Abby Spends the Night at Aunt Megan's

*Bryan I'm sure was wonderful as well, but Abby didn't mention him much ;)

You can read all about it here.

Must Update Before I Fall...

Too far behind - must do massive post:

well first off "check" on the: embarrassing naked picture for Jack's yearbook (toddler version)



Abby loves the new clothes Zoozy bought for her - and accessorized all on her own
She is such a little lady
Jack loves to crawl into the shower with me. Unlike Abby he doesn't mind the stream of water falling overhead or its warm temperature:
Abby with her Orange Sale Campaign Manager

The two thresholds to the kitchen have been just gaps showing old wood and spider paths. Now both of them are nicely filled in
The ceiling fan is actually both attached properly AND there is no gaping hole in which to check the installation.
The downstairs bathroom has been awaiting the move of the light and the light switch since we put in our vanity four years ago and realized you couldn't open the door with the light centered where it was above the vanity.


Of all the little things we've hired Manuel to finish up for us - this was by far my favorite - the empty hole with wires hanging down has been mocking me for years.
The vent had the venty thingee exposed which never really bothered me, but bothered everyone else - so that's covered
When they took out the mold and the WALLS with it, the outside garage type air was flowing seamlessly into the inside laundry room which made everything colder and difficult - so that is shut up.
Shannon and I have had almost regular playdates for Mommy's only. Even though we have wonderful awesome spouses and children, sanity does often teeter, so these times away are essential. They do seem to center around food and dessert that I like, but hey, she humors me.

Rainbow Cake

From Sarah:

http://www.ohdeedoh.com/ohdeedoh/meal-time/rainbow-cakeslinks-n-slingks-surreptitious-web-links-to-other-good-sites--074369

(NO one show Abby this unless you're ready to do it for her!)

Storm Brewing

The COOLEST thing just happened.

I was sitting on my living room floor sorting laundry and I saw a big electric flash through the window - Confused, I waited a few seconds for the boom of thunder and sure enough - CRACK.

I waited some more and sure enough the first soft splatters of raindrops against the window... then some more serious rain... then the pitter patter of hail...

Then... the house is accosted by ping pong balls of hail (not nearly that big, but that's how it sounded in this old house).

Amazing. I grabbed the camera with my super cool flash and started taking pictures from the shelter of our front porch area... If I was really really cool I would have gone out in the street to get the cool shot of the whole street covered in layers of hail, but I was afraid for the safety of my camera... and my face as I tried to walk down slippery stairs to the street. GAH... I'm so annoyed I didn't do it - but I really think it would have been a bad idea.

Update: Okay I went back out there now that its not actively hailing/raining. And... yeah - I'm not equipped, even with my handy dandy flash for a night shoot with crazy reflecting hail on the ground.

Oh well. At least I went out there and did it. My feet and toes hurt... it was VERY cold standing in the little ice pellets. Shocker, huh? But I thought all my shoes were downstairs and it's raining which will certainly flush all the hail away - I had to be quick, don't you see? Ahhhh. The warmth is returning to my toes... nice...

Update #2: I just couldn't leave it there. I went back out with the lessons learned two minutes ago under my belt. I'm happy now.

You can see the results on brightwatersphotography.blogspot.com in the next couple days

Dear Future Self

You put the rug info in the little purse in the closet.

You DID pack Jack's swimsuit and socks and sweatshirt - just in your suitcase.

...



Everyone loves you


;)

Jealous Hag

Now I've got your attention.

Why do I get sad when I look at other photographer's work? If I don't like their work, it annoys me, but more often, I do like their work and I want it ... I want to do that... I want to, I want to, I want to.

But not now.

But YES now.

The stumbling blocks for me right now range greatly from internal struggles to simple circumstance.

I think I've mentioned this before, so it should come as no great shock to you that as a kid - my goals, my vision for my life had virtually nothing to do with a vocation. I wanted love - family, husband, kids, house... I knew that I couldn't exactly go after those things in the same way one might a career, knew that the love/husband/kids part in particular was going to have to be flexible since I didn't just want to BE a wife - I wanted the sort of love story I read about - which, if any of you know the sort of books I read - you should know has a lot more to do with humor and connection than fancy romance. SO obviously I didn't go around advertising all this, and I did want to "do" something that I enjoyed or was good at or whatever... so it's not like I was on the prowl for husband material... but I certainly wasn't wasting time with anyone that didn't fit the bill... not for long anyway.

