Normal is good.

There has been much coughing and sleeping and fever in our house over the last week or so. A lot of sleeping. Because to get through the coughing and fever, it's pretty important that you sleep. For me, that's all I can do when I'm sick. I take to my bed like a southern belle with the vapors. I want nothing other than that sweet space between Nyquil and coma. I love that space. Not all the time, of course. I'm no junkie. Well, not since I cut back on caffeine (whimper) but I'm not, I swear.

But sleep. Sleep is good.

Unfortunately, trying to sleep with kids in the house, not so easy. My job for the past couple days, therefore, has been to stay OUT of the house. Because while *I* have had my flu shot, my kids haven't yet. And while they were sick and sniffly and coughing, they weren't feverish or achy. And that was a stage I had hoped to avoid. Which meant we had to avoid Scott, who was smacked upside down by some annoying little flu bug. So Scott was layed (laid? I never get that right) up in bed. He needed sleep. I knew he needed sleep. How did I know? Because my guy, who works until the job is done, no matter how long it takes, actually came home early and went to bed. Voluntarily. And stayed there for so many hours that they turned into days.

And so he slept. And I was out all day with two kids. Easy-peasy, right? Well, sure, except that those were the days that the skies opened up and spit on us. (Thanks a lot, Mother Nature. Right back atcha. ) No computer, other than my ipod and cell phone (hello twitter updates!) No work, because two kids are... um... well... let's just say I was a little tired at the end of the day. (Okay, fine, I passed out in my kids bed every night at 8pm. There, are you happy?) I got nothing done but keeping the kids alive and keeping my Sweet Baboo asleep in a different room. For days. I'm pretty sure that they skipped baths two nights in a row, but nobody actually complained. And now that we have a dog, we can blame a lot on the wet dog smell. (yay!)

And yesterday, the sun was shining, and my sweetie pie got up. He wasn't completely well, but he was definitely better. So laden with bottles of Robitussin, aspirin, and that nasty pink stuff you take to settle your stomach (I swear, I just totally blanked on the name - I have been losing random nouns from my memory for years), he went to work. And stayed all day. And ate dinner. And is officially on the mend.

Which means that today, my life got a little bit closer to normal.

Normal is good. Normal is underrated. I like normal. I like everyone feeling relatively healthy. I like knowing that people are leaving and returning at about the same time every day. I like knowing that if I put on Max & Ruby, I can set off fireworks, and Josie won't notice. (which is how I've managed to babble on for so long - we're on the second episode already! whoo hoo!) Who am I kidding? I love normal. Normal means that Scott goes to work and the kids go to school and playdates and I go to work, and then we come home and we fuss over the homework, and play, and eat dinner, and fuss over baths and bedtime, and struggle briefly with the 'family bed' concept that we should really put an end to, but it's never worth the fight THAT night, we'll save it for the weekend, except that weekend never actually gets there (maybe this weekend?) but eventually we all fall asleep. Maybe not where we planned to be, but all sleeping somewhere. Sometimes spread out in several rooms, sometimes like a big pile of puppies, all on one bed. And in those in between moments when we wake in the middle of the night, when a small sleepy body has snuggled into yours, and you reach out and hold a hand, or press your face into their hair and inhale deeply, these moments, this sleep... this is the sweet stuff of life. This is normal. This is all I want.

[Oh, and since this is technically a work blog, here's some recent pics!)

So many new things...

Hello, my faithful 15. I've missed you so. It's been such a fast summer! Has it flown by for you, too? So many things have happened in the last few weeks. At our last little chat, I mentioned I was having weight loss surgery. Well, let me tell you - it's the best decision I ever made. Everything is going well, and I feel great. Thanks to everyone who sent such nice wishes my way!

The studio is hosting a workshop on September 20th from 4-7 pm, on creating an Artist Statement. The cost is $35, and is limited to 7 participants. Writing about your work can be much harder than actually creating the art itself. If you plan on being a working artist (or even a working-at-a-coffeeshop-while-creating-art artist) you will need to have an Artist Statement. It will be fun and painless, I promise. Coffee included. :) Interested? Send an email and I'll send you the registration information.

We have a couple new additions to our home... a dog named Katie and a kitten named Zeke. The general response has been something along the lines of, "TWO new animals at once? Are you crazy?" And many different versions of, "But you're so NOT a dog person!" Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't let my kids wear shoes in the house, I don't let them eat in the living room, and I have a white couch. What was I thinking?? Apparently, that a black kitten and a REALLY furry dog would cure me of any remaining germ phobias. Seriously, though - it just seemed... right. We had researched finding the perfect dog - hypoallergenic, good with kids, etc. And we almost went the way of a breeder. It was more expensive, but we thought it would be worth it. Except I couldn't quite bring myself to do it. We kept looking at the animal rescue organizations' pages, and there are just SO many animals out there that need a home. We called about a few, but nothing really was just right. So we decided to go to one of the Petsmart adoption fairs, with Lost Dog and Cat Rescue. We saw one that looked perfect online, but the foster mom said that she probably wouldn't be good with a 3 year old. As we were watching them come out of the van, this furry little creature walks by us. We make the obligatory, "oh, aren't you cute!" coos and start to scratch her behind the ears, when she drops to the ground and rolls over to have us rub her belly. Well. Apparently, I'm quite easy. I fell in love right there on the spot. We did a kitty test (make sure that she wouldn't attack the kitten), and then brought them both home. The rest is history! Our plans: hypoallergenic non-shedding puppy from a breeder. Our result: a 30 pound, 5 (ish) year old, furry, somewhat stinky love mop. And we wouldn't have it any other way. (And Zeke, of course! Zeke is a black kitty who goes into crazy kitten mode at the drop of a hat. He's a total whackjob, and we adore him!)

If you're considering a pet, PLEASE look at adopting. The perfect dog is out there, just looking for you.

I'll be posting some client work from the last few weeks soon - stay tuned!

Big day tomorrow!

