Let's Do 52 ~ Week 52 {It's Not The End}

I don't remember when I stopped believing in Santa Claus.  It wasn't a big moment for me.  It wasn't like I saw my mother filling stocking for my brothers and me and all of my reality exploded or anything.  It was just that one year I did and the next year I didn't. 

As a teenager, it didn't really matter all that much.  In my 20's, it didn't really matter all that much.  It didn't start to matter until my son started approaching Christmas with a twinkle in eye and a dream that Santa would pay him a visit.  The magic that sparkled around him was contagious.  I wanted a piece of it.

My son is 10 years old now and I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  A lot of his friends at school don't believe anymore.  I'm certain that someday soon he won't either.  It really felt like last year was going to be it, but no.  The magic is still there for him.

My husband and I have done everything we can to keep that going. 

We're not concerned about the dishonesty of it. 

We're not worried about others making fun or teasing him for keeping faith in baby stuff.  They don't. 

We're worried about that moment when the illusion goes away and the reality of adulthood sets in.  He's only 10.  He has a lifetime of reality waiting for him.  He needs more time to dream and wish and wonder.

He wrote a letter to Santa this year saying that his big Christmas wish was to see a real reindeer from the North Pole.  I saw an ad in the paper that a nursery by our house brought in reindeer for the season.  My kids and I decided to go see them.  We had it scheduled several times throughout the month, but school meetings, and dinner plans, and housework and homework always seemed to take precedence.

We finally made it down there yesterday, Little Christmas Eve.  The nursery had a sleigh set up next to the reindeer.  My son immediately jumped into it, grabbed the reins and started HO-HO-HO-ing as he shook the bells.

I took his picture to help me remember the moment and sent it skyward with my Christmas wish. 

I hope he's happy.

I hope he gets everything he needs, not just everything he wants.

I hope he's always excited.

I hope his wishes big.

I hope his world is filled with wonder and beauty and majesty and amazement.

I hope the magic stays with him always the way it has this year.

I hope it's not the end.

Let's Do 52 ~ Week 50 {The Eyes Have It}

I have two go-to girlies when it comes to taking pics.  This is one of them. 

She was rushing out the door and I said,

"Okay, stop.  Right there.  Now, right here."

And she said,

"What am I doing?"

And I said,

"The eyes have it."

And she said

 
and they do....just like always.

Darn That Elf!

I'm very conflicted today.

And not in that funny, Facebook-y,  

It's Christmas time so I want to eat fudge, but fudge makes my jeans split down the side (true story...you weren't in my kitchen last night, but trust me), but it's Christmas so I want to eat fudge kind of way.

I'm more conflicted in the  

47 minutes after I finished wrapping presents and putting them under the tree, a scampy elf seized one, tore open the paper, and then hid it under Daddy's chair kind of way.

Followed closely by the

Are you !@#$ kidding me!? way,

The

How did you even know which one was for you since none of the presents even have tags on them yet? way.

And the

No! You have to listen!  That other elf told me to do it!  They're the one!  It's not my fault!  It's not my fault! way.

So now, I'm left vacillating between three options:

1.  Return the offending, opened gift from whence it came and not let the scamp have it on Christmas.

2.  Offer said elf the opportunity to prove themselves worthy of Santa's trust and put the gift back under the tree Christmas morning.

3.  Eat more fudge and wonder when I last used the words vacillating and whence....because I can't believe it was recently.  Although, I've always felt I lived a past life in Victorian England.

Any help or advice you can offer would be greatly appreciated in that

You've always been my favorite and I'll love you until the end of time and buy you anything you want and always make your favorite foods and have your back and stand by your side and be your best friend for ever and ever kind of way.

A Good Old-Fashioned Family Album

We usually spend Thanksgiving on the pool deck in Arizona, but this year we kept it a little closer to home.  It went something like this....

 

And it was good.....

Let's Do 52 ~ Week 47 {Thankful}

I know you think you know what I'm thankful for in this picture.

Pie, right?

No.  That would be shallow, and I like to think of myself as more of a wading pool than a puddle.

This picture illustrates my gratitude for a multitude of things, actually.

1.  The relationship they have.  She is 12 years older and continues to remain steadfastly a part of their lives.  They adore her and she loves them right back.  So much so that she's willing to share the blowing out of her birthday candles with them.  Family, man.  It's a bond that cannot be broken.

2.  The fact that I was able to get this shot using the skills that I have to manipulate my settings to get a clear image focusing on exactly what I wanted and did not have to crop off any of it. 

