I didn't even see it coming.

It just hit me--WHAM!--just like that with no head's up. No warning.

I knew this day would get here eventually, but I didn't expect it to be here this fast. I mean, shouldn't they send you some sort of paper warning you that it's coming? Even the government sends you tax forms.

Today, I officially became the mom of a teenager. Pick me up of the floor.

Today, my baby turned 13.

Just yesterday she had grown out of kids' shoes and into the women's section. And I could've sworn it was only last month that she was a preschooler drawing me pictures of things I couldn't recognize....or was the cute little thing with fat rolls that would fall asleep on my chest...or was the 3-year-old whose dimples would throw a fit for princess snacks at the grocery store.

And now....

Now she is this young, independent woman. She no longer needs me to help her up on a step-stool to get her Cheerios in the morning or put her hair up into a ponytail. She does it all by herself. And somewhere along the line, she taught herself how to get up on her own in the mornings -- I no longer sneak into her room and rub her face until she starts to giggle. She's developed all of these amazing relationships with her peers and her own personality at the same time.

She's outgoing and yet can be reserved. She can be timid and out of control. She's incredibly kind-hearted and has such a soft soul. She lights up a room just by walking into it. And her smile could melt concrete like some form of Superhero kryptonite.

There is no way God could have given me a better kid in her. She is laid back and eager to please. She sets an incredible example for her younger brothers and sister (most of the time). =) She helps out when it's not expected and tries her absolute hardest when it IS expected.

I tell Chris all the time about my excitement watching our kids grow up. What will they become in their adult lives? What profession will they get into? What dreams will they follow?

I'm sure I'll blink my eyes and I'll be sitting at their college graduation ceremony. Time seems to go that fast some days. Against my will and all.

Happy birthday sweet girl.

Reck, Table for 6

When I was scouring through the images of the past year for my Year In Review post, I realized that I had never shared the pictures of our First Ever Photo Session As A Family.

Major fail as a mom. And a bigger fail as a photographer.

The question I CONTINUOUSLY get about my job/home life is "Who photographs the photographer's family?" And it's a good question really. I mean, most of the time a 10 second timer and a mad dash gets me something that will suffice, but where do you turn when you want to be serious about it?! Who do you trust with something like that?

Being a photographer myself, there are a select few fellow photographers that I look to for inspiration. They keep me creative and help me develop my own style. I found Katie and Brandon of Bungalow Photography a few years ago . I can't remember how I stumbled upon them, but after one quick read of their blog, I was hooked. I loved their style. I loved everything about their work. I loved Katie's curly hair and how simply sweet they were.

I knew when Chris and I got engaged that I wanted Katie and Brandon to photograph the day. And then, as that turned into a much less Big To-Do into a more intimate just-the-six-of-us thing, I decided to skimp on the wedding day pictures (I know!! I just said "skimp on pictures"!) and go all-out for our first family session. So, one day in June I relinquished my photographic control-freakiness, sat back and just enjoyed being a client.

I wasn't sure how it would work out -- me letting go and just letting be. I mean, I'm used to the Rule of Thirds, composition, and flow. How am I going to survive a couple hours without seeing the LCD screen of my little clan? Will I be able to function without zooming in to see if our eyes are in focus?

We met Katie and Brandon at this funky, retro diner in Fountain Square in Indianapolis. Where my messiest eater decided to get barbecue ribs for dinner. What. Was. I. Thinking. For the life of me, I cannot figure out how we got out of that place unscathed (and unsauced), but we did. And from there, we strolled around this awesome neighborhood. It was the quaintest little place I've ever been. The buildings were full of character with their worn walls and peeling paint, old metal stairs and perfect doorways. We tucked into alleys, lined up along buildings, and sat in a row on the curb. Perfect. I didn't want formal poses and we weren't all in matchy-matchy outfits. I wanted our personalities to shine thru.

And they did. Just as I imagined.