I wasn't planning on wasting away if I didn't find these things - oh you get the picture, I don't need to be defensive about it, right? I wasn't crazy about what I wanted - but when I envisioned my life back then, the HERE and the NOW was absolute success.

So here I am just where I wanted to be - realizing that being a wife and a mom are vocations that I certainly adore, but have... lets see... sides to them that I am not ... NATURALLY inclined to. The housekeeping side. If I am focused on that - then yes, I'll pass at it. But the more I'm focusing on photography the worse the housekeeping is getting.

That's beside the point (and hey - my "no dish crusted" rule is at like 90% success rate right now - that's pretty dang good in comparison to where I was).

So, except for failing at some housekeeping duties, I am exactly where I want to be - with family in every definition so much more than my little childhood brain could have dreamed up.

It's the side jobs of mom and wife that I didn't understand as a kid (how could picking up my crumbs possibly translate as love for mom?! I thought to myself...)... that have me feeling a bit on the incomplete/uninspired side. It's the managing the day sort of stuff I don't love... managing the education, managing this and that and the other thing.

The parts I do love are exactly the parts that I thought I'd love. OOOO those cute faces Abby makes and how she talks with that tone, OOOOOO those kissable cheeks Jack has and the chatter he tries. (and yes Ooooo how nice it is to have Steve to cuddle with when there's ever time to cuddle).

And up crops this photography thing. And oh how it adds to my day in a way doing the laundry does not.

Snort, yes I know I still have to do the laundry - please do not regale me with the necessities and hidden joys of organization and housekeeping. I do get it, believe it or not - I have done the happy dance over getting chores done, I have sighed with relief, cheered and pat myself on the back for doing the things I need to do just to keep the house in general order. I understand how wonderful and fulfilling being a better housekeeper could be.

But it's not inspiring and addicting and fascinating and exciting and fun and frustrating like painting, drawing, or clicking that camera button. And painting and drawing are just plain too time intensive, crawl-paced for me right now.

So what have I established so far that I meant to establish in this post?

Part One: I am happy with where and who I am.
Part Two: I find photography the perfect creative outlet for the here and who and now that I am.

So what's the problem?

Part Three: I want more, but... (not to be read I want more butt- I have plenty of butt, thank you very much)

The circumstances:
Some of these photographers just plain live in different places that I don't have access to. Or worlds I'm not a part of. Midwest or Eurpopean or whatever - and no, it STILL doesn't make me want to travel, it just makes me want to figure out my niche here... and find horses here and find street scenes here and you get the idea... I want to manufacture what they have when they walk out of the door. Bad idea, I know.
In actuality, the nitty gritty time can be achieved. I have a schedule worked out with my ever-patient mother that I could use for photography shoots. They are mostly set aside for actual paying client shoots however, not 'just for the art of it' shoots... and even if they were...

The internal struggle: One blog I found The Sartorialist made me desperately want to go around town and ask random strangers to stand there a second to pose for the camera. The very idea has me shaking in my boots. I can be an extrovert like person. I really can. Obviously -you've probably all seen me obnoxiously extroverted at one time or another, so you know that. And sure, maybe if I had a little crew following me around making me look legit I probably wouldn't have a hard time doing that kind of thing. But just me... I freeze up just thinking about asking the people that I'd actually WANT to shoot to turn around and look at the pretty birdie.

It's sort of like - what show was that - I think an Oprah psychologist said that mostly we are attracted to people that we consider way out of our league and we marry people we are more comfortable around. I happen to have hit the jack-pot with Steve in that sense - I still think he's way out of my league. But with photography subjects, I can see that happening. Like I can tell who I would feel comfortable asking on the street - but they wouldn't necessarily be who I really really wanted to ask that day.

Part Four: Why the rush?
I've mentioned this before too - but I feel this weird... feeling that I'm in a rush all the time now. With photography more than anything else. Like, impending... something.
Anyway, I think it messes with my photography. Instead of enjoying and savoring I'm... trying to catch up with my momentum or something weird like that.
I think our vacation is going to help this, because I'm going to try to be intentional about it. I have a bunch of captive models in a gorgeous location and all the time in the world. I'm excited to see what I can catch.

