The Candy's always sweeter in the toe of another's stocking.

I have so much food thanks to Christmas - Jr. Mints (my fave), nerds, gum, candy canes(the old fashioned soft kind), ring pops...oh so much. And then I have stacked on my counter goodies - Chocolate covered peanut butter on ritz sandwiches, candied pecans, glass candy. And then there's leftover Christmas dinner - brown sugar ham, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole...

And all I can think about, All I want, All my mouth is drooling for is the gigantic box of Milk Dud's Santa brought for Troy.
Troy's at Basketball practice....
Maybe he's forgotten he got milk duds...
Maybe he doesn't like them anyway...
MAYBE I should spare him the potential cavities.

Sigh. I'll be strong. And maybe I'll be extra sweet when he gets home and he'll have to share! :)

King Kong.

For Christmas, Grant got a Little People Garage. It took him very little time to discover that it could also be a climbing apparatus. Even after being dragged down multiple times and even falling over once, he pulls his chubby little self on top of his garage and just sits there happy as can be... Silly little monkey....
PS - I realize his eyes look TERRIBLE here, but he has some terrible headcold/pinkeye. Poor guy. He just can't seem to stay healthy! But I had to post this picture of his leg sticking out of his car elevator.
PPS. And yes, that's a Wii box behind him...Santa was very good to Mason this year! :) Now I gotta go play some Mario Kart!

When life gives you praline soup...

make candied pecans!

That's what I did! So take that Ebeneezer! You're not hanging out here this Christmas.

And a true Christmas miracle occurred this afternoon because Mason and I delivered goodies in Christmas tins to five of our neighbors. I finally did it. Not in perfectly wrapped goodies with ribbons and bows and handwritten handmade notes, but they were delivered just the same. And it made mason and i both feel very merry and bright.

:)

It's official.

I'm not betty crocker.

I know. You're terribly shocked.

See, every year since I became a wife, I've had this vision of making Christmas goodies for all my friends and some neighbors and we'd go about delivering them with smiley faces and carols in the car. It's never, not once, been done. The closest I ever got was the time I made dozens of batches of hard cinnamon candy for the golfers at Bentwood when I worked there.

So, today, I went to HEB armed with a list of supplies. My first sign of impending doom should have been the absence of three items that I needed. I should have considered it a sign.

Not so. I persisted in my shopping in the craziness with all the other crazies at HEB who had also waited till this late hour to do their baking.

When I got home, the first item on my list of goodies to tackle was pralines. I LOVE them. My grandmother always made them. My mom, however, never was successful at making them. They always became what we jokingly called Praline soup. They never hardened, try as she might.

You might ask why I would choose to begin with an item that has proven to be a failure in my genetic past. I don't know. I really don't. I could say something about wanting the hardest treat to be done while kids are asleep. whatever. I shouldn't have started there.

I now have about 50 lovely blobs of praline soup on my countertop.

I measured precisely. I boiled to the exact temperature. I beat vigorously. And beat some more. And called troy to beat some more. And beat them again. Thinking they were getting thicker, I began spooning them out.

Nope.
Soup.

Now, the blow to my ego, as I really did think I was Betty Crocker up until this point(haha), was bad enough but the fact that FOUR CUPS of pecans are ruined is beyond devastating. That's like throwing money in the trash.

Sigh. It's only a matter of time until I begin to inhabit my mom's body as I am mere steps from the complete metamorphosis into her. I hate the vacuum cleaner. I can't find my "safe places" and I almost bought a jumbo sized container of bungee cords the other day. If only the things like excellent gardener, genius on all subjects and diligent vitamin taker would find its way into my system...

I'd like to say that the tragedies stopped there. No. While waiting for the pralines to boil to whatever degree it was, I melted chocolate for another recipe. I haven't a clue how, but somehow that chocolate didn't get all melty...

I don't even have the energy to explain. I have a whole kitchen to clean and no food to show for it.

Next year. There's always next year, right?

ouch.

maybe it's just my eyes but if you read meem's bright white backgrounded blog and then go straight to A's jet black background blog, your eyes will totally freak out.

Don't try it.

