one was just me.

At the same time that majoring in art made me feel like an artist (without the hang-ups), it also gave me the hang-ups. Because yes, this sketch is great - but its not ready for a gallery show... so we were challenged always that we couldn't just excel in our class - would we excel in the world? Did we have something to SAY? So, that is part of where my snobbery comes from.

Also, the fact that my "hobby" right now is photography doesn't help. At least with watercolor I can feel sorta cool in that while I'm not exactly tops in the field, not everyone has that particular talent/skill.

But not only can anyone point and click, bound to get good if not brilliant pictures now and then, but with the whole digital slr thing, anyone can do that with really cool clarity and form. And it seems to me a whole lot of people exactly like me are moving in the exact direction I'm moving (moms with the same camera, taking pictures of their kids, branching out to other people, blah blah blah).

Steve and I have been watching the "Genius of Photography" series again on the Ovation network and Steve pointed out a quote which was something to the effect of, "photography is the easiest art to master and the hardest to become distinguished" ... after all, really truly if we're standing in the same place taking a picture of the same thing, nothing makes my picture any better than anyone else's (I'm not getting into OH I'll have it cropped a certain way or I'll pay attention to the shoes while you'll pay attention to the face). Whereas, if we were painting the exact same thing, my stroke, my eye, my perspective, my style, even my color choices would just be totally different from yours.

So, I find myself somewhat lame.

I do not find it lame if I just call it my hobby. And if its my hobby, what's the harm in spending time (in moderation) honing the hobby? Hobbies I respect. Crafts, I respect.

As long as I stay unprofessional, I enjoy it, I think I'm brilliant in fact, because look how great this picture is - yeah, it's just a hobby... just something I enjoy that my mom and Steve allow me to play in (by taking care of my kids)

But if I'm professional. I dunno. Expectations raise my snobbery instincts. It makes me think one of my art advisers will see me and shake their heads in disgust.

Not that this is going to stop me. But this is a blog and this is what I'm blogging about today... until I upload photos from Abby's trip to Disneyland with Samantha anyway...

Nothing Worse

Except maybe being sick... There is nothing worse than having one child completely safe and happy and occupied (i.e. not even HERE) and the other sleeping and it being 3am and mom (me) is unable to sleep.

Saw "wanted". Was a fine movie. But i think it made my brain bleed. STOP THE FLASHING LIGHTS SOMEONE.

Seriously... to squander this break like this drives me crazy.

CLASSIC

I think this may be my favorite "parent/child" photo I have ever taken. This is *so* the dynamic between parents and kids sometime... it just cracks me up. Just like "Why must my son want so very intently to go back into the mud to pull out that worm and eat it?" and the "If I could just get out of my completely unreasonable mother's arms I could get over there and eat that worm... He's taunting me from his little worm den, I can tell."

Questionable Talents

I just discovered I have yet another questionable talent.

I can tell by a single touch whether or not the fries inside the fast food bag beside me has adequate salt.

Other questionable talents include:
Bending my fingers back like a circus freak.
Distinguishing the difference between differently packaged Oreos.
Having extreme margerine vs butter awareness.
Knowing how every chocolate shake in the city tastes like.
Remembering phone numbers.
Being able to count off every possible thing that could go wrong... and therefore thinking whatever did go wrong wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.
The unique ability to flip around any location in my head making it impossible to find again.

Get Out While You CAN!!!

I have noticed in parenting that when things go wrong at the wrong time (both kids melting down, one kid just fell asleep and the other starts screaming or blowing on a trumpet) we parents tend to react as if we are in the middle of a battle zone.

This is usually when one of us loses our cool and the other one basically takes the child (or ticking time bomb in this analogy) and sometimes actually yells, "Just GO, go! I'll take care of it. Save yourself! Stay Alive!!!!!"

Jack's overdeveloped motor skills are causing problems. He should not be able to sit up from a laying down position. And yet he can. And it confuses him I think when he is asleep to suddenly find himself upright.

So he sort of... freaks out, shall we say?

SO I told Steve to come in here and burp Jack as I was unable to get a burp out of him. And Steve did (hoorah!), and then tried to get Jack to STAY. Look, you have to try everything people. But as someone who had already attempted to gently suggest (per force of my hands trying to keep him in a wedge of sleeping bliss) I already knew this was not only not going to work, but going to backfire. The plain truth of the matter is any interaction during this period is just going to wake a baby up further. I like the "hypnotize child with lit up face of mom while she sits at the computer" method. Key is, mom is not directly relating to child, child feels totally secure mom is there (even if the wench is ignoring his pleas for help). Mom is calm, can even focus on something else during the ten minute window it takes for child to calm down. ANYWAY I had to use this raised voice sort of whisper to tell Steve to never mind, leave me here, save yourself.