Progress

So Abby gets up miserably several times last night. One time complaining, "It's all the light - I can't sleep because there's so many lights on."


SIGH.

The Family Scowl

The Switch

"Momma, why is there a switch in my brain?"

Hmmm... I say, "I don't know. What does the switch do?"

After some probing, I found Poppa has been trying to help Abby work through her night troubles. The switch troubled her some (I believe the context was Poppa telling her that there was a switch in her brain that told her when it's time to go to sleep and when it's time to get up).

Snort.

Lights

Abby is scared to go to bed everynight and wants as many lights on as absolutely possible. We finally caved last week and even allowed the little chandelier above her bed on - in addition to the closet, the Christmas tree, the hall and the bathroom.

My dad (the guy with the psychology knowledge) talked to her for a couple minutes last night and suggested we put no limits on the light for one night and negotiate after that.

So her overhead light was on as well last night.

AND without prompting or suggesting or me even knowing she wore this to bed:



Like literally had it over her eyes.

Hmmmm... SOMETHING tells me its not about the dark?

Ummm...

So, my very nice and helpful neighbor June just called to ask if she could tell UPS to try my house to accept a registered package if they aren't there. I said of course and there was a lot of pausing which I didn't understand until she said, "It's Dad. It's his ashes."



"Oh." I say. I camp by the door, I think.

Better Late than Never...

SO January 3rd (my brother's birthday) Abby, Jack, my mom and I went to view the Rose Parade floats. It is the only decent thing to do considering my mom's complex was completely shut down (except for an itty bitty grass fire lane) during New Year's. We just walked straight out of the house, down the driveway and around the corner and there were the massive floats.

Abby brought her digital camera and Jack was blase about the whole thing. There were aLOT of people.... the end.

Portraits of the Artist

"I've Well and Truly Ruined it This time"

Ah, the most joyous of all the phrases my mom utters.

Why you ask, aghast?

Because that's what she says when she really REALLY burns the fudge. And one of two things happen after she's said it - the fudge actually turns to petrified stone and is really ruined (and I ow my mom a new saucepan) or...

The fudge really truly is perfect.

Sigh. I have a perfect batch of burnt fudge in my fridge. How will I both keep it forever and eat it? I don't know - I'm working on the problem

I have gotten used to and much enjoyed (dare I say, adored) her less burned offerings in the last year since the last perfect batch - but... there really is only one sort of truly burnt fudge...

Jack - gangster cutee

Have I mentioned recently that Jack is too cute to handle. Like, he's got this whoooooooole routine worked out. When he's going to bed, he wants to hold my hand. So I let him unless he gets up in which case I leave. Well, this works best if I'm reading a book so that he doesn't sense all this "scrutiny" from me even if my eyes are closed - kids can just sense when they are being scrutinized. However, Jack, who rather likes attention, now will kind of perch his head against the crib bars, just above the bumper to see how long it takes me to realize he's not totally down on the mattress, then when I look at him he'll give me this totally impish little boy expression, then plop back down to the mattress.

OH why oh why are our children such flirts? Abby's going to join a commune so she never has to be alone again and Jack is going to be a professional flirt.

The Fake Driveway

You leave Abby and Steve alone for too long and they cook up plans. Big plans.

I randomly heard that they were going to have a fake driveway in the garage last week. I thought that meant they were going to pretend to serve fastfood because that's what Abby calls the "drive-thru."

Whatever it was, I could tell, something in Abby's voice, that it was VERY important to her. The name sometimes changed, driveway, drive out, drive...

Finally, once steve brought home the projector I realized it was a fake Drive IN.

Steve set up the projector, brought out blankets and pillows and they watched a movie against the garage wall. How cute is that? Abby LOVED it.

Fascinating...

People really raise their eyebrows at us when we answer the "How long have you been married?" question with, "Almost ten years."

There is something about this milestone that gives off a sort of legitimacy.

Anyway, a guy we were meeting with about our stairway asked how long, we answered, and he looked at Steve with this very real respect... not quite awe, but definite admiration.