You are, aren't you?

Powdered Donuts

While I was searching for my cell phone this morning, inside and out, Grant found himself a little treat. He pulled them off the table and had himself quite the powdered sugar feast. Little stinker. He's just so cute while being a little stinker...

(oh, and if you're curious...my phone was in Mason's lunchbox. I-i don't know. When I called it five times to find it, his whole class heard it vibrating in his lunch box. His teacher must really think i'm a nut...)

Not fair.

Why do I get this with other people's kids? And this....

And THIS! with my own. I declare.
It was perhaps the worst shoot of my life. You'd have thought mason was being tortured. And Grant, well, Grant wasn't awful except for the fact that he threw a fit everytime his brother tried to hug him. Which made mason cry because "bubba doesn't like me!!!" which was so fake. So fake. It started off cute enough. But then it was a downward spiral. I got a few good shots. But Mason somehow managed to turn an adorable candycane eating shot into him looking as though he is playing the piccolo.

I'm a photographer. I MUST send out christmas photo cards. They must look amazing because they're going to customers too.

I need children to cooperate.

Geez.

Back to editing I go.

(I must admit the crying picture of grant is pretty stinkin' cute...)

it's all about perspective...

You might think, "aw, that's cute" when you see the above.
But wait.
This is what was really going down...

Look Ma, No Training Wheels!

On Saturday, Mason and Troy worked on teaching Mason how to ride his bike without training wheels. Then, on, Tuesday, Mason just went out there and did it. I was watching from the window - he fell a few times trying to start, but then he just did it. That same day he lost his second tooth...he's just so big now!

I always knew I loved Australia.

Bekah took me on a date tonight to see the movie Australia with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman. So very good, my friends. You must go see it. I laughed. I cried. I hated. I loved(and by loved I am referring to Hugh Jackman who was a most dashing, rugged cowboy with an added perk - an australian accent). I cried some more. I cringed. I laughed. I loved.

"I sing you to me."

To know what that means, you gotta go see the movie. Oh, so good.

PS - if for some reason, unknown to mankind, you didn't like the movie, please refrain from telling me so, because I would be forced to immediately not be your friend anymore.

Aunt Bekah to the Rescue and a Christmas Tragedy.

Aunt Bekah has taken on Grant for the day so I'm covered for Wednesday. yay! Thank you all those who offered! I appreciate it oh so much!

On a completely unrelated note, we had a Christmas tragedy. Due to a faulty electric cord (that,yes, mom,has been disposed of), ALL the lights on our Christmas tree burned out. Yeah. So, I have a tree, with at least 10 strands of lights on it that don't work. So, do I:

a)leave it and have the unmerriest tree in the whole wide World!
b)Buy a pre-lit tree now before they go on post Christmas sales...
c)take off all the ornaments. Take off the perfectly placed draped ribbons. Take off every single strand of lights and redo the whole thing.
d) lay hands on the strings of light and pray that Christmas Angels will resurrect them.

I'm thinking b or d. C is totally out. Totally.

Dang electric cord. Stealing whatever Christmas spirit I had....

Any Takers?

I have a shoot in Midland on Wednesday. I kind of agreed to doing it without really meaning to. It was an odd conversation. Anyway, I have Mason covered. He can go to work with Dad, but Grant can't. Would any of you dear sweet souls be willing to watch Grant for me from about 1pm to 7:30 or so? I'll pay of course. I'm slightly desperate....Any takers?

thoughts about our life, not pictures. Are you surprised?

I am. I can't think of anything but pictures. I edit until the wee hours of the morning. But that's not what this post is about. This post is about me, my boys, and my flowing thoughts.

• I don't have the Christmas spirit yet. The tree is up. The lights are on. The music is playing but that feeling just hasn't hit me yet. I think presents would help. Yes, that is a cynical thing to say, but hey, it's true. I love buying presents for my family and I haven't yet. Also, perhaps some holiday baking? Yes, that's the cure for sure. And maybe reading a few christmas stories.
• I got a new phone. Mine was stupid. Died even when fully charged. Terrible interference. Buttons wouldn't work. So I just went out and bought me a new phone.It's needed for Sprinkle of Grace. And I look at my new phone with great love and adoration quite often.
  