And it reminded me a movie. Because then of course he whispers heatedly back something either to the effect that, "No, this has to work!" or "Are you sure?! I can't leave you behind!" And then I push him lovingly on the rump to emphasize that I do in fact mean it.

So Jack stared at the lighty uppity music/monkey thing for a while which was rather hilarious becuase he is still sitting up, still half asleep. I'm not supposed to look at him and sure enough everytime I weakened and glanced at him, he glanced right back - super eye skills. SO anyway I'm sitting here, the lighty uppity thing has run out of music and it's just sleeping Abby, not so much sleeping Jack and me and sure enough Jack lets out this huge burp and will probably be asleep forthwith.

I am working on this theory that despite all the success and psychology behind the different parenting books out there - in the end the baby is almost always right. It's a little pathetic really. But just like I used to laugh patronizingly (I didn't MEAN to be patronizing) at Abby when she was two and saying "Cow" to the bird poster and then sure enough two feet to the right of the bird poster is a big ole' cow that I hadn't seen... I get the feeling like Jack always does know what is best - he just can't tell me very easily.

For example he'll throw himself back in my arms and I, with a smug smile on my face, put him directly down every time he does that because Abby used to do that and stopped once it meant she couldn't be held anymore. Well wouldn't you know it - JACK actually intends for me to put him down when he does that and promptly falls asleep.

And, like I said, the shrill cry he was giving us sure sounded like a "I need to burp" cry, but did I believe him? No, I just thought he was being difficult.

Granted he's not asleep just yet. But now its just tired "I'm being difficult" crying, which is a lot easier to hear.

Steve's Venice Affair

Ever wonder what Steve was doing in Venice while I sat home with my parents (and Beth & Robert & Joshua) on Thanksgiving?

http://www.cunard.com/

Go there and see the video in the bottom left hand corner.

Integrity

In a world of reduced quantity for increased price, I was SO pleased to see Dove ice cream on the Ralphs shelf. I'd seen pictures of this brand on the back of the Dove chocolate ice cream bars and wanted to try it because I *really* like their chocolate ice cream inside the little miniture ice cream bites. I don't usually like *just* chocolate ice cream - because its too sweet or too bland or too dark or too fussy.

Anyway, I was particularly impressed when I opened the little carton and they'd put a stamped layer of chocolate ganache on top of the ice cream. Now, I was not expecting that and I consider it a stamp of integrity. They didn't have to do that. But they did. And oh yeah, I was happy that they had.

The Mistake ...

The metal trash bins I bought for our bathrooms are mistakes that just keep on giving.

The slightest nudge and these things make a noise that could make me swear (the serious sort of swearing which I really do not do).

Drives me up the wall. Worse because it happens always at just the wrong time - anytime really is the wrong time for that because it either startles the bejeebes out of me or it wakes up the whole block.

More Tired...

...

But loving so much my little offspring. They really could not be more loved... I've noticed in pictures poor Jack is always inches away from being kissed, being kissed, or just been kissed.

Abby is just my treasure.

Tired

...

That's all for now.

Father's Day Project

Not quite as successful as the Mother's Day project, but it's the idea... and after all, it should be a little different as those Father types are so very different... from the mother types... which are the best types... OBVIOUSLY... ;)

OH yeah

Had a huge weekend... Father's Day Project (mirror project to Mother's Day Project) should be uploaded tomorrow... If it is uploaded by morning you will know that I had an awful night and had nothing better to do at three in the morning (i.e. SLEEP) than come out here with a cranky baby and post pictures.

Is This Thing On?

So, nothing deep here.

I'm very happy with the summer believe it or not.

The first thing on the agenda is Ballet Camp! Two days down and its already totally worth it. Abby absolutely adores it. Let's just say she got herself ready both days! It must be serious fun.

I wish there were a Round Table closer to my house.

A clean house is akin to three days of peace and quiet. I'm going to see if I can "keep it up" for a few more days than I usually get to. It's been over 24 hours and its lookin' good. It's already a record.

