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?)