• I have to cut about 10 yards of fabric into 1" x8" strips for Mason's class. with Pinking sheers that I don't have. By Monday. Yeah. So, uh, I should probably stop blogging.
  
• I got to teach a lesson when I tutored on Thursday. The teacher was using some ideas I gave her and she just kind of stopped and said, "could you take over so I could see you do this?" Uh...sure? So I did. I taught a guided writing lesson to 4th graders. I loved it. Teaching really is pretty fun, it's just all that other stuff (parents, meetings, grades, paperwork, discipline, being away from your own children for days) that just ruins it.
  
• Mason wants a trampoline for Christmas. And a trash can. He literally asked for a trash can. He saw one in target and goes, "I'm gonna ask Santa for a trash can for Christmas. Because then I won't have to walk all the way to the kitchen to throw stuff away." To this I wanted to reply, "since when do you throw anything away?". Poor deprived child asking for a trash can for Christmas.
  
• I need to run. For days and days and days. Things are getting tighter. And I just keep eating. But while I do miss running, I abhor the cold. I hate it. I HATE it. I can't stand being cold. But I gotta run. I just gotta!
  
• I really gotta go. My to do list is glaring at me with - Oh wait, Pandora. I couldn't leave without telling you how amazing Pandora.com is. Most of you know what it is, but I have re-fallen in love with it. It's always on. What would we do without music?
  
• Okay, now I'm going. The to do list is horrifically long.
  

one of those gut pictures.

it might have been the song that was playing on pandora. Or maybe it's because I know the story about how especially special these girls are to kim and David. Or maybe it's because I am delirious. But this picture made my gut react. Thanks Kim for letting me capture your family being real... : )

well, that's annoying.

aargh.
I posted that last post to the wrong blog.
that happens when you have SIX blogs.
good grief.
It's midnight.
I'll fix it later. Can I copy and paste it?
I need sleep...or more coffee....no, sleep.

(on a side note -when I look at these pictures my heart almost bursts with joy at the fact that this, making pictures like those, is what I am now getting PAID to do...bursting with joy, i tell you. Bursting with indescribable-how'd-i-get-so-lucky joy....)

For Kimmie D.....

I promise i'm editing them! I promise. But there are lots! : ) And I had lots before yours...but I haven't forgotten you! I promise. I can't wait for you to see them. I have a feeling there will be a few tears. : )

Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving was wonderful! Family started drifting in Wednesday afternoon and the last departures were late today. It was so sad to see everyone leave. Mason has been in the depths of despair without any cousins to play with for the last 8 hours.

We had such a fantastic time just hanging out and enjoying each other and of course eating! Oh, the food. So many pies! And a to-die-for carrot cake, and great dips, and yummy breads, and good coffee in the morning. We played games, we laughed, we just had the best time ever. Well, I did anyway.

So, thank you family for a great and memorable Thanksgiving. I'm so glad you could all be here...and I'm so thankful for each and every one of you! : )

How has this gone unmentioned?

How have I not blogged about the fact that I, me, Jenny the scared-to-host-a-playdate, is hosting my family's Thanksgiving? Yep! And if you know me very well, you know that my family is quite large...so...
Me
Troy
Mason
Grant
Mom
Don
Bekah
Gina
Cindy
Amber
Hayden
Jerry
Tammie
Jess
Mrs. Fisher
Mrs. Fisher's friend
Christy
Dave
Morgan
Mckenzie
Amy
Jon
Bailey
Brock
Micah
Tania
Elizabeth
Rebecca
Blaine
Kara(yay!)
Josh

will all be sitting down for dinner here on Thursday. No, I haven't a clue where or on what they'll be sitting. But it's going to be so very much fun!

I have been a wee bit stressed about the whole thing I must admit. It doesn't help that I have shoots like crazy, but now that the food's all been bought, the house is somewhat cleaner and i'm getting past the fact that people will blame me if it's the worst Thanksgiving ever, I am very very very excited to see my huge fun crazy family! I just cannot wait!