Had a great baby photo session yesterday and once again need to find a way to chill and stay longer. Julie (the mom) was so easy going that she encouraged me to stay as long as I wanted to keep trying for better picture opportunities and I'm so glad I did.

The things keeping me from that are my normal rush to not inconvenience someone (yes I know people really WANT the pictures to be good, but we're talking messing up naps and making for fussy kids etc etc). My own need to get back to a babysitter or to pick up Abby at an appointed time from an appointed place. My feeling like 'okay, I've gotten as good as I can get' that if I get the opportunity to ignore I ALWAYS should because most of my favorite pictures are because I kept at it. It's the idea that you get the standards, the obvious pictures first... its in those times when I'm sitting there thinking there's nothing else that my mind says - well, you should at least try this or that.

Jack is a complete ... well... believe it or not, he moves like a lizard... though he doesn't quite leap yet.

Nothing is safe.

How are you all?

Sleep - My Drug of Choice

Sleep makes everything better. Perhaps more subtle than cupcakes but very effective. However, it's a hard drug to get a hold of in my neighborhood. The drug boss- Jack is his name - is a cantankerous little squirt. My dealer - Steverino - cuts me a few essential doses during the week but this morning he finally gave up some of the uncut stuff and I've got a good fix now. Should last the day at least.

Drowning

In undone tasks...

to do list too daunting

going to sell everything and camp out on my mom's patio and eat burnt fudge all day long.


okay... to do list:
give gramma credit card for food
butterfly cards (ask gramma to print 3 of my favorites full size?)
finish snapfish upload
bring coffee maker
find gift
find gift
throw away all toys - suggest Abby have imaginary friends
kick wall everytime laundry piles up
why are these cheerios out here?
step on glasses left on ground
sleep in playpen with Jack in effort to keep him asleep
name that smell in the fridge
arrange full drums of Arrowhead water into words saying: this is too much water Arrowhead you lied when you said this was the minimum.
find all the empty water drums scattered throughout house
get annoyed everytime I look at the clock
pay bill
pay bill with old fashioned stupid check
read a book so I feel like a person
just keep doing the little things until they pile up and I win

No It Does NOT Matter

That it's only pre-school and she's not even graduating for goodness sake! She'll be back next year!

But oh how easy tears would have been.

From how well-behaved all these little kids were (that I'm so used to seeing tearing up the playground like nobody's business) sitting in their seats, to how proud Abby was to be carrying the flag, to how these kids used to be babies just a couple years ago.

I dunno. But it was a tear-jerker.

Some Public Service Announcements

#1 Lettuce does not freeze.
(Look, since my husband refuses to let me cook the same thing every single night, our lettuce consumption just cannot keep up with the 8 oz container of shredded lettuce. I just thought I'd TRY not to be wasteful here people. And, you know, in case any other semi-domestic people were out there wondering if you could freeze lettuce so you didn't have to pile your soft taco with two cups of shredded lettuce to avoid throwing it out, I just wanted to save you the trouble and disappointment)






#2 Cupcakes are like beer.
(Well, to me anyway. I had a great photo shoot on Monday and just desperately needed to celebrate. So when I say, 'Oh, I could really go for a tall frosty one'... I mean a big frostingy cupcake... made by me... I fell off the wagon all right... the DAY I weighed in two pounds from my goal... I fell off the wagon. Go ahead... judge me, I don't care! I have the cupcakes already! You can't take them away from me!!)













#3 Dreyers are lousy greedy turkeys. (expletive courtesy of Zoozie)
WHY has the world not ignited in shock and disgust? Dreyers has reduced the size of their container (and indeed what is inside said container) and *not* the price required to purchase dinky container. You wanted proof? BESIDES the label clearing changing from 1.75 quarts to 1.5 quarts? HERE is the truth.




Can you handle it?! Obviously you can... but you shouldn't. I cry HAVOC...

Finally... Validation

for FOUR very very very long years of pain and suffering taking Abby to the picture place at the mall.

And this wasn't the only cute one!

Ok, I know, it's not Annie Liebowitz, but compared to my past pain, its gold because it's cute and it was simple.

Maya's Daddy

The gentleman I mentioned a few months back, Aaron Montes De Oca, has passed away. His daughter is in Abby's class at school. Pray for their family, and how she will be shaped without him. His parents I believe are local and active in her life.

I know...