An acquaintance wrote this on her page on a forum we're both on, dedicated to weight loss surgery. She said I could quote her, and I wanted to credit her, but I only know her username: Bitchy McSnipe. (Incidentally, I LOVE that username.) Anyway, this is what she wrote:

I love my fat.
It padded me when I fell and kept me warm in the cold.
It gave me non-traditional heroes and even stranger interests.
It taught me that you can get higher quality love interests at 236 lbs with a quick wit, joi de vivre, fierce style, and sincere confidence than you ever could with a tiny ass and a cookiecutter personality.
It introduced me to meet the most creative and interesting friends on the planet.
It trusted me to build my own distinct and evolved style as I was unable to fit - literally - into mainstream beauty standards.
It showed me that when you accept yourself and every inch of your body, you and your lovers will know the ancient pleasures of the courtesans.
It kept me from leading a superficial lifestyle and drove me to travel the world in search of more.
It showed me how to fight back, and where to hide the bodies.
It taught me to wear my scars like jewels.

And now that I've learned all of its lessons, it's time to let it go.

And that's where I am now. In about 10 hours, I will be deep in a drug-induced sleep, having my insides rearranged a bit, with the goal of having my outside look and feel gads better. Eventually. Soon. Not soon enough, but sooner than if I did nothing. And I haven't been doing nothing. For 25 years I've been dieting myself heavier and heavier, and somewhere inside this chubby suit I've created around myself, there's a much smaller and healthier me just itchin' to get out.

So as of right now, I'm officially on a little medical vay-cay. I'm planning on taking a week to really do nothing but heal and adjust to this new lifestyle. And after that, I'll be returning calls and messages again. As much as I'd love to try and work through this, I know I'm going to be on some really good painkillers, and will probably not remember any conversation we had. Or, more likely, I'll hallucinate a conversation that we never had, and I'll be convinced - CONVINCED - that we talked about something. And if you come by, there's a really good chance I"ll put my head on your shoulder and say, "Mmmmmmcozy." Just ask Michael. I did it last week when she drove me home from a test I was drugged for, and she nearly ran off the road from shock when I did it. (I may be warm and fuzzy, but I'm not touchy feely.)

ANYway. I'm pretty excited about the whole thing. Nervous, of course. But strangely looking forward to it. And I will admit - after 8 years of responsible middle-aged mommyhood, I'm totally looking forward to that little bit of time where the painkillers are working their magic and I'm not in pain, but the world is swirling around me. (Okay, so it sounds really pathetic when I write it, but come on, I haven't had a really good buzz in nearly a decade!!)

I'll have my phone and will update the blog and facebook via twitter assuming I can text 2555555#4447777#9335555551 (go ahead, text those numbers, it's not THAT hard to figure out.) :)

Okay. Yeah, I'm procrastinating at this point. I need to finish a little work. I need to pack. I need to sleep. I need to hug my kids, but they aren't here (sleepover at Grammy's house). I need to snuggle with my Sweet Baboo for a little while tonight before I fall asleep. And then I need to get up and start my new life.

Three is the magic number....

Today was a fantastic maternity session. And about 15 minutes into it, I got this song stuck in my head. And now I can't stop thinking about it. Thus is the legacy of Schoolhouse Rock. I loved Schoolhouse Rock. And really, not even in the past tense. I bought the complete DVD collection and got my kids hooked on it. too. I loved Bill (from Capitol Hill) and Lolly (who was obsessed with adverbs), but that was nothing to how obsessed I have been with the number three today. It is, after all, the magic number.

And today, I photographed 3. (Well, three and a half. Soon to be 4.) And yesterday there were three. Three is good.

I'm so far behind in posting images. I wish I could post them all. But there is good news ahead! I actually AM almost done with getting the website running. I know, I know, I've been promising it forever. But now the structure is there, we're fine-tuning it, and I'm about to start uploading images. Whoo hoo! What prompted this sudden return to web-sitedness? (I know, it's not a REAL word, but it works for me.) One might think it was the constant, and never-ending harassment of Michael, my site designer. Or the fact that Stephanie has been talking to Michael behind my back, working up a plan for them to do my site without any input from me (which, honestly, would have been a pretty good site, I'm sure!) Or that Barbi, a photographer I have worked with for a REALLY long time, recently told me that in all the time she's known me, I haven't actually had a website, just a blog and a "check back soon" site. That was a little embarrassing, I'll admit. But really, it wasn't that either.

So what was it? Well, honestly, it was shiny objects. I kept seeing other websites and thought, wow, I want one of those! (You know all the stuff they have at the counter for impulse shoppers? They should have my name on them. I am the reason they sell Diet Coke, Chapstick, and nail clippers at the counter.) Speaking of which, I could really go for a diet coke right now. I have to say, now that my kids are older, I am really starting to miss one of my favorite perks of pregnancy - the willingness of your husband to go out at 1 am for a Slurpee. I just asked. I didn't actually see him roll his eyes as he said, "no", but I felt it all the same. See? Shiny object.

But backto the website - don't check it now. Give me a few days. (Yeah, like you haven't heard THAT one before.) It would have actually been done by now, but, um, er, let's just say I blame Apple and my AmEx points. Together, they have conspired to get me addicted to playing games on my shiny new iPod. I fought the battle and lost.

Until then, enjoy these pics. They are from the last two weeks. There are more, and I'll post them soon.

vote for me! vote for me!!!

So apparently, I'm in a contest.  I had no idea until a friend of mine pointed it out.  It's the Nickelodeon's Parents' Picks awards, and I'm up for best local family photographer.  How cool is that??  And just in case I don't win, I'd like to say, It's an honor just to be nominated.  (But really, I REALLY want to win!!  :)  )

So, um, if you happen to think I'm pretty good and would like to send a vote or two my way, please do!  Here's the link:  Vote For me!!  

All I need is some chicken wire and some seeds

And chickens.  I'd need the chickens.  And  a little house for them to go in and out of.  And some straw.  Chickens need lots of straw, I think.  