As a mom to these kids, and a wife to their dad, it's easy for me to see what it is about each one of them that I adore. I love Taylor's giddiness. I love Brenden's soft-spoken ways. I love Harley's goofiness. And I love how Bryce is happy for no apparent reason. I love how Chris laughs at Family Guy when he's the only one in the room. I love that we just "get" each other. I love our inside jokes. I love us just being.

When I look at these pictures, I can see that. To feel that love between each other is one thing, but to see it -- and have others see it -- is incredible. I sent Katie a text when I received my disc of images and told her "I always knew what it felt like to love my family, but now I know what it looks like." My heart implodes with the love that this family shares. No, it's not easy all of the time, but it is easy most of the time. We have our battles, our trials and our bad days. But for the other 97% of our time together, what you see here -- the goofiness, the love, the contentment, the happiness -- is truly what you get when you're around us.



A "thank you" doesn't seem adequate enough for someone that has given me what Katie and Brandon has in these pictures. I couldn't name a price for what they bring to me, or what they mean. I can tell you that they'll be taking our pictures every year from here on out...and probably my children's wedding pictures. And this year, we'll have a picture with them IN IT...well, because they're just that important.

Thank you, Katie and Brandon.

2010 Year in Review

When I'm older and think back to 2010, I'm pretty sure it'll be one of the Top Five years of my life. I don't think it has so much to do with the events that happened even though some great things happened in 2010. And I don't think it's about the places we went -- but we did get to go to some pretty cool places throughout the year. I think it was simply because of the shift that took place inside of me this year that I've written about so many times. I just became so content. Content with what I have. Content with what I don't have. Content in what I do. Content in it being Tuesday, not doing much of anything at all. Content is such a great feeling. Sure, I'm happy. But contentment is better than happiness in my opinion. Happiness is too much expectation, too hard to keep up, too much of a let down when you don't. Content is more real to me. Whether happy or sad, you can still be content.

2010 held alot for me personally. I did things in 2010 that I've never done before. I was the Team Mom for 12 screaming girls of Harley's cheer squad. It was fun in a crazy-chasing-girls-around kind of way. I was also the assistant Team Mom to Brenden's football team. Anyone who knows me, also knows of my fear of roller coasters. And not to be a Fraidy Cat in front of my 7-year old son, I rode a kid-sized roller coaster with him multiple, back-to-back times. Yeah, I know this isn't a huge deed notable especially for courage, but it was still monumental in the grand scheme of my yearly doings. On the downside of never-done-before things lies the inexplicable happening of deleting Bryce's birthday pictures. I know, right? But somehow, it happened. Big dislike. The other thing worthy of noting on the downside list would be backing into my husband's parked truck......twice. Yeah, never done that before -- well, I couldn't really say that the second time......

The year also held alot for us as a family. March held a grand event that the older kids had asked for for months -- as in, on their birthday wish lists. In May, I won a family pack of passes to Kings Island. We didn't get to go as much as I'd liked, but we still got to rot there a few days over the summer. June took us to Indianapolis where we had our first professional (ok, me with a self-timer does not constitute "professional") family portraits taken by a super-sweet couple. (I cannot believe I never blogged about this!?!???) We also took our first family vacation -- which included my in-laws. For 5 days in July we got all tourist-y in Gatlinburg, Tennessee where we took in the Upside-Down Museum, outlet malls, salt water taffy, go-karts, putt-putt, good 'ol southern barbecue and a purdy, panoramic vision of the Smokies.

I turned 34 this year and spent the night with a group of fantastic friends. Most of them my best friends. Ever since I was young, I have spent my birthday at the Bradford Pumpkin Show and insisted on spending the big 3-4 this way, too. And yes, I will spend next year's big day there as well. This birthday was pretty much the same as any other of the 33 I'd had, only this year I opted for birthday apple dumplings instead of a birthday cake, FTW!!