Believe me, I know... it's awful... absolutely awful that I could not invite every single one of you to Abby's ballet recital. Haven't heard much about it? That's because I don't want to ignite a firey salt in your wounds that you were unable to attend.

And... well...

I hate to tell you, it was adorable.

Traumatic for dear old mum here, but fabulous in the end.

Here's the thing. It's just about... maybe a minute - two minutes for each class in which the kids follow about... 2/3 of the routine they are supposed to be following. The cute thing is that Abby's teacher has stockpiled (apparently) hundreds if not thousands (I presume she was kidding on the 'thousands' comment, but I'm not sure) of costumes that she lets her classes use for their recitals. It's just above and beyond the call of duty and quite heart-warming:



Everything was going smoothly on a really difficult day. Steve and I were due at a work-shop (clean the school) from 9-12, Abby was due at dress rehearsal at 11-12:15. Performance was at 4, dancers had to get there at 3:30. SO instead of the wacky musical chairs routine I was thinking of setting up for babysitting/etc

my original plan:
8:30am : run Jack/Abby over to Gramma's
9am: be at workshop with Steve
10am: have Gramma bring both kids to me so I could bring Jack up to Zoozie to babysit during the ballet dress rehearsal and get Abby dressed and hair done to dress rehearsal
10-12: Gramma finishes my routine at the school while I am at the dress rehearsal
12:15: pick up/nurse Jack from Zoozie's
Get lunch for everyone.
Feel guilty.
Pass out.
3pm Run Jack BACK over to Gramma's, get Abby ready AGAIN, get her to studio

The actual plan:
8:30am: bring Jack to Zoozie's, leave Abby where she was at Gramma's
9am: be at workshop with Steve
10:20am: Gramma brings Abby to school so I can do her hair and give Gramma ballet clothes.
11am: Gramma takes Abby to rehearsal but does not have to do manual labor at school
11:30am: Steve and I done and meet up with Zoozie.
and... ugh, forget it, I don't want to type it all out. Point being, it was simpler.

SO the only hiccup in the otherwise perfectly run machine of a day was that Abby had a complete emotional meltdown when fitted for her head-piece. One of the other parents told me I needed to get back in to help because she was crying, but now that I look back, perhaps I should not have.

See heres the thing. When the teacher had the meeting about this, we had just seen a run through of the performance from class and she said, thats about as good as its going to get and as long, so please don't freak your kids out, don't force them if they don't want to, don't get upset if they run to you in the audience blah blah blah. SO when Abby was emotionally distraught over this headband I figured they'd say, 'no problem.' SO I confidently tell Abby to go tell the teacher. She responds kindly, "Oh, you have to wear a headpiece."

I blink several times and am without words. I almost left there and then, but ugh, it is SO hard when you know something IS actually important to your child and yet they are too emotionally distraught to know it and will be MORE emotionally distraught when they miss the whole thing.

Here Abby is explaining what happened to Daddy:


Teacher suggests a less obtrusive headband, Abby still miserably upset... not just crying or whining, we're talking full on sobs. So I get ready to take off her costume and pack it in and she settles, and holds hands with Anatol (the male lead in their little dance). So , I make a run for it to the audience.

And lo and behold, the girl came out with BOTH headbands on... dry-eyed and cheerful as could be.

I did not just fall off the turnip truck, I am completely aware that my child will do more things willingly for teachers and authority figures... and other kids than for me. But *they* were the ones who told me not to force it!

Lest you all judge them too harshly, not only did they set this whole thing up and give costumes and set up professional pictures and video, they also got little personalized coloring books which, for some reason, Abby loved... like... at the same level of emotion as she was upset earlier, she LOVED this coloring packet, go figure:

THEN she is giddy with success and pride and asks as I get her in the car, "When can the next recital be?!"

Just Wait

Til you see...

So... guess what baby does not detest getting his picture taken at Picture People?

Guess what girl is old enough to follow instructions and understand the value of a bribe?

It's been four long years of stress and anxiety everytime I even thought about getting a picture done of the kid(s)... and (cue light from heaven and music too) finally... finally I just showed up, put the kids in front of the camera person. Clapped my hands a bit (and asked Poppa and Gramma to do the same) and SNAP... pictures.

They aren't, of course, my sort of pictures a la photography... but I think there is something important about them... not sure what... something... The traditional camera eye of their time.

It's valuable.

I swear...

And I got two free ...

Ken Doesn't Know What the Hell He's Doing

Excuse the language...