They start filtering in on Tuesday with Gema and Pop pop and I told 'em I'm kicking them out on Saturday! : )

When I was a little girl, someone asked me what my favorite holiday was and I said "thanksgiving because my whole family is together." The adult asking the question didn't believe me, but it's true! I mean think about it - great food, the best people, parades, football, no pressure to find the perfect gift, pies, pies and more pies...It is the best!

(Boy! I hope i don't ruin it!)

a most terrifying experience

I opened up the folder from a recent shoot. I thought I had clicked on the first picture. I wanted to delete that one image. I pressed delete. Within seconds, every image in the folder was gone. vanished. up in smoke. The entire folder was still highlighted somehow.

Panic, the kind where you just start yelling out "oh GOD!" and that cold feeling surges through your body, hit me full force.

All I have to say is thank you Jesus for making the man who invented the recycle bin. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I don't know if my heart rate will ever recover...

My Little Indian

Mason had his Thanksgiving program at school today. The class was divided up into indians, pilgrims, and turkeys. It was cute, oh, all kinds of cute. They sang/recited quite the assortment of thanksgiving themed rhymes and chants. I was so very proud of my lil indian boy!

Sunday Mornings.

I believe the devil is especially devilish on Sunday mornings. Here is the basis for my belief regarding that statement:

Saturday, 11:42pm: With a head pounding from maybe the worst headache of my life I go to bed, believing and praying it will be gone when I wake up.

Sunday, 6:47am: Grant is crying. I stand up and nearly fall over because the pain on the left side of my head hurts so bad. I make a bottle, marvel at how messy my kitchen is, and pray that Grant will go back to sleep.

7:30am: Grant is awake again and this time for good. His morning present to me is a poopy diaper that has escaped the confines of his diaper and made a pleasant morning mess.

7:35am: My head still pounding, all I hear is, "I'm hungry mom. I said I'm hungry. Mom. M-O-M, mom I'm hungry." My response to these demands does not make me the proverbs woman. For sure.

8:00am - Despite a massive dose of tylenol and a muscle relaxer miracle drug, my headache persists. grant is unusually fussy. Falling on the ground sobbing for no apparent reason. Finally, I lay curled up in a ball on the floor while the boys watch Curious George and Grant uses me as a jungle gym.

8:30am: Now I'm sick to my stomach. probably from the medicine on an empty stomach. I try to force down some toast, and I drink my coffee as if it's nectar from the very trees of Eden. My head still hurts, grant still cries and now Mason is complaining about being "soooo bored!"

9am - 10am: I really don't know what happened during this time frame. I remember laying on the couch while grant and mason "shared" (code for fought) over the magnadoodle. Somewhere in there they also dragged out about four blankets from their rooms only to fight over them. Grant would break into "im being picked on" sobs. Mason would claim, "i didn't do anything."

10am: I plop grant in the bath tub, head pounding as I lean over to try to wash his hair without getting water in his ears. He fights it. he wiggles. he cries. I'm pretty certain he's not that clean as a result of that bath. While he's bathing I look at myself in the mirror. It's not good. I wash my face, almost crying from the pain of the blood rushing to my head as I bent over the sink.

10:15: I fish Grant out of the tub. He sobs...again. I put him in a garage sale sweater, and a diaper. Where are his jeans?

10:20 - I call Mason in from raking leaves. He's got a cut on his hand, but doesn't seem too bothered. UNTIL he realizes it will get wet in the tub. Tears begin.

10:25 - mason, still crying will not submerse his hand in the water. my head throbbing at every movement, I begin to wash his hair. Soap gets in his eyes. The tears combine with frantic arm flailing and foot stomping. With about as much sympathy as i could muster, I toss him a dry towell after I dump the last cup of rinse water on his head.

10:35 - Grant is still pantless, and crying sporadically. I am still wearing my blue tee shirt, purple and pink plaid knee high socks, and a robe.My hair is unbrushed, but my face is washed. mason is now shivering like he's in the dang arctic circle and is getting dressed at a turtles pace.

10:40 - the muscle relaxer, while it hasn't helped the headache has kind of dulled me to the rest of the world. I'm unaware of the need to rush because church starts in 20 minutes. Mason is finally dressed, but still whining about his hand.