3.  That no one in this picture is making one of those ridiculous, puffy cheeked, candle blowing faces....although, TBH, those are actually kind of cute.  And P.S......I hate the expression TBH.  I don't know why I even said that.  Moving on....

4.  That I was able to use my 2.8 lens for it.  I will be thankful for my 2.8 lens until the end of time.  I'm just so happy to have it back again.  I know I've said that before, but 14 months is really a long time to be down my favorite lens after I dropped....after it fell out of my bag as I walked across the parking lot....Okay, moving on from that, too.

5.  Pie.

Fine.  I'm a puddle.  You know me too well...it's why I love you.

Let's Do 52 ~ Week 46 {Letter}

 I spy two bows, a family, a vase,
A kitty, a six, and a little girl's face,
A chocolate candy cane, a pumpkin, a key,
4 bottles of nail polish and a sparkly letter C.

It's an I Spy thing....just go with it....

Backstage At Competition

It's been  24 years since I've been to any kind of competition.

The pom poms are smaller.

The hair is flouncier.

The moves are scarier.

But the work and prep and intensity and fun and camaraderie are the same.

 

 

Thank you, thank you, thank you for inviting me backstage to capture these moments.

Double L loves you!!!

Three Stories, One Photo, And A Ridiculous Writing Utensil

Score One For The Nice Girls

The other night I stayed with my daughter at cheer practice.  I don't usually do that because she finds it slightly distracting if I'm there.

She waves at me.

She squinty smiles at me.

She blows the hair out of her face while glaring and giving me that tight lipped, totally pissed off look because I didn't put enough spray in her hair like she asked me to and now its falling and she can't see.

Then, because she's blowing the hair out of her face and being, like, soooooo annoyed, she forgets what she supposed to be doing and everything falls flat.  Being her mother, I felt the uncontrollable need to point that out to her, the same way that my mother did when she motioned, from the audience, during my 5th grade band concert, that I needed to sit with my knees together.

We're mothers.  It's genetically predetermined that we lick our fingers to wipe smoodge off your faces, correct your vulgar posture and criticize your obscene cheer arms whenever possible.  Which is what I was explaining to her when she came over for water.

"You need to be excited and sharp and pop it."

"I'm trying, but that girl is heavy and I'm afraid I won't be able to lift her."

"I don't care.  You need to be excited and sharp and pop it."

 And the very nice girl sitting next to me, sipping quietly on her water because her mother was not there to criticize her during the water break said,

"It's really hard to be the base, isn't it?  I know.  I had to do that last year.  You're doing great!"

Then she high-fived my daughter and walked away, flouncing her ponytail in that subtle, cheer-y way that said

Sorry you have such a bitchy mom.  

I decided not to go to practice the next night.

The Great Playroom Clean Out of 2K12

I've been cleaning out our playroom because it's a horrible, vile, disgusting mess and it stresses me out.  Plus, the holidays are coming and we'll be getting more toys, so we'll need to have a place to put them.

I had gathered a few things to donate to the Grandma stash for when my niece comes to visit at Christmas.  She's two and speaks three languages.  Whatever.

One of the things I decided to give her were there little magnet dolls.  They're kind of like paper dolls, but they're magnets.  And they have 4,795 different outfits.  Shirts, shorts, skirts, pajamas, shoes, purses, dresses.  10,573 pieces that have yet to ever be played with.  So, I put them all in a Ziploc bag and gave them to Grandma.

After she drove away, I returned to the playroom, now void of these wretched magnet dolls, and found one, teeny, little magnet skirt on the floor.

ME:  Did you open that bag?  
GIRLIE:  Oh!  Yes.  I can put that back in.
ME:  I just gave all that to Grandma.
GIRLIE:  What!?  I got that for my birthday!
ME:  Well, I'm sorry, but you never played with it.
GIRLIE:  That's because I didn't know where all the pieces were.
ME:  They were all right there in that yellow box on the shelf.
GIRLIE:  Well, how am I supposed to see that?!

Followed by...

ME:  Okay, pick out what you want to keep from this box.  The rest is going away.
THE KID:  Ummmm...This....This.....This.....Here.  This goes in the dinosaur box.
ME:  Actually, the dinosaurs are in the donate box, so it can go there.
THE KID:  Oh, okay.....Wait.  What!?

Tell me I'm not alone in this.....

The Greatest Question I've Heard All Week

Dad, can I have $8 for a Smencil?

The Greatest Explanation I've Heard All Week

What's a Smencil?

It's a pencil that smells.  And it's like a pencil, but you can smell it.  And they sell them at school...

They have Smens, too.  Those are like...