But, I thought someone ought to tell the truth. The plumbing crew next door apparently has a new guy. His name is Ken. He doesn't know how to use a wheelbarrow, he seems to have buried himself partially in a hole, and has numerous times put the limbs of his crew in danger in the last three days.

Oh yeah, and his loud boss has woken up Jack from four separate naps because of Ken. I'm not happy with Ken. I'm thinking of suggesting he go back to his job as Barbie's whipping boy.

I'm not terribly happy with his boss either. He has either not done a very good job screening his new employees or he has been pressured by his sister to hire his nephew. Either way, I think he should have had the guts to let Ken go by now.

Note to plumbing crew. I can hear every word you say. If that pool drainage system you're tinkering with two feet from the walls of Abby's room floods my house, I have a large family and they don't take kindly to people who flood an almost organized house.

The Little Things

Make a difference...

For the positive:
Last night I made broiled salami sandwiches for dinner. I didn't have the energy to try to sell them to Abby so I just made it and answered when she asked what it was etc. and had in my mind the back-up plan ("four bites of this and you can just have plain salami") and ate my dinner. Abby didn't pout or poke at the food, she just started eating. And then complimenting, "Momma, I LOVE this." "Momma, thank you for making me such a fabulous dinner!"

Awh, shucks, it weren't nothing, little lady.

For the negative:
I spent money on t-shirts. Because cute casual t-shirts are what I need because I simply can't get too dressed up everyday and perform at my job. I *should* have bought a whole bunch of white, gray, and black tee-shirts. Because those are the casual pant colors I have. *SIGH*

Nothing Like...

getting a step closer to organization to help quell the blues...

I do have three small mountains of laundry to deal with, but it's still exciting to cross one more jumble of crap off the list that needs to be "taken care of"

SO what's left?

the garage/storeroom (it was the mold's fault that that is not still dearly organized from Gramma's last vacation)
my closet (just a bunch of shoes)
the piano top
the table downstairs
the counter downstairs
the drawer top upstairs
the wardrobe top upstairs
the "random room" (get the last vestiges of random out of it)
the island drawers
eventually the laundry room (get clean enough to be comfortable using? is that possible knowing rats can possibly get in there?)
files

There are only two big projects - the rest I should be able to do at night or while the kids are playing (how often is it that neither child needs some one on one attention? not often).

BIG MONEY STUFF:
plumbing
roof
deck- off back door
front lawn/irrigation
fix tub (possibly not big money)
finish kitchen

Accomplishment Monday

SO.
I downloaded photos galore (I guess that was last night but it counts).
I am currently attempting to upload photos galore.
I played with, calmed, held, put to sleep an incredibly unhappy Jack (there is now a bump - a tooth is coming... its not the tooth that was supposed to come, but whatever...) through the morning.
Had a playdate with my godchildren/ a good visit with Shannon (we discussed dealing with emotional problems emotionally... we're very deep people... and one of us watches Dr. Phil)
Had TWO pizzas delivered since the first was wrong and not enough.
Arranged for my mom to help so I could clean for the cleaning lady (it makes sense, you'd see if you were a wife)
Delegated my mom to do the dishes (she doesn't like sitting around and Jack was asleep wrapped to me)
I drank a lot of water.
Brought ALL the dirty clothes (including the dirty clothes that had mistakenly been put in Steve's tie bin a month ago) to the laundry room.
Tried to dry the comforter - we need a new one... ten years is apparently this one's lifespan.
Put the wrap in the wash (Jack LOVES making a mess of Biter Biscuits)
Moved around Abby's room a la her specs ("back to normal" which is back before Gramma and I moved everything around Thanksgiving weekend)
Tidied all rooms
Put away all clean clothes (except mine... and Steve's... and some of Abby's)
Paired socks with Gramma and Abby (Abby was SO sweet folding socks - claiming the cute ones as her own)
Brought up ALL the clean towels and blankets that had set up residence in the "random" room downstairs. We're talking two trips of towels stacked over my head.
Took garbage out.
Got very tired typing up what I've done today.

Poppa the Prince

Abby insisted that, for Poppa's birthday, he would need a Prince Cake. So, with a little help from Party city, that is what he got...

OH, and some family to say Happy Birthday of course.

Three Weeks

It's been three weeks since my mom officially moved to town. The kids, MarySUE, and Sarah waited for her to arrive (plus me obviously).