10:45 - My make up is on. That's the best way to describe it - on.

10:47 - Before applying a band-aid to mason's cut, I discover that it's a splinter. A big, long deep splinter. Troy is summoned.

10:50 -Screams of pain and anguish are heard from the bathroom as the splinter removal process begins.

10:53 - I finally have clothes on. But I can't find my left black heel.

10:54 - I make my way to the sounds of torture coming from the bathroom. Troy has tweezers, nail clippers, and safety pin. Mason acts as if he's about to undergo amputation.

10:55 : In an attempt to distract mason from the Splinter extraction, I try to get him to count to 100...He does so, accenting certain numbers with screams of Terror at what's happening to his hand. Troy, Mason, and I are all on the bathroom floor. Grant shows up. Terrified by the apparent pain we are causing his brother, he immediately breaks into heart-wrenching sobs and collapses in a dramatic heap on the floor.

11:05 - Operation Splinter Removal continues. Spelling words are being called out, questions about JAM are asked, words are put into Grant's mouth - "it's okay bubba! I love you bubba. Don't cry bubba" in an attempt to calm Mason. Mason still shakes with sobs. Grant is still in the midst of a heartbroken fit in my lap.

11:10: After having to quite literally cut the splinter out of Mason's hand, we leave the bathroom.

11:12 - I have one black shoe. Mason has one brown shoe. Grant has no pants. Church started 12 minutes ago.

11:20 - We're in the car. Grant is asleep immediately but wearing Jeans. Mason's hand has been bandaged and he's wearing tennies with lime green accents with brown pants and a nice sweater. I am wearing the same flats I wear every day and I'm thankful I have gum in my purse since I don't recall brushing my teeth.

11:25 - We made it to church.

I'm telling you -unusually devilish on Sunday mornings.

Christmas Music and a Cozy Fire...

Sigh...Does it get any better? I just don't think so...

Milk and Cookies

Grant had his first oreo today. So I photographed the experience. I mean it's an oreo. That's a first everyone has to remember forever!

"I better shove this whole thing in there before brother steals it..."

Gotta have milk!

And the sugar hits the blood stream... : )

a gut feeling.

I'm up way too late editing way too many pictures way too many ways. I'm not super thrilled with the pictures I'm editing. I don't know. They're just kind of...blah. But then I opened one. And it just stirs something in my gut. The way the mom smiled at me while her son looked at her and the older son is reacting to something the dad just said.

It's a moment.

And it's that gut feeling, when I see a moment in the image, that makes me want to get better. Not crawl under a rock and hide. Those glimpses of what images should be... I can do this. I can do this. I am doing this.

Thank you, Jesus, for moments.

Well, I know you do care...

but maybe not so much about the silly books! : ) That last post title, if read in a certain voice could be seen as really rude, but i wanted it to sound like was this:

I know(accented with a head nod) you don't reeeeeeallllllly (really said in a exaggerated, like it's not the most important thing in your world) care...(shrug) BUT! (Silly jenny grin)

It was not intended to sound like this:

I know you don't really care a lick about me! whatever! ugh.

So, I hope that clarifies that.

I would just remove the post but you've all already seen it and me removing would just seem even more rude somehow.
Geez.
I think too much.

And for the record, the cord in the picture from the rude post below does indeed annoy me to no end. It's being remedied somehow...

I know you don't really care...

but I got one of the books today!!!
I practically skipped back inside my house after I pulled it from the mailbox. Okay, fine. I did skip a little.

It's so cool! It has some artsy how-to stuff but then it has great photo display ideas. One of which I stole and adapted for my office. See!
See the frame? That's chicken wire stapled to the back of it. The assorted pictures are attached with teeny tiny binder clips. i'm loving it! : )

squeaky clean

Really. He is just the cutest thing!
And he's walking now. Oh, and he just thinks he's mr. big stuff.

: )

Last night I ordered the book i wanted, in addition to another one that was equally appealing, from Amazon, for about 8 bucks less than the one at Hastings.

So now I just have to wait ages before I get them...but I am getting them!