Now, this could be because I looked pretty awful as I was waiting until after the meeting to have my shower. BUT I choose to think it was because he felt like it takes a real stand-up guy to stay married. Again, I don't choose to think he feels this way because women are a pain in the butt and all the other negative things I could think.

It was interesting. I think it's one of those glimpses into men that we women dismiss - how much a successful marriage means to them in that it it shows a certain amount of success as a man as well. I find that very honorable if I'm reading that right.

Of course I also got the vibe this man thought it was the men that hold it all together. And... you know... I'm not really thinking he's wrong. Of course us womenfolk go around killing ourselves trying to keep the day to day and in turn the whole lifetime together, it's just... when I think of Steve and Marriage, I think of steady and not swaying and just unimpressed with the circumstances in each of those day to days - perspective I guess the word is, no matter what the day brings.

Jack - By MYSELF

If Jack could say words, those are the words he would say.... those and "Mommy, mommy I love you so much" of course.

If I laugh at you, scoff, mock, etc you when you ask "Can you tell a difference in personality yet between Jack and Abby" please do not take offense. I am laughing at the sheer insanity of souls, and how incredible that it can be so immediate that one can tell their individuality - I am not laughing AT you.

The doctor mentioned at Jack's year appointment that he should be showing interest in feeding himself soon. I don't remember the doctor saying that during Abby's year appointment, but that could very possibly be because Abby screamed for dear life during every second of her doctor's appointments until she was 3.

I didn't think much of it either way because Abby never really cared about feeding herself. Abby - it must be said - was born high class. While she has always been incredibly sure of what she's wanted - doing things herself have not been tops on the list.

Jack... now Jack... he's more a blue collar kind of guy. And "doing it himself" - oh - yeah - that would be VITALLY important to him. How vitally important you ask?

Well, after a few days of him tug of war with the bowl of oatmeal & him constantly yanking the bowl of Cheerios out of my hand, yelling at me face to face in a barking, outraged sort of way, I simply had to listen to him.

And I put up with this... THIS is how clear he was, that I was willing to clean up after this:

"Ah, cold oatmeal and soggy Cheerios, this is what I've been talkin' about!"
"Freedom tastes so good!"
"I've got oatmeal on my what now?"

He was so smug, I cannot even tell you. As a baby, you know you've outdone yourself when the wet rag your mom had to use to clean you off sticks to the floor after use.

The Trashman Cometh

NOW I can clean the house.

Jack Attacks Drinking

Orange Sale 2009 PROGRESS (Maggie, don't look)

Maggie - did you close the page? Go on, close it.




Okay, for everyone else who won't think feel I'm giving everyone else a heart attack by this update:



Okay - I have (both virtual and real) sold 27 crates of fruit. I am overjoyed. Thank you all so much. I have a few family members left to love me with their orders, and a few more cards to call - but I'm one happy Orange seller. 8 more to go. Which will feel insurmountable in two weeks - but for now, seems very doable.

A New Age

Abby wants a new bed. Pronto. She wants a Princess Loft bed to be specific.

She tells me she wants to see it and I say, "Okay, let's see" as I google options, and she prompts, "It's beds.com"

Restless Men

What happens when Jack becomes restless:


What happens when Steve becomes restless:

Orange Sale 2009!!!

Sales start now through me, or 10am tomorrow thru the website www.ansoranges.com

California Navel Oranges
$25 full crate (40lbs)
$16 1/2 crate
$11 1/4 crate

Arizona Ruby Grapefruit
$21 full crate (40 lbs)
$15 1/2 crate
$10 1/4 crate

The growers have said the Oranges are significantly larger this year - fyi.

The fruit is famous for lasting weeks if you keep it in the garage, so don't be intimidated by the size.

I need to sell 35 crates of fruit. This is Abby's preschool's only fundraiser (which is a gift to you and me don't you think?) and it's been the same for 57 years. Can you believe that? I think that is so cool. I couldn't get a hold of one of my families (we get previous customer info from previous ANS families that have left) for a week and they called the school panicked that they hadn't got their order in! I'd say that's one successful fundraiser.

Er hmmm, have I mentioned that if I don't sell it I still have to buy it... and I don't really even like oranges and grapefruit?