I want to raise chickens.  I have been overcome by this desire to raise my own poultry.  For the eggs only, of course.  I call in reinforcements to kill spiders.  I'm pretty sure I won't be up for the carnage of turning semi-pet poultry into nuggets (since that's still the only way my daughter will eat chicken).  I mentioned this to my husband, just wondering out loud really, if we were allowed to raise chickens in Arlington.

"NO.  Absolutely not!  I will not participate in ANY PART in raising livestock!"  

Frankly, I thought that was a bit over the top as far as protests go.  I mean, livestock? Really?  They're just chickens.  People keep birds in their houses all the time.   And these would be in the back yard.  In a coop.  (I'm so suburban.  I see "coop" and I read "Co-op", as in preschool. haha.)

My aunt Judy used to have a pet chicken.  According to my dad (for he's the only one who seems to remember these strange little nuggets of family history on that side), Judy had a pet chicken, and it loved her and hated everyone else.  It would actually attack people.   An attack chicken.  Can you imagine the little warning sign on the front yard?  They didn't live on a farm, either.  This is was in the suburbs.  Or maybe the city.  My dad grew up in DC, and then they moved to Springfield (A VA suburb, for those of my 15 who aren't local) at some point, but I don't know when.   But either way, it wasn't a farm pet.  It was either a city pet or a suburb pet.  Granted, it was just one.  And I want more than one.  I want a coop-ful.

I think raising your own chickens to produce your eggs would be pretty cool!  I have never had eggs fresh from under a chicken's tushy, but I've heard that they are really good when they are that fresh.  Granted, most of the eggs I've cooked have lingered in my fridge for quite a long time.  They are anti-fresh, really (but they peel easier!)  So clearly, I wouldn't need that many eggs at any one point.

How hard can it be to raise chickens?  We don't really have a wolf problem here, and we wouldn't need that many  - just enough so they can keep themselves company.  Do you need to have a rooster if you have chickens?  Roosters might be a problem.  We've been something of a nuisance neighbor for the last year, what with the addition, and the ever present contractor trucks and backhoes.  I think a rooster might just be the last straw for my neighbors.  Neighbors, I'd like to point out, who have been INCREDIBLY nice about the inconveniences we've put them through.  I'm pretty sure that even if I offered them the occasional fresh egg, the rooster might not be acceptable.    Which is too bad.  Because our bedroom faces the back, and a rooster would be a fantastic alarm clock.  (I can hit the snooze button and not even wake up to do it!)

So no rooster.  But the chickens...  chickens would be cool.  

How germy do you think they are?  I am a wee bit of a germaphobe  (I will save the joys of potty training a child who loves public restrooms for another post).  Can you give chickens a bath?  I used to have 4 cats, surely bathing chickens can't be any worse than that.    It's probably not necessary, though.   I mean, you can wash the eggs (when, in the process do you do that?  Immediately after capture, or right before cooking?), and you can use hand sanitizer.  That should be effective enough, I imagine.

I don't know why I want to do this.  It's probably just an extension of my desire, every spring, to grow all my own produce in my own little garden.  We did it one year when we lived in Boston (okay, Quincy).  We had all these raised organic garden beds, and we grew everything.   We had salads every night (tomatoes and lettuce were my big successes).   I've tried growing things here, but we had some problems.  Squirrels.  Raccoons ate my corn.  Cicadas ate everything else.  (It may have been some other creature, but it was when the cicadas were here, so I'm blaming them anyway.)   After that summer, we tore out the garden and put in a swingset.

 We're going to try again this year, though.  We try every year.  I love having a garden.  This time, we're going to put it in the front yard, where it will get lots of sun.  We're going to grow so many things.  Veggies on one side of the yard, flowers on the other.  Cucumbers for Ian. Sunflowers for Josie.  Green onions for Scott (who is totally on board with the garden stuff).  My kids seem so excited about it.  I can't wait until we're out there digging in the dirt together, planting everything.  I want to get them hooked on the experience. (Yes, this is my fantasy.  Because I have done other projects with my children, and I am fairly confident that our 'experience' will also involve much whining, cajoling, and complaining, but that's not part of my fantasy, so it's staying out of the story until it actually happens.)  

Someday, when they're much much older, I might tell them about the summer we almost raised chickens.

We're going to have cake, and be princesses, and have a party, and have cake...

That is what Josie said she was going to do on her birthday.  Clearly, she has the right idea!

She wanted to take a few pics in the studio this morning (no one was more surprised than I was!), so here she is - being three.  

The first step.

Hello everyone.  My name is Liz.  And I'm an addict.  A junkie.  A user.  I have tried to resist, but I can't.  I'm just not strong enough.  It - they - have this power over me that is overwhelming.  I see them, and I MUST have them.   I don't even give it a second thought.  My friends have gone with me to keep me in check, but the moment they turn their back, I'm at the next corner, whispering, "How much?"   I'm supposed to be buying them so I can sell them.  But it's so hard for me to part with them.  I want them all.  I sometimes "forget" to mention that I have any available, just so I can keep them to myself.  

And now, now it's starting to affect my life.  Whenever I bring a new one home, I try and hide it in my office, hoping no one will notice (and if you've ever seen my office, you know that is not an unreasonable hope).  But every once in a while, Kris, my business manager, will have to look for something in the office, and she'll come across my stash.  She gets that look of exasperated disappointment in her eyes.  "Another one??!  Really, this has got to stop!"  But I can't.  I'm an addict.  I can't help it.  

I just love frames.

And I have WAY too many of them in stock.  Nice frames.  REALLY nice frames.  So I think we're going to have a special of some sort.  I haven't figured out what it will be yet.   If any of you, my faithful 15, are going to be having an ordering session coming up, remind me that while I may love my frames, I really need to share the love.  Specifically, I need to share them with YOU.   

I'm going to miss them when they're gone.  Of course, I just ordered new corners for these absolutely adorable frames that I'm going to be offering soon.  (Shhhh!  Don't tell Kris!)  Here's a preview of just how adorably cute they are:

  

I LOVE them.  (Btw, that's my wee beastie on the right.)