I can't wait!

books.

I am addicted to Hastings.

One, they have coffee.
Two, they have books.
Three, they have comfy chairs that don't come with babbling children attached.

I read books of quotes, books on photography, books about sewing, books for runners. I sigh when I see coloring books that remind me of my childhood. I almost cry when I smell the newness of a crisp new book. I wish I had money to buy mason a math workbook and the animal encyclopedia stickerbook and the book on doodling for boys. I leave a trail of books behind me as I decide that I don't need to buy that book. Tonight, I again came home empty handed. I peeled a book out of my hands at the register and walked resolutely out the door. With a deep sigh.

And now, after being reinvigorated by images of photographic perfection, memories of my creativity-allowing childhood, and a mocha masterpiece coursing through my veins, I will edit some pictures.

But i really wish I had that book....sigh....

Do you know why I'm really really sad?

That was what mason asked me tonight while choking back tears.
"Why, Baby?" I asked, pushing aside the initial annoyance of him getting out of bed yet again.
"Because I just really like my pillow and I can't find it."

He has this nasty, i mean, nasty, pillowcase-less pillow that is holey and ratty and just terrible. It's not even a real pillow - it's an airplane pillow we stole like three years ago. But he loves the thing. We couldn't find it before bedtime, but I just brushed it off and gave him a replacement. That's when the tear-filled conversation took place. He has since found his precious pillow and will be asleep soon...i hope.

Those moments are good to have. The moments that remind me he's not quite grown up, that he's not completely a big boy yet. There are far too many big boy moments these days...

He lost his first tooth. I picked him up from school and it was wiggling. By bedtime, it was out. The tooth fairy, who made a very last minute pick-up/delivery, brought him 75 cents so he could get an icecream at school.

He can add. I'm not talking 2+2. No. He can add like 14 + 7 in his head. No fingers. No manipulatives. He just counts to the biggest number, then starts whispering as he adds to it. He rarely miscalculates. He can even add 2 digit numbers like 14+19. In his head. It is truly baffling.

He can write sentences like, "dad wuz gowe on a fil chrip." Which translates to "Dad was going on a field trip."

He has the negative side of big boy moments too - a little attitude. Picking on his brother. Not obeying.

But then, he loses his pillow and suddenly he's that little 18 month old in his crib crying for "po!"

Where, where, does the time go...

We saw another side of Grant today.

Grant's "surgery" went very well.

We went in at about 7:15, got him dressed in his little blue gown that looked so cute, and then we waited...and waited...and waited...and waited. Grant couldn't have anything to eat or drink so he was a little less than Mr. Happy, but still good. He even fell asleep in my arms for 45 minutes or so. Finally, about 9:30ish, they explained the procedure, the anesthesia, and, that when he woke up, he would be really angry. In the words of the nurse, he would be similar to the Tazmanian Devil. Then they carried my little baby away. I handled that surprisingly well. Knowing the surgery took about 6 minutes eased the pain (but did give me a moment to pause on the exact amount his doctor would be making per minute...).

Before we knew it, he was safely passed out in our arms again. And he looked so peaceful and dreamy.

Then he started to wake up.

Turns out Tazmanian Devil is an appropriate term. Arms flailing, legs flopping, red-faced screams. Oh, he was MAD! Nothing helped - pappys, daddy's arms, momma's pacing, nothing. Just screaming. But it wasn't scary or anything. I could tell he was just confused and upset by what had happened to him. He wasn't hurting or anything.

After 15 minutes or so we were told we could leave.
He cried leaving.
in the car.
at home.
being rocked.
nothing helped.
Until I convinced him to drink a bottle of warm milk.
In mere minutes, Grant returned and the Tazmanian Devil faded.
Thank Goodness!

The rest of the day has been uneventful. Lots of dirty diapers, not a fan of the three times a day drops, and kind of cranky, but pretty good overall. Now, if I can just figure out how on earth I'm going to keep water out of his ears for the next 6-9 months...

a bad case of the Mondays.

I cried like four times yesterday. It was like a rainbow of emotions kind of day, but most of the colors were over in the gray spectrum.