Thinking back on specific dates I can remember of 2010, only three pop into my mind. Obviously, the day we got married will forever be etched in my mind. But two more significant dates are left standing. I spent Labor Day consoling my husband after losing his mom unexpectedly at the age of 53. The days after that were gruesome and bittersweet and left me grateful for what we have. And October 24th, 2010 was the last day Chris coached Brenden's football team. Typically you wouldn't think it'd be a monumental date for me -- the supportive wife -- but it was. It's knowing that bittersweet feeling he had inside. Those kids on that team were like part of his family -- no, our family -- and knowing he won't see them on a day-to-day basis anymore nearly broke my heart for him. I see how he's positively impacted them. And I know he was one of the only good influences some of those kids had. That makes me sad for them.

I don't remember any big achievements of the year. Or failures. Actually, I don't really like that word because even the whole backing-into-the-husband's-parked-truck held a profound learning experience. And a lot of jokes.

Music has a funny way of attaching itself to certain years or parts of my life. There are events and years of my life that come rushing back to me when I hear a particular song. Guns 'n Roses' November Rain instantly makes me think of 1992. Aerosmith's Angel will always take me back to my junior high gym to my 8th grade spring dance. This year will be no exception. Every time I hear Like a G6 I will go back to this summer. Riding to and from football/cheer practice, trips to the mall, or the grocery store. I'd have my windows down and sunroof open, the sun would be on my face and I would be belting this song out at the top of my lungs. I didn't care who could hear me, it made me feel free and much younger than I really am. A friend of ours posted this one on Chris' Facebook page the day of my mother-in-laws memorial service. I had never really paid close attention to the lyrics of that song until then. And they were perfect. And, as much as it pains me to admit this, I will forever be able to close my eyes and hear my kids belting out this song from our basement. It also shames me to admit that I know the words to this song. Lame, but true.

All in all 2010 was a great year. I spent a lot of time watching Modern Family, The Office, 30 Rock and football. We spent the majority of our money on groceries. We cried some days and we laughed nearly everyday. Sometimes we laughed so hard we cried. We wouldn't trade any of it for anything. And this is why:


Kids: Created by us
Memories: Recorded by me 1/1/2010 - 12/31/2010
Music: Oh! (What a Glorious Thing) by Akira the Don
Love: Out there for the taking

Office, schmoffice.

So, every day I check out my blog stats to track how many visitors, where are they from, etc. I'm pretty sure if I didn't have proof that people actually READ this blog (before my blog stats, the only way for me to know people read it, is if they leave a comment. I get virtually no comments. Just sayin'....) anyway, if I didn't have proof that people read this thing, I probably wouldn't keep updating it.

But, I have quite a following -- or so I've found out. I have people over in England (Hi Ashley!) and in Wichita, KS (Hi Jennifer!), someone in Fort Worth, Texas, Mountain View, California, Georgia, Indiana and Kentucky. I have readers from my old company, Mead, and some photographer friends I've just met. My best friend's mom in Florida reads it nearly every day and Aunt Leah will read it as long as I promise not to make her cry. My clients follow my blog and so do my friends and family.

In fact, if it were up to my friends and family, they'd make me write a book. I'm not so sure what I have to say is that important but it could definitely fall under the "entertaining" section. For sure. I mean what else would you call shooting out car windows with BB guns or getting peas stuck up your nose?

So imagine my surprise when I checked my log this morning and found this:

Executive Office Of The President. AYKM? And it wasn't just an "oops, how did I get here?" stumble, it's a repeat visitor! I KNOW what I have to say isn't THAT important or that amusing for that matter. Not in the slightest.

But I will admit that, for a small millisecond, it did make me feel pretty good. Short-lived, but it was there.

And while I'm at it, a big "Thank You" to everyone that stopped in check out what I had to say over the course of 2010. It's ok to leave a comment, too, while you're here....say hi, tell me I spelled something wrong, or what you had for lunch! I don't care. I just love hearing from you.