So .... other news...  I managed to squeeze ten people into my teeny tiny studio this morning.  Nobody was more surprised than I was that I actually pulled this off!  This client is one of my favorites - she's been coming since her first baby was born, and now we're on baby number two!  I love it when her family comes to town, because she frequently brings them over for a quick mini-session, and I get a visit!  I get to meet a lot of grandparents when new babies are born, and it's one of those things that has always given me the warm fuzzies.  I love when I get to know the extended families of my clients.  It makes the whole world feel a little big friendlier to me.    So - ten people.  Want to see?   Good, because I want to show off a little bit!!  :)  

 

These guys were DONE.  They lasted an impressive amount of time!  

It's funny - 90% of my clients bring me babies.   And then they grow up.   I'm starting to have a crop of bigger kids come in, which I suppose, logically, I really should have expected.    But it still is catching me by surprise.  And then there was another surprise - I really ENJOY working with these kids!   [Before I had children, my work was very un-child friendly, as are most photographers when they are first starting out, and trying to be either arty or journalisty (yes, those are real words.  I just made them up, but they're real NOW.)  I was doing a little bit of both.]   My comfort zone has always been the age of my oldest kid, and younger.  Well, my kid will be eight this summer (EIGHT??!!!  More on that later!)  and I'm working with all these BIG kids. Which I thought I wouldn't enjoy, but I do!  They're fun!  They make me laugh as often as I try and squeeze (not literally) a giggle out of them.   This is a great job, I have to admit.  

Eight.  Seriously.  (Okay, in 5 months, but that is much closer than  you'd think). He orders off the adult menu as much as the kid's menu these days.  My daughter is almost potty trained, and by the end of the summer, I'll only need one booster seat.  We got rid of the monster stroller last summer.  No more diapers.  No infant car seats.   No more babies.  They're both kids now.  Just kids.   Although, as long as Josie is still in preschool, I have a little bit longer to belong to the club.  The "Mom's with small children" club.  Which feels much more exclusive when you're out of it than when you're in it.

I think I want to plant a tree.   I wonder if there's a "mom's with young trees" club?

It's 10 pm - do you know where your children are?

I do.  Because mine have become, well, barnacles.  I went out of town a few weeks ago, and ever since I got back, Josie won't leave my side and Ian has quit threatening to move.   Not run away, mind you.  He's very methodical about it.  He has packed several bags, and even gave me an actual move date, which, conveniently, kept getting pushed back (the thought of missing the Easter Bunny was horrible).  Where was his dream world where nobody made him do homework and he could watch all the tv he wanted? (Seriously, those were his two demands.)  West Virginia.  I have NO idea how that became the Land of Wonder, but it was.  Until we went to Pennsylvania for New Years Eve.  We drove by Dutch Wonderland, and I was telling him how it was a shame that he was moving to W. VA, because he'd miss going to Dutch Wonderland with us in the summer.  He thought about it very seriously, and then got this huge smile on his face.  "I know!"  he said.  "I'll move to Pennsylvania instead!!" Well, so much for THAT brilliant idea.  But still.  I had hopes that he'd forget about it, even though every time he was angry, I'd hear a door slam and muffled mutterings of, "I'm going to move NOW! Come on, Flat Teddy, we're OUT OF HERE!"  Fortunately, being my child, he was blessed with an occasionally short attention span, and could be easily distracted with a little Spongebob.  Bad mommy, I know.

But as I was saying, ever since my trip, where I was gone for almost a week, well, a week-ish...  I'm not sure, to be honest.  It seemed like forever and it seemed like it lasted 5 minutes, depending on what I was doing at the time.  But I was gone.  And when I came home, both children rushed me at the door.  It's wonderful to be welcomed home like that.  Ian told me he decided he wasn't going to move.  No preamble, no explanation, just. not. moving.  Yay!  Josie showed me how much she missed me in other ways.  Refusing to go to school.  Not wanting to play with Margot (my mother's helper, who is the only reason I get ANY work done mid-week).  Not wanting to go to the sitters.  Not wanting to do anything but sit on the couch and watch Dora with me.  I'd like to point out that while I do enjoy sitting on the couch for various activities, watching Dora is sooooo far down that list that even cuddling with Josie loses its appeal after the first 15 minutes.  Oh, and the biggest thing?  She insists on being near me when she falls asleep.  Which means either I go to bed with her (and I fall asleep, because she is quite warm and cuddly), or she sleeps in the living room.  Which is where she is right now.  In the playyard, snoring away, 10 feet from me.  Scott has managed to get her to go to sleep with him a few times when she's really tired or I have to go out, but for the most part, this is it.  She's a barnacle.  My cute little Sweet Babboo is the barnaclebabe.

I'm not sure why I wanted to tell all of you that.  But it's now 10:30, I'm listening to some cool tunes I found on itunes yesterday (Holly Conlan - very nice music to edit by!) and just enjoying the near quiet  (the music is pretty low, so I don't wake my snoring barnaclebabe).  

She's turning 3, you know.  In about 2 weeks.  And I don't know how that happened so quickly.  I just photographed a baby for her 10 month pics, and it seems like it was just yesterday that we did her newborn session (here's a couple from the recent session, btw.) 

 

It's going so fast.  I know that, to her parents, the thought of her turning 3 is practically inconceivable.  She's still learning how to stand.  How to talk.  How to find small choking-hazard objects and get them in her mouth before you notice.  You have a long way to go before you're worrying about potty training.  Crossing the street and holding hands.  Preschool.  Ponytail ribbon preferences.  Princess dresses.  