Why the tears? Well,some were appropriate. Some were me just being unusually emotional.

The first tears came when at about 8:05am, I was told the cost of Grant's surgery. No small thing. I thought it was going to be bad, but not...that bad.

Then i had a little money melt down. Somehow all my billpay accounts are missing. So the act of paying bills was just as challenging as the chore of determining how.

THEN, I cried because Grant is so cute and he has to have surgery! I had to sign all these "this may cause paralysis...and even death." papers. I know it's only tubes, but still...he's my baby.

Then the icing on the cake - my computer totally freaked out on me. I was on it, installing some fonts, when grant unplugged the cord from the wall. I have a desktop so the computer instantly died. To make a long story shot, when it restarted, the desktop fonts were all in this boxy gibberish font and everything was just weird. I restarted again. The fonts got weirder. Restarted again in safe mode. Scary SCARY stuff. Then I called my computer genius brother. We tried a few things with the end result being a computer that wouldn't even start up. I hung up the phone with him and called my mom in tears. Like sobbing ridiculous - i-can't-handle -not-having-my-computer tears. She calmed me down. Then Micah called back, we restarted the computer and somehow, by some true miracle of GOD alone, the computer repaired itself back to normalcy. So I cried tears of joy.

Then I cried over the sweet pictures of my boys. And Imagined them getting bigger.

Geez.
It's 6:32 am now. I haven't cried yet. That's good, right?

Just one more...well, two...for now.

This one is a little pose-ish but still cute...look at their hands.

I love this one. It's just so them! Grant is ALWAYS pointing. I haven't at clue at what. And Mason speaks with his eyes. And they're just...brothers. Sweet brothers.

a rare thing.

A cute picture of my own children.

I couldn't decide which I liked better so you got both!

Mason the entomologist.

Here's my son, the bug catcher. He wanted this costume bad. We wandered around wal-mart and target searching for ideas. This was the only idea he liked. Well, he did like the idea of him being an apple and Grant being a worm, but there was a shortage of apple/worm costumes and I was short on time...and know-how.
So bug catcher it was. : )

a wee bit stressed.

um.
so.
yeah.

Money is getting a wee bit tight.
Oh, we're fine. RIGHT now.
BUT.
If anything happens in any of the tomorrows that stretch out before me, we might be in a bit of a pickle. Or up a creek without a paddle...or a boat. Or unable to count any eggs in a basket we have on loan.

I'm a wee bit stressed. It's one of those things I've tried to just kind of let my mind glaze over in fragmented thoughts...oh, this will happen.... If we can just...then we'll...and it'll be okay...and really we're gonna start...

but the glaze is getting a bit watered down over here and I'm starting to see things a bit too clearly.

I'm trying not to worry about it - I've seen God's work in our finances before. He can write a pretty hefty paycheck just any ol' time. And he has. I have no doubt that he'll take care of us.

BUT.

we have to do our part, right?
(insert parable of the talents analogy)
We have to spend better.
Save more.
Waste less.
and, simply, Make more.
God can totally pay all our bills and then some, but I don't think he just hands it over without us doing our fair share.

So, Sprinkle is going to have to go crazy. I'm cranking it up a notch...i don't really know how yet, but, oh, it's crankin'!
I think I'm going to actually look into the teaching-writing-to-homeschoolers idea. I get little butterflies of excitement about that idea.
I might try to sell some artsy photographs somehow...how, i don't know. But I think I'd love trying. I REALLY get butterflies over this idea.
And I have about, oh, a dozen or so, other ideas bouncing around in this flighty brain of mine.

It'll be okay.
I just like to know how, you know?
But we'll be fine.

i'm just a wee bit stressed. Today.

But tomorrow...Tomorrow is a whole new day...

I know how some of you feel about this.

I know you may not approve.
You think it's distasteful.
A few of you may have done it yourself a time or two. You'll be on my side.
but this will definitely shock a few of you.
But i need to let you know...

I got a tattoo.

Yep.

I now have two jack-o-lanterns and two bats on my left bicep.

Courtesy of Mason. He's a great tattoo artist.
Oh, and I went ahead and splurged on a black cat for my right calf.