Oops

I still get giddy when it comes to Christmas. Giddy, like a four-year-old, laying in front of the Christmas tree, staring at the gifts as if I would be able to tell what was inside of them with my supertoddler x-ray vision.

I love the excitement of wondering what is inside of each box, delicately wrapped and lovingly tagged "To: Mom". When Taylor was able to start reading, I would tag some of the gifts from funny people. "From: Dora". "From: Scooby Doo". "From: Drake and Josh"......Spongebob......Your Crazy Mom. It's even carried over to Chris and the boys now. "From: Old Lady", ChickenHead (that's what Bryce used to call me all the time), Beyonce, The Cook, The Maid...and on and on and on. It's so funny to watch their faces when they see who it's from. And they must've caught on...I have one under the tree this year from "BooBoo".

And since we've been together, Chris and I have been pretty lax with each other's gifts. There are quite a few gifts that we know about from the other. But, there are a few that we like to keep secret until Christmas morning. You know how it goes -- you're out shopping together and see something that you like, and they respond with the "Ok, get it. But you'll have to wait until Christmas to have it." deal. That's how it was with my luggage set this year, and Chris' digital tape measure.

And kinda what happened with my coffee mug.

I say "kinda" because it was more like an accident than an intentional thing.

He was working away up in his office. I was working away down in mine. He yelled down to me "Did you order anything for $36??"

"No", I said. "Nothing."

"You didn't order anything for $36 from Photojojo?? Are you sure? Come up here and look," he hollered.

When it hit me.

I had sent him a link a few weeks prior for a coffee mug that I had put on my Christmas list. It had to be that.

By the time I had gotten to the top of the stairs and rounded the corner to his office, I had a huge smile plastered across my face. I looked at him, grinned, and he looked back at me all clueless-like.

"The coffee mug I had on my Christmas list was from Photojojo," I said. His clueless look was quickly replaced with a "aw-man-you-weren't-supposed-to-know" look.

"Oops," he said, followed by a smirking "Merry Christmas, babe".

A few days later, a box came in the mail with my "oops" Christmas gift. Since I already knew what it was, Chris let me open it. But, then I had to wrap it and "can't have it until Christmas".

The lady at the supermarket

I was in a hurry.

I had just enough time to get in and out of the store with the necessities written on the post-it pad in my mind.

a book for Harley's exchange at school
bread crumbs
cheese
chicken

I grabbed a cart and barreled towards the book aisle in the back of the store. My quick pace had me dodging in and out of aisles, nearly running over a wandering three-year-old by the jewelry counter.

I hurriedly picked out a book and went on my way. As I tore around the corner, standing there in front of the cough syrup, I saw her.

Her scarf caught my eye. It was a square of red and blue paisley with fringe around the edges. She had folded it in half to form a triangle, wrapped it around her head, and delicately tied it underneath her chin. Her long, dirty, white hair hung from under it as if it were mocking the fringe.

Over her layers of sweaters and sweatshirts, she wore a brown coat. From the obvious cracks and peeling on the outside, you could tell it was made of something other than genuine leather. Her sweatshirt hood peeked out from the collar and her soiled, cream colored, cable-knit sweater hung from the bottom. She had black sweat pants on -- at least two sizes too small an a hole in one knee -- no socks and grey sneakers. Her shoes were so worn that the soles were an inch thicker on the outside of her shoe than inside by the arch.

She was pushing her own two-wheeled cart. You could see paper bags arranged neatly under the clear plastic wrapped around it and her two bungee cords kept everything from shifting around.

Her face was round and her skin was aged. Her face attired wrinkles and a kind, content smile. She glanced at me, with her tender eyes, as if I broke her concentration, flashed a smile, and quickly went back to her task at hand.