A $20 donation counts as a crate of fruit - we still have to try to sell 25 real crates... so ... either one. If you live more than an hour away from me, please don't buy an actual crate from me ;) I love you you East coasters but... um... I'm not delivering fruit to you. Please consider donating a crate of fruit to the Food Pantry (done all automatically) or just making a cash donation (please, pretty please?)

We pick it up January 31 and I must have it out of my house by February 2nd!!

If you buy or donate online both Sarah and I are selling, so make sure to choose M. Scheidler if you want to donate to Sarah's Orange tally and A. Scheidler if you want to donate to mine... this is her first sale and you all remember how freaked out I was (she is not as easily freaked, but still) so feel free to throw me to the curb. OR just donate like ten bucks to mine... and buy a crate from her... or just buy from me if you love me best, you know, however it works out.

I'll be giving you regular reports on how it's going, my mental state, and so on.

Thank you all who have helped us in the past, I can't tell you what a relief it is to go into this knowing I'll make the quota because of all you wonderful people.

Go Orange Sale '09

Some Ought to have Posted...

How two year olds greet each other in the wild:

The cap is not off - I keep wondering what's going to happen if I gave him a taste of pure mustard


Abby making an official introduction of Caiah to Santa

Steve and I on Christmas Eve

Trash Debt*

*term coined by Tim & Sarah as far as I know

One of my biggest annoyances this time of year is when the trash can does not hold all the trash and we have to stockpile trash.  We were doing great with this - all caught up, no perishables with the paper/boxes - perfectly perfect in every way.

Until we forgot to put our bins out Friday.  

DANG IT.

It's Sunday and I'm already dreading waiting until Thursday to clear LAST week's and now this week's trash is going to fill up the bins before we even have a chance to make trash for next week.

DANG IT.

Light Schmight

Two thoughts on light.

First - Steve got me a flash and I am ridiculously pleased with the results... even though it's not exactly purist photographer of me to.

Second - I love this picture of Abby even though she's got crazy sunlight all over her beautiful face.

Actually

Sometimes Abby needs Mommy time especially. She feels sometimes that I'm kissing Jack a lot and not her, or talking to Jack a lot more than her. This is often true, as Jack is attached to me quite often. So, as I'm lucky enough to have such an emotionally aware daughter, she tells me when those times are, and I sit with her and we just chat together.

Always curious about what Abby thinks of things... I ask her a lot of questions. This day I asked her what she wanted her husband to be like.

At first I would give her two options.

Do you want him to be Serious or Silly? Serious
...Tall or Short? Tall
... Strong or weak? Strong
Do you want him to like Cars or Science? Baseball
...Dogs or Cats? Dogs... AND cats, actually, dogs and cats both.
...Piano or Guitar? Piano
...Chicken or Pizza? Pizza
...Paint or Camera? I want him to paint pictures of all his kids and his wife
Beard or no beard? No beard
Do you want him to wear a hat or no hat? What kind of hat? [its up to you] Yeah, like a boy's hat, sure.

Then she'd really get into the swing of things, so I started writing it all down so I wouldn't forget:

I want him to have hair like Jack and feet like Jack.
I want him to be ticklish (I thought this meant play tickle, but she means just him be ticklish, not herself)

Finally when I asked her:

Do you want him to like Cars or Planes?

Actually I want him to like trabbeling. We can go meet a friend, and go to Disneyland, and we could go to Chicago, and to Africa, to Hawaii where Jon & Kate plus 8 went... just everywhere all the days.

I want him to like to pick flowers with me

I want our house to be very pretty and sparkles in the midnight.

I want him to exercise and teach my kids to do exercise.

I want him to wrestle and jump alot with us, maybe play pillow fight.

She came over toward the middle to survey my list and she pointed to it:
When I grow up, I'm going to show this {list] to my boyfriend


edited to add: She again mentioned hair by saying, "I want his hair to be like this" and motioning quite plainly buzzed hair. "Like Daddy's?" She nodded, "Yeah, just like Daddy's"

"On Christmas Eve I want my stocking ot be a Princess and my boyfriend's stocking to be a Prince stocking"

"I want him to tell me to go to bed when I can't go to bed"

I wrote down some note about Coronado and Pasadena, but I don't remember what she said about them.