Princesses!  How did we get to princesses so fast?!  It was only a year ago I was mocking the princess thing.  We're so NOT doing the princess thing, I declared.   Uh huh.  I should have just called Disney right there and set up an account with them.  Sleeping Beauty, my least favorite princess, is of course, the Wee Beastie's favorite.  I am fairly sure it's because the dress is pink.  Oh, and that's another thing I was totally NOT  going to do.  Pink.  I wanted her to wear orange, and green, and purple, and red, and yellow, and black.  Lots of black.   But no pink.  And what is her favorite color now?  Yeah.  It happens.  And now *I* love pink.  And *I* am going gaga over the princess dolls with their pretty, delicate dresses and accessories.   I want to buy her a castle tent for her bed and stencil dragons and musketeers on her walls.  I love that she has worn a tiara every day this week (her "terrarra").  I can't help it.  Apparently, there really was a girlygirl in me somewhere, just itching to get out.

And this baby girl that I just photographed.  This 10 month old, who is going to be 3.... soon. What will she be like?  Will we remember what she is like today?  Or tomorrow?  Will she be a princess?  A tomboy?  A daddy's girl?  (mine SO is!)  Will she love pink?  Or will she want to play in the dirt and climb trees?  Will my princess figure out soon that it's so much easier to climb trees if you're not worried about your skirt?  I hope so.  I want her to have scabs on her knees and pine sap on her hands.  I love it when she comes in and her ponytails have shifted and are fuzzy, and she's got dirt on her cheeks, and is missing a shoe.  Because you have to have some SERIOUS fun to end up that way.  I want her to have fun.  I want that to be what she remembers about being a kid.  That she had a fun childhood.  Even if, at some point, she threatens to move to Miami because I won't let her watch Dora all day long.  I can live with that.  I can live with the princess thing.  I can live with her aging at a frighteningly disturbing pace.  I can live with Dora on the couch.  I can live with pink. 

 I love living with pink.

Despite rumors to the contrary...

I have NOT fallen off the face of the earth.  I know, I know.  I've missed you so, my faithful fifteen... my delightful dozen (plus three).... my... okay, I just ran out of words.  I was trying to find a Q word that would work with "quince" but I just couldn't make it work.  I'm sorry.  I feel as if I have let you down, and I'm just getting started.  

But enough of that.  I have some things to show you.  I have some things to tell you, too, but I'm sure that doesn't surprise anyone.

Here's a little bit of what I've been up to lately...

     

I've had a few babies+older siblings sessions lately.  This weekend, I had two.  Two toddlers with absolutely NO desire to be photographed.   It happens.  It's actually kind of funny when it does, because they are sooo determined to not give in.  And they get that lower lip jutting out, and putting their little feet down, and just doing everything possible to NOT do what you want them to do.  You really have to admire their determination!  

Oh!  And this year's convention and print competition!  I did pretty well.  I had three blue ribbon prints, which makes me happy.    I'm having problems with uploading images, but here is a link to them. 

If you're a photographer, and you want to get a little professional educatin' this weekend, Jeff and Carrolle Dachowski are coming down from New Hampshire to teach an all-day outdoor lighting seminar in Alexandria.  I did a photo safari with them a couple years ago, and it was one of the best moves I ever made.  Seriously.  If you're free on Sunday or Monday, you MUST GO TO THIS.  Of course, if you're not a photographer, you don't HAVE to go.  It would be a little strange, really.  You show up, and they start talking about scrims and fill and asking you which model you want to work with, and finally you say, "Um... I'm an accountant.  I was told I HAD to go to this.  So here I am.  Got anything for me to audit?" 

Well, it *could* happen, you know.

Interested?  Excellent!  Drop me an email and I'll send you the brochure and contact info. 

That's all for now.  I have to go do some mom stuff for a little while, and then I'll be back.  I'm always back.  You know I can't stay away for too long.

You've got the cutest little angel face.... (sing it with me!)

Okay, so I swear, I was going to talk about how tomorrow I have a one-year session with a baby that I photographed while she was still a belly bump, and several times since, and how we change so much that we hardly notice it every day.  But I got a little sidetracked.  And I had a newborn session today that was part-two of a belly/baby package.  I LOVED this belly shot and wanted to show you.  But again - got a  little sidetracked.  (Seriously, I am worse than a crow - there are distracting shiny objects everywhere!)  This was such a fun client.  I had a ball during the belly session.  We tried and tried to get some sleeping pics, but this little girl was having none of it.  (We'll have another little mini-session when we proof on Friday, because dang it, I *like* the sleeping baby pics!  I want to do them!)

Until then....

let's start with the belly....and then the baby!

  

Ch ch ch changes....

So is anyone else excited about the "DC Event" that will be happening on Tuesday?  I'm calling it that, because that's what the highway department is calling it, which I think is *really* funny.  (Seriously - the blinky signs on 395 say, "DC Event....take public transit".)  I love how they've taken what is the biggest thing to happen in this town in, well, just about ever, and reduced it to 'take public transit'.  It's so... understated.  And I just find that funny.  Because that's about the ONLY place that isn't buzzing with excitement.

The world hasn't changed.  We will still be in the same stinkin' war we've been in for almost as long as I've had children.  Our economy is doing about the same, and I don't think it's going to miraculously recover after Tuesday.  Bad things will still happen to good people.  And yet... it's different.  It just feels different.  It feels like how I imagine it feels when a war is over definitively.  When they announce it on the news and the radio.  We won.  We're coming home.  You can relax.  Everything will be okay now, and you can sleep soundly at night.  

And I think that it is a little bit of that.  But this wasn't so much a war between political parties.  It wasn't between any particular groups at all, really.  It was a war of cynicism and fear versus hope and faith in the possibilities of... of.... of possibility.   And finally, after years of hearing about how awful everything is and how we should be afraid of everything, finally, it feels like maybe it's okay to look for the happy ending after all.   Instead of looking down at your feet when you pass someone unfamiliar, you want to smile and say, "Hey!  how are you?"  It makes me want to buy the world a coke.  It's going to be a good day today.  And tomorrow.  And maybe even the next day.  

I really hope this feeling lasts.  I love this feeling.

I'm back - did you miss me?

Because I have missed you.  Really, I have.  All 15 of you!  (the 15 of you that I'm not related to, that is.)  August.  That was the last time I posted.  It's shameful, it really is.  I go and start a blog, have a couple people who actually read it (I know!  Nobody was more surprised than I was!) and then... poof!  Off the planet I fall.  Into the mist.   