There was a stack of coupons in her gloved hand. If I had to guess there were probably 50 of them in her stack. One by one, she'd take them off the top, find the medicine pictured on it, and place the coupon behind the price tag on the shelf. She was close to me at the end of the aisle and when she moved to the opposite end, to find the Advil Liquigels, I could see the mass amounts of coupons tucked down the shelves. There had to have been at least 3o, maybe 40, coupons sticking up like tiny white flags.

I watched her for a few more seconds, as she wrapped up the medicine aisle, carefully placing the coupon where the next lucky shopper could spot it. And as she walked away, I noticed her feet peeking out of the soles of her shoes.

And in those 20 seconds it took her to walk out of my sight, I felt it wave over me like a broken dam.

Here is this sweet, little, old lady putting coupons on products that she couldn't afford and had no intentions of buying. Just so someone else could reap the benefits. People she didn't know. People who would never know it was her that put them there. She probably didn't have a family to go home to. Or kids that cared that she wasn't wearing socks in her hole-soled shoes in the middle of winter. Instead of worrying about what she was going to fix for dinner, she was probably worried about where she was going to FIND dinner.

I continued on through the store with a heavy heart. I felt bad for her.

She looked absolutely content with what she was doing, and the simple pleasure of exchanging hellos with the passersby in the store. So why did I feel so bad for her? Was it because she hadn't had a warm shower? Or company while she was shopping? Was it because she was helping someone else -- people she didn't even know -- save a $1 on Nyquil?

I get so wrapped up in thinking that I have it so bad. Wishing personal relationships with people were different than what the are, having to deal with bad behavior from a 9 year old, burning the chicken casserole or backing into my husband's parked truck in the driveway. When, really, it isn't that bad at all. I could easily have it so much worse.

I don't know the sorrow of burying my husband of 53 years, or to be bedside next to my dying child with cancer. I don't know the emptiness of having a loved one fighting in a war.

I'm sure it's only human to lose sight of what you do have only to focus on what you don't have or how bad it might be from time-to-time. I'm sure I'm not alone in this either. You get so busy with day-to-day life...work, school, kids, schedules, bills, laundry and on and on....that before long you find yourself in a place that has no roses to stop and smell. Even if you are a positive person, you find yourself blanketed in negativity. Everything has become so convenient for us with our iPhone apps, take-out dinners, and DVR that we take so much for granted. In a way, we just expect it to be there and be perfect. And then when it's not, we act as though the world has fallen out from under our feet.

Our feet with hole-less shoes and clean socks.

So thank you, lady in the supermarket, for reminding me to count my blessings today and actually being grateful for them.

O Christmas Tree

I can remember decorating the Christmas tree when I was a kid. My sister and I would spend hours and hours putting multi-colored bulbs on the lower half and then fight over who had more of the silver, stringy, icicle stuff. Then, when we thought it looked too bare, we'd make paper ornaments and hang them on the tree with twist ties we recycled from loaves of bread.

It was always put in the same spot. Year after year it'd go in the front family room (or as my parents called it, the "good" living room -- good for what? is the queen coming over???). Anyway....our house was kind of an open floor plan on one side. The "good" living room opened up to the dining room and that opened up to the regular family room. (Would've been AWESOME for a bowling alley!) Mom liked the tree in the front room so you could see it from the outside....and so you could admire it from the inside at night.

My parents always insisted on a real tree....although my dad would probably beg to differ on that since he was the one that always got stuck on the clean-up crew. But the smell was so worth it. Even now, if I pass a real tree and close my eyes, I can see myself with those silver icicles in my hand. Of course, I can also still feel the prick in the arch of my foot come February when you're scuffing your feet on the carpet to shock your sister.

Now that I think about it, I don't even know where the real tree came from. I don't remember going out to the country tree farm all Griswald-like, trekking miles in the freezing snow, chopping it down and then lugging it back to the car. And I don't remember going to some Mom-and-Pop stop where they were in aisles, lined up like some evergreen tent. Yet, year after year, there it stood, proudly boasting in our "good" living room.