STOP!  I'm telling him.  Smens are like pencils...

No, they're pens and they smell and you can write with them....

UGH!  I hate when you do that!  Smens are pens but they smell like stuff and you write with them and they sell them at school.  With the Smencils.  Can I have money to buy them?



I decided not to tell my beloved and his wallet that I just threw out three Smencils during the Great Playroom Clean Out that they bought last year and got sick of using because they were so strong and made everything in their backpack, their room and their closet smell like cinnamon sticks and pine trees and mint chocolate chips and some sugar plum thing that was just wretched.

And because he's a big marshmallow whose all melty when his curly girls crawl up in his lap and ask for stuff first thing in the morning before they've even said hello, he gave them the money.

P.S.  It was only $1 for a Smencil and $2 for a Smen.

Because an $8 Smencil would just be stupid.

Let's Do 52 ~ Week 45 {Look Down}

Since we have this massive, gargantuan pile of leaves in our yard, I thought I'd take advantage of it and use them as the backdrop for my Look Down picture this week.

Evidently, the gardener is on vacation.  For the past three months.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Nothing.  I'm just saying we have a lot of leaves on our lawn.

"I work really hard during the week, you know."

I know.  And that chair is not going to hold itself down all weekend, is it?

"Stop it."

I'm just saying that if we had a nickel for every leaf on our lawn....

"I said stop."

I'm just saying that the rake is in the shed and if we had one vacation day for every leaf on our lawn...

"I'm leaving."

Okay, wait.  Are you leaving or are you leafing?  Because I think there might be a difference.

"Whatever."

Happy Leafing!

Let's Do 52 ~ Week 44 {Red...or White...or Blue}

I had a whole flag, stars, bokeh thing I was going to do this week because I just got my big 2.8 lens back from the camera hospital and I was super excited to start using it again...

...after 14 months.....I know, right?....

but, then kids and grandkids and school parties and holidays and canned tomatoes and prize pumpkins and football and cheer and Dancing with the Stars and chair upholstery and you know....

Then there was a storm and it kind of put things in perspective and I decided not to worry about getting the shot the way I wanted it.  Instead, I decided that I would be grateful that these lovely red trees were standing in my neighborhood and not hanging off my house.

So, this afternoon I ran up to the park to quickly snap a few of the red leaves that I've been meaning to stop and photograph.

And when I say "ran", I mean got in my car and drove two blocks up.

In conclusion, this image represents both my Red contribution for the week, as well as the extent of my fall leaf photography this season.

Answers To Our Most Commonly Asked Halloween Questions

After every Halloween I usually have about 476 conversations with various friends, family, neighbors, grocery store clerks, bank tellers, meter maids, teachers, and gas station attendants about how our festivities went. 

To save them all from exasperated eye rolling and fake smiles that I have to give in order to get through these 5,760 conversations, I decided to answer all of the questions as once:

1.  Yes, lots.

2.  About 20.

3.  A rock star and a football player.

4.  Almost an hour and a half.

5.  I did.

6.  No.

7.  Wine.

8.  Yes.

9.  More than I would have thought, but they were all pretty well behaved.

10.  A bit, yeah.  I sent it work for the guys.


I hope you all had a great time!

And I love ya'....

How Many Pictures Of A Ref's Butt Can You Take?

I've photographed a lot of football games.  And when I say "a lot" I mean close to 46.

As a football momtographer, never, ever, ever, ever, ever have I ever seen a referee so blatantly in the shot as this guy was yesterday.

I know that the refs have to be on the field.  They're there to do a job, and they know you're trying to do one too.  They're usually nice about the pics you're trying to get.

It's always fun when they say cutesy stuff like "Be sure to get my good side."

Or "Do I have to smile for this?"

Or "These stripes don't make me look fat, do they?"

Or, "Pardon my butt."

So clever.

But, this guy? Right in the middle of the damn shot every time.  I mean every.  time.  No matter where I went or what angle I tried to shoot from.

Even when the captains were shaking hands.

Even when it was my son that I couldn't see shaking hands as a captain.

Usually the refs get the play set up and then move to the sideline so the players can run without crashing into them.  This guy was set up almost in line with the players.  I've only seen that done with little, little guys who are like teeny, tiny balls of football fluff that couldn't run over a marshmallow much less a big, burly ref.

This is what it can look like when the refs know where they're supposed to be and get the hell out of the way.

Although, as I said, I do realize that they're there to do a job, and it's far more important than mine,

but, come on....

Maybe I'm just in a bad mood.  I've been looking at a ref's butt all morning.....