Last year was a good year, but toward the middle, it got complicated.  My son has some issues that, the more we learned about, the more time we found ourselves focusing on.    The house thing - well, let's just say the house thing is ALMOST done (and I'll be posting to the house blog soon with pictures!  I know, I know, you're not holding your breath.  But I really am going to.  This time I mean it.)  I cut back tremendously with work.   I love what I do, but when  you have to decide between your kids and your job... I'm just so happy that I'm in a position that I CAN choose my kids first every time.  I know how lucky I am. 

Okay, this is starting to sound all serious and near-weepy.  Totally not the direction I wanted to go!  So lets recap.

August - my last post.  Since then... my great aunt Lois (who I totally adored) got really sick, I went to Columbus for a marketing blitz, Lois died while I was gone (not because of Columbus), I sang at her funeral (THAT was a new experience for me), we went to Chincoteague with the kids, immediately vowed to never take another vacation with them again (and that was before we even got to the Bay Bridge), school started, I had to pick out doorknobs and lights (it takes longer than you'd think),  our fish died one by one, until there was only one left, and after we turned off the filter (soooo much like when they turn off the machine that goes ping), Cop (yes, my son named the fish Cop), floated in the exact same place for about two weeks, until we could no longer stand that we had a zombie fish in our kitchen and we scooped him out and tossed out the tank, and while I was so worried that Ian would be freaked out by the whole dead pet thing (he was a little freaked out by Lois' funeral), it turned out that he wasn't freaked out by it at all.  His reaction was more of an "Oh well.  Can I play outside now?"    

So the death thing was fairly present for us last fall.  And yet, it wasn't.  Lois did something very few people ever get to do - she actually got to direct her own death.  She was ill for a while, and in the hospital for about a week before she realized she wasn't going to get better.  Until then, none of us even knew she was there.  Then she asked her daughter to call the family, and one by one, we showed up and sat with her, and hugged her, and sang to her, and ate ice cream with her (the woman LOVED ice cream), and said our goodbyes.  And when everyone who could come had done so, she had them stop giving her the medication that was keeping her blood pressure artificially high.  And it started to drop.  She fell asleep.  And then she fell into a coma.  And then her heart stopped.  I never understood the idea of a good death before, but I'm telling you, when it's my time to go, I want to do it like Lois.  80-something years old, eating ice cream and gossiping with my loved ones before I died in my sleep.  (did I mention that before the goodbyes, she wanted a rundown of family scandals?  Ya gotta love her.  :)  It's not quite like Elsie from Cabaret, but it was a pretty good way to go.

So, are you still with me? Surely you didn't think I'd come back with just a hi, how are you, here's a picture, catch you next week, kind of post, did you?  I mean, it's ME we're talking about.   I'm chatty.  And I had a lot of iced tea with dinner.

It's strange - almost all of my photographer friends are in Phoenix right now, at the Imaging USA convention.   They've vowed to drunk dial me every day.  (They're very good friends.)  I'm a little jealous that they are there and I'm not, but as long as Steff calls me every 15 minutes from the tradeshow to tell me about the cool new stuff, I'm happy.  :)

Okay, enough of my babbling on.  When I said I was back, I was serious - I'm back.  As I mentioned, the house is about done, my life has managed to get back to a somewhat normal routine, and I'm booking sessions again (despite what it says on the website, which I SWEAR I'm going to finally finish by the end of January.  My goals for January - new tv, new president, new website, new elliptical machine, roughly in that order.)

I'm no longer on vacation - and had my first official session of the year.  I totally adore this family - they came in last year when their wee beastie was just a few months old, and I LOVED their session.  They are wicked fun to hang out with and talk to, and I couldn't wait for them to come back.  And they did - today.  The babester is almost walking, and soooo ohmygod cute.  I love her curls.  She was a little nervous, especially when we got the cake out, but a few Pocky's go a long way.  Have a look!  (And Julie, I'm sorry you had to read so much before you got to the pictures!!)

! 

Hello my lovelies....

my fifteen plus one! 

I only have a few moments to chat, and I have so many things I want to tell you.  I'm afraid I'm going to forget them if I don't start writing soon.  So I'm going to make a little note of what I want to remember for next time, and we'll take care of it then.  [beach, missing the perfect shot,  funeral, marketing, school, singing, aging, client with kids who hate me - but not as  much as before, remodeling (in the other blog), paper-thin skin, holiday cards special, roadtrips, Rice Krispies commericals.  Roughly in that order.  I hope I remember what it was I wanted to say about them!  Oh!  And ladybugs!)

I do tend to go on, you know.

So, despite being on summer vacation, I've been pretty busy this summer.  I had some new babies, and some older babies, and some who weren't babies at all.  I bet you can guess which one is which.  And to that special someone out there who probably doesn't even read the blog,  TAKE OFF YOUR WATCH!  (It's said with love, of course.)

 

     

Here are some recent adventures.... 

More soon, I promise!

Sleep? Who needs sleep?

So it's 1:15 in the morning.  And in approximately 4 hours and 45 minutes, a friend of mine is going to be knocking at my door, waiting for me to hit the road.  I should have gone to sleep, oh, about 3 hours ago.  But I had to pack.  (I still do.)  I had to copy over some files (I still do).  I needed to do laundry (thank you sweetie for doing this while I was  out).   I have about a hundred and three things I wanted to do before I left.  And I wasn't able to do any of them,  because I had a family thing crop up, that I wasn't expecting, and I will go into much more  detail on when I get back.  (Or maybe while I'm gone. I don't know yet.)  But there are a couple things I wanted to show you (my ever faithful 15) before I left.  

First, a new baby.  Brand new!  So new, that they had to reschedule their proofing session from their maternity portraits because they were busy having her (I love it when that happens).  This couple is so much fun.  I can't wait to see them again in a few weeks.  I don't want to tell you why yet, but let's just say it involves a plaid skirt, and some hairy knees (not mine).