I'm so cool now. Try not to be envious. : )

(I had to have at least a few of you fooled for a second, right?)

help.

I need help.
Please suggest songs that would be appropriate for family slideshows.

I can find dozens upon dozens of songs for engagements.
but none for families.

Apparently singing about the idea of loving someone forever is better than a song about what that actually means. : )

So please help.
I can't send another slideshow with better together or these are the moments. I'll vomit.

(and if i browse around on itunes or amazon music anymore my family will have to sell the house. Going to those sites without a song in mind is like going to the grocery store without a list. You get all sorts of great junk...that you totally don't need. )

I feel the need to update...

But I have nothing to say.

still.

I thought titling a post would help. Nope.

Um...Mason's a bugcatcher for Halloween. His choosing.
Grant's a child who doesn't like halloween costumes.

I need to edit three photo shoots. eek.

uh...

I ran 5.38 miles yesterday in 45 minutes.

grant is taking steps!

I need a new sitter for tuesdays and thursdays...any takers? 20 bucks a day...?

I bought the most perfect pair of heel jeans today. I mean perfect. Love them. LOVE them. Did not need a new pair of jeans, but i mean really. They're jeans. I'll wear 'em. I think I'm going to some store tonight just to wear them.

What can I do with that piano picture?

I cried the other night in hastings reading a book about norman rockwell. Silly me. It had his illustrations paired with photographs similar to his work. I'm just hopelessly american.

I need curtains for my office.

I think Yahoo is single-handedly fueling the stock market crash with their end-of-the-world headlines paired with images of traders looking like they just saw the face of death.

I miss teaching writing. I don't miss teaching. I miss teaching WRITING. Do you think Homeschoolers would pay me to teach a creative writing class...probably not.

I think I'm going to start selling artsy photographs. It can't hurt, right?

(see i told you the yahoo headlines are getting to people. I'm searching high and low for ways to make it through the tough times...)

I made my husband's day today by answering the question, "How is my fantasy football team doing?" with the words, "Well, drew brees is having a good day so probably pretty good." I think he fell in love with me all over again. (To be honest though, that response was a TOTAL shot in the dark. one, I didn't know for sure that drew was his qb, and two, I certainly had no clue how he was actually playing.)

And look at that. Surprise surprise! I found something to say. : )

Because I need a break from editing people...

And because I love this quote... and ronald reagan...and this dusty piano that sits outside every day...

Happiness.

This is grant at his happiest - he's got food, his "pappy" and a sippy cup with a straw. Following this meal, he got to do two of his favorite things - take a bath and read stories with mommy.
And, for the record, he loves to hold the fork, stab it at his food, but doesn't quite get the food on the fork or to his mouth.

I love Madison.

Mason asked me how to spell "I Love Madison" about two weeks ago. After a brief discussion on the definition of love and coming to the conclusion that he loved her like a friend, I conceded and spelled the sentence. Since that time, "Madison" has been scrawled on our sidewalk, on little itty bitty price tag stickers, on notecards, notepads, homework...just about any surface. Sometimes it's "like". Sometimes it's love. Sometimes it's just Madison.

Yesterday, when I picked him up from school, we were walking by another class when he said, "bye Madison." I said, "which girl is Madison?" He pointed and she waved. She was pretty stinkin' cute so I said, "wow. She is a cutie." Mason, without missing a beat, looked at her, nodded and said, "I told ya."

***
His favorite game to play right now is "what does d-e-l-l spell? What does o-c-t-o-b-e-r spell? what does.... spell? He just sees a word, says the letters and then asks what it spells? Now, this is great and I'm so excited that he loves learning and can identify not only every letter, but where words begin and end, but have you ever tried concentrating on even the most simple of tasks while "reading" words being spelled to you? It's exhausting.

***

He can recognize numbers now - big ones like 87 and 103. He can count to who knows what. He can sound out almost anything that is spelled like it sounds. i.e. swift. but not swat. He adores his teacher. He is just so big. His face is grown up. His little hands are big boy hands. The way he understands sarcasm and jokes. He's just so big. And I just love him so...