Not much has changed, really, from when I was younger. I still love putting up the tree. I'm finally able to put all of the bulbs evenly on the tree -- not just at the bottom. I just don't have anyone to fight over the icicles with.

It has to look perfect. Like, staight-out-of-Martha-Stewart-Living-magazine-perfect. I traded in the multi-colored lights for only red and white ones. Red and silver bulbs (placed perfectly thankyouverymuch), silver and red ribbon, candy canes, garland and a big white star at the tip top. Perfect.

Since none of the kids were here to help me decorate this year, I dediced to do something a wee bit different. Last year I took one still picture of the final outcome of the tree -- at night, all lit up. But this year, I decided to do a graduation from start to finish.

Any of my friends -- and especially my husband and children -- will tell you what a big, fat dork I am. It's ok. Really. I know this and I wear it proudly.

You'll see.

Cell phone chronicles

Well, here it is November. Summer's gone (Sob! Sob!) And I'm left to relive the past months thru all of the pictures I've taken of our crazy, spring/summer/early fall-ness.

Which would be great....if there were any.

No, I'm serious. I'm literally scouring thousands of images taken from April until now and I'm not finding too many of my little clan. I'm honestly starting to think my imagery documenting skills are falling to the wayside. Did I really work so hard for my clients and not-so-hard for my little HalfDozen? What's going to happen when I put together our 2010 Year In Review slideshow? Will I have to pay models to "stand in"?

I'm actually quite disappointed in myself. I didn't even blog as much as last year. And I know I had more to say. Just not enough time. Chris tells me all the time "you can't do everything". I know this. But I wish I could. I wish I could be every where with everyone and didn't have to let anyone down by saying no. But, it just doesn't happen that way.

I have some pretty cool things lined up for next year. I know some of you -- ok, who am I kidding -- all of you are wanting me to blog more. Wanda, every day might not happen, but it'll be more along the lines of once a week, for sure.

So anyway, back to the cell phone chronicles......I was going thru all of my pictures for 2010 when I realized that I had a gazillion pictures on my cell. Which prompted me to load them into Photoshop, which led to this blog post.

Apparently, the majority of my cell phone pictures are food and beverage. With 3% landscapes and 84% of them have my crazy kids in 'em.

Random can still be good, right?

Today's post is brought to you by the number 34.

It really hasn't been what I expected it would be.

Turning 34 in my mind many, many years ago, I imagined a much more horrific scene. Like already having had lyposuction after birthing 6 kids....hating my job....and receiving my Golden Buckeye card.

Good thing THAT'S not the case. (Although I did get a new Kroger's card this month.)

In fact, turning 34 has been incredible. If there is something better than 'incredible'.....it'd be THAT. To the third power. Times 50.

And to be honest, nothing monumental happened this year. Not like last year. It was just a normal birthday. A day with birthday cards, singing, you know....the works. It doesn't take much for me to be happy. I have everything I've ever wanted wrapped up in my little world. I have a phenomenal husband/father, 4 outstanding kids, so many amazing friends and family. What more could you want? OK, BESIDES Kirk Herbstreit jumping out of your cake??

As a running tally, I have gotten the following "gifts":

1 birthday apple dumpling
206 217 218 Facebook notifications
breakfast with my husband
a super yummy candle from my in-laws
4 homemade cards from my artsy-fartsy kidders
lunch with my girls
1 Bahama Mama
9 singing waitresses with
1 fudge sundae
9 text messages from my homies
2 voicemails
8 cards
1 virtual high-five from Chicago

AND THIS:




Why wouldn't I love my birthday?! =)

Here's some pretty cool facts about the day I was born:

1976 Prices
Bread: $0.30/loaf
Milk: $1.42/gal
eggs: $1.28/doz
Car: $5,418
Gas: $0.60/gal
House: $48,000
Stamp: $0.13/ea
Avg Income: $16,870/yr
Min Wage: $2.30/hr
DOW Avg: 1,005