This little girl - I've been photographing her since before she was born.  Her mom was one of my early maternity clients, and I've seen her just about every week.  (She and my daughter are pals.)  She's such a sweetie!

(I know what you're thinking - gray?  You shoot on gray? But it's not... black!  Go ahead, you can talk.  It's okay.  What can I say, I'm branching out. hahaha)

Perhaps I should have clarified....

By more time, I meant during the day.  NOT at 3 am.  With a sick baby.  Those are some long hours.

Apparently, the gods have a sense of humor.

And of course, now, at 10 am, she's fine and dandy.  WE are exhausted, but she's peachy.  Isn't that always the way?  

I need more time.

In general.  In the day.  In my life.  I thought the summer was going to be slow and lazy, and I'd have a session here and there, but mostly would be hanging out at the pool, or at the park, (or more realistically, on my couch).  But I thought it would be me and the kids, doing all that fun stuff we're supposed to do together.  So far, we've gone to the pool a few times, we've watched a LOT of Cinderella and Pokemon (okay, they watched while I was working), and I've spent a disordinate amount of time trying to find things that were semi-packed for the construction. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, re: construction, please see the other blog.)  But  hey, at least my life is consistent, right?  And isn't that supposed to be a good thing?  :)

So, here are a few shots from recent sessions - I love it when a headshot turns into something fun.  

And the little guy in the second set - DID NOT want to be happy.  Fortunately, the mom was FINE with a little Hershey's Kiss bribe.  (I don't want to bribe my own kids with candy, but bribing clients' kids?  Standard Operating Procedure! hahaha) 

 And he perked right up!  

Shhhh! Don't mention Santa!!!

So today was an interesting day.  Ian started Magic Camp.  I love camp.  Especially camps that run 9-3.  But Magic Camp.  How cool is that!  I just knew Ian was going to be so excited, and dying to show me his new tricks when I picked him up today.  Well.  Let's just say that there was a very large part of Magic Camp that I neglected to mention to him.  The camp counselor looked so worried when I walked in.  I asked how the day went, and he said, "There was a small problem."  

Uh oh.  

Apparently, when you tell a six year old they're going to learn magic at Magic Camp, you need to tell them that it's not *actual* magic.  He was really upset.  "It's just tricks!!" he shouted at me, as if I had just upset the universe.  The counselor said, "I felt awful, it's like I told him about Santa Claus!"  AAIIIIIEEEE!!!!   Nonononono!   The look on my face was enough to make HIS face drop immediately.  I very subtly (and very quickly) shook my head no.  "I mean, about how he gets such good deals on presents!" he said.  Danger averted.  Ian ignored the Santa slip.  Whew! 

It was bad enough at Easter.  We were driving home, and out of the blue he said, "I know there's no such thing as the Easter Bunny."  

What??  "Really?", I asked, almost squeaking.

"Yeah.  It's just a guy in a rabbit suit.  But don't tell anyone, because he'll get arrested."

Hahahaha.  "Um, okay."

Magic.  There's not enough of it in the world.  I want him to be able to hang on to it as long as possible.  I don't want him to know that Santa isn't real.  Not yet.  I want him to still have that belief that anything - ANYTHING - is possible.  

Well, almost anything.  I wish he'd stop asking for a baby brother.

Okay - photo stuff!

This week was the judging for the International Print Competition.  It's the biggie.  I entered State, did okay, entered Regionals, did not as well, and entered the International Comp, expecting to have wasted lots of money and time. 

And I was wrong!!  I got two merits!  You can enter 4 prints into the Photographic Open (there are other categories, too).   It's a thumbs up/down process - either it's good enough to hang and deserving of a merit, or it's not.  And that merit is NOT easy to get, believe me.  These are my first two.  It's very exciting for me.  Almost magical.  :)

Shoutout to Chontelle!

Who informed me earlier that she is one of my fifteen!  I was so excited to hear that someone besides my family and friends subscribed!  It's really quite flattering.  Because Chontelle is a photographer.  And she's  good.  And I wish I could steal her studio name, because it's about as cute as can be - Cotton Blossoms Photography.   And something I never told her, but she is personally responsible for me singing the same song about 2 THOUSAND times from here to Seattle and back.  

(Seattle!!)

What song, you may ask?  Sometimes, by Francis England.  I LOVE this song. And so did my 2 year old, who was 16 months at the time.  And  hated flying.   [We now have several pairs of headphones donated from others on the plane who hoped that Josie would watch a video.  No such luck.  Sobbed the whole way home.  But would sob more quietly if I sang, "Sometimes".   So I did.  

(only time she was quiet.)

And I sang it in the hotel room to help her fall asleep.  And I sang it while we were walking around town, and she was done,  just DONE, with being in the stroller.  

And sometimes I still sing it.  Because it's a fun song.  But alas, she's since moved on to "One Was Johnny", sung by Carole King.

[When Ian was that age, I had to sing, "When I grow up" by Michelle Shocked.  And then he moved up to Jazz Bird (from My One And Only).  And now, his favorite song is Ironman.  Egads.  I blame his father for this.]  

I love that my kids are into such a variety of music.   I have some children's CDs.  Some of them I don't think my kids have ever even heard (Jack Johnson, you say you're for children, but please.  You're mine, all mine!)  And some, well, let's just acknowledge right now that just because you have a CD doesn't mean your music is any good.   Blech.

Music.  wait, how did I end up on music?  I wanted to talk about Chontelle.  And her website.  Because I saw her website before I ever met her.  And I use the term 'met' loosely, because we knew each other first on a photography forum, and it wasn't until we went to the PPA convention in Tampa that we met F2F, as they say in the World of Lazy Thumbs. (You texters who don't write in complete sentences, you know who you are.)

So Chontelle.  And her website.  A while back, before I really knew what I wanted my work to look like, I spent a lot of time looking at other people's work.   And I was jealous, because it seemed like so many of these photographers knew each other.  And I didn't know ANYONE.  Photography can be a really lonely business.  You work alone in the studio (well, except for your clients, of course), and alone while you're editing.  You have to figure out the 'how to make this a business' part all on your own because you don't even know who to ask.  It's pretty solitary.  (And it's improved - remember the darkroom?  We all worked with the radios on for company.  Remind me to tell you someday about when someone called the cops on me for that.)

But it can be pretty lonely until you meet some folks.  You really don't even know what to ask, or who to ask to find out.  And this is where I'm going with this post. (Hah!  You thought it was going to be about my kids again, didn't you?!)   I remember when I was setting up my business, getting registered, figuring out how to pay taxes, looking for insurance... I remember thinking that there was SO much more to having a photography business than taking pictures.  Taking the pictures is the smallest part of it all.  And I wondered if it was what I really wanted to do.  I loved creating the images.  But the business part... it was so much work just figuring out HOW.  I wished I had someone to ask.

And I kept running into this guy Jeff, who kept trying to get me to go to a VPPA meeting.   VPPA is the Virginia Professional Photographer's Association.  But... I don't know.  It was a little intimidating - I didn't know anyone.  I didn't know if I even knew anyTHING.   I didn't want to make a fool of myself.  Eventually, though, my resolve weakened and I went to a meeting.  And I met some amazing people.  And they were all willing to answer just about any question I had, no matter how basic.  And then I found PPA, which is (come on, I'm sure you can guess!)  The Professional Photographers of America.  Again - amazing people, willing to answer anything.  I can't begin to tell you how important both of these organizations have been to me, and how much my growth has been directly related to my membership with them.  

Now I know that at least one of my 15 is a client, and by now has probably fallen asleep.  But I'm hoping that maybe one of you is a new photographer.  Someone who is doing what I did - looking at everyone's sites and blogs (which weren't even around when I was starting).  And I'm hoping you've made it this far.  There's only a little bit more to go, I promise.  There really is a payoff.

So back to the PPA/VPPA/SEPPA (Southeast).  They've given me more than I can ever quantify.   And one of the things that everyone should do, when given the opportunity, is to give back.  PPA has a way for you to do that.  It's called Super Monday.  Twice a year, spring and fall, PPA sponsors peer education.  If you know something, chances are, there's someone out there who wants to learn it.  And now that I've been at this gig for a while, I feel like I might know a thing or two.  So in November, I'm going to be teaching a Super Monday class.  The class is The Business of the Art.  And it's about all those things you need to do to make this photography thang an actual business.  (Trust me, there's a lot.)  So if you're new to this, and you don't know who to ask what, this would be a great class for you.  And I'd love to meet you.  

So to summarize, Chontelle's was one of the sites I looked at when I was green and learning and didn't know anyone except my children who cry on airplanes except when being sung a song that I first heard on Chontelle's website that I looked at when I was green and learning and didn't know anyone until I joined VPPA which led me to PPA which led me to a forum where I met Chontelle.

Ya got that?  :)

A moment of silence, please

We barely made it through unscathed.  The list came out, and we were untouched. 

You know what I'm referring to...  Starbucks.  The list of store closures.  None of mine have been closed.  (whew!)

But then, I was informed this morning (at the Starbucks drive-through,  natch) that there will soon be another loss.  

They are getting rid of the Skinny Mocha.

I know, I know.  Why would they ever want to get rid of something so perfect?  

Well, apparently, it was only perfect to me.   (And a few others, I'm sure.)

Skinny Mocha Triple Shot, we hardly knew ye.

(and yes, this is a  snap of the one sitting right in front of me as I type.)

Today was a good day!

I spent the entire day in the studio, hung out with my kids a bit, and then we all went out to dinner with friends.   Of course, now I'm supposed to be cleaning and organizing and doing all that stuff you need to do on Sunday nights to get ready for the next day.  And I'll do that.  But it's only midnight.  The evening is just getting started.  Remember when we were young, and we'd start getting ready to go out around 9 or 10?  My life is still so much like that!  But the middle-aged self-employed with kids version.  

Age 24:  shower at 9 pm

Age 40:  kids bath at 9pm

Age 24:  9:30 pm telling stories to the cute guy next to you

Age 40:  9:30 pm telling stories to the cute kid next to you

Age 24:  having a drink at 11

Age 40: six year old wakes up and needs a drink at 11

Age 24:  Midnight, just figuring out what to do next - The Tombs or Mr. Days

Age 40: Midnight, figuring out what do to next - file some paperwork or fold laundry

Age 24:  2 am - woozy, need to go to bed

Age 40: 2 am - woozy, need to go to bed

Age 24:  7 am - hitting the snooze alarm 20 times before getting up for work, swearing you'll go to bed earlier that night.

Age 40:  7 am - hitting the snooze alarm 20 times before getting up to get the kids to school, swearing you'll go to bed earlier that night.

My life hasn't changed all that much.

Well, except that the job I had at 24 was NOT the one I wanted.  It was the one I did while I did all the stuff to get the job I wanted (did you follow that?  Job at 24: blech.  Job at 40: sweet!)

So, about that job... want to see what I did at work today?  Because I want to show you.

The first session was a 4 month session of the cutest little guy.    They came in for his newborn session and I LOVED them.  And I swear, it's not because they went to Starbucks on the way. (That does help, by the way.)  And today was just as good.  Great family - so much fun to work with.  We only stopped because their  wee beastie was done with me.  I borrowed the giant teacup from a friend, and I'm really hoping she forgot she lent it to me, because it was pretty fun.  (And no, this is not the size of the coffee I require to get started in the morning, har har.)  The family pic is my new favorite family shot.  And it wasn't even my idea!  The mom came up with the whole thing.  It was fantastic!  :)

My second client of the day was a maternity session.  And again, they were SO much fun!  I don't know how I've managed to do this, but it seems like every person who has walked through my door this year has been someone I would want to hang out with all day long.   And in this case, 'all day' was three hours plus... and I still didn't want them to leave.  Half the time, I keep shooting just because we're having fun and I don't want it to end. 

I love how she looks in these.  I hope they do, too.