People born on October 11
1948 - Daryl Hall rocker/songwriter (Hall & Oates-Sara Smile)
1918 - Jerome Robbins choreographer/composer (Tony-West Side Story)
1884 - Eleanor Roosevelt 1st lady/crusader

On TV in 1976
Happy Days
Little House on the Prairie
Mork & Mindy
Laverne & Shirley
Alice
Barney Miller
M*A*S*H
Charlie's Angels
The Bob Newhart Show
The Rockford Files

Hot New Toys in 1976
The Bionic Woman
Evel Knievel Stunt World
Stretch Armstrong
Barbie glamour head
Atari
Marie Osmond TV Makeup center
Little People
Little Professor Calculator
Muhammad Ali Action Figure

The price of gas makes me kinda sick...ok, alot sick. And so does the price of milk for that matter. It's kinda cool to know I share a birthday with Eleanor Roosevelt, but Hall & Oates??? I would totally be DVRing Laverne&Shirley if it were on TV today and Alice. And I can also remember getting the Barbie Glamour Head for Christmas one year (probably waaaaaaay after it was cool to have one).

Funny. NOW I feel old.

Tutti

The calendar tells me it's been 17 years, but the pings in my heart tells me that she's been gone much longer. It's a milestone that I never wanted to reach, and when I realized that I would be one of the unfortunate ones that would have that notch on my proverbial life belt, I refused to believe it would come this fast.

But it has.

The day my mom passed would normally come and go, just as any other day. The sun would rise and the sun would set regardless of the empty pocket in my soul. But this day is earmarked just for her. To remember her, to honor her. To laugh at her, and to miss her.

But this year took more than a day. It took weeks.

For over two weeks, heck, maybe even longer, it hovered around me like cigarette smoke in a billiard hall. Every thought led back to her, something she had done, or what she would have said. There were obvious reminders, and subtle triggers....the ones that sidle up to you without warning, emerging from every corner, tapping you on the shoulder when you thought you had other things on your mind.

I remember getting a card from one of my dearest best friends when she passed away. The front of the card read "Time will ease your pain". Time hasn't done anything for my pain at all. All time has done is made her laugh faint in my mind, the sound of her voice fade, and the smell of her perfume unfamiliar. I missed her more this year than I had any year, any day, in the last 17.

I felt like I was grieving for her all over again. Except this time was worse.

I'm sure I'm no different than anyone else that's lost their mother young. You reach these milestones and her absence is painfully obvious. Either consciously or subconsciously, you once imagine all of the important milestones you will reach in your life, and expect her to be there. And when she's not, not only are you mourning what was lost, but you're also mourning what will never be.

I missed my mom when I got my drivers license and had no one to take a cruise with. Or when I graduated college, or when I got my first job promotion and wanted to make her proud with the news. I miss her when I'm sick, or when I can't remember what works best on insect bites, or when no one else cares how rude the lady at the supermarket was to me. Whether she would have made me homemade chicken noodle soup or mailed me Calamine lotion and cotton balls if she were alive isn't really the issue. The fact that I can't even ask her for them is what makes me miss her all over again.

And now....now I have officially lived longer without her than with her. There's a sad beauty to this really, that my mom will remain forever young in my mind. I'll never have to watch her grow old or worry about her care during old age. But it also means I'll pass her before long. Up until this point my adolescence and hers were strikingly similar: we loved our parents but disagreed with them, took tests in public high schools, and fell in love. But I married at twenty and the choices she made at that age -- to remain single and go on to college -- are the ones that have separated our adult experiences.

Truthfully, my friends whose mothers are still alive can say the same thing. Daughters often surpass their mothers. That's just fact. But many of my achievements have been tinged with bittersweet because they're things my mother only hoped to accomplish but didn't' get the time to do. I graduated college, have visited foreign countries. I attended my sister's wedding and watched her children being born. I saw the first day of a new century. And one day, I'll turn 40.

More than anything I mourn who she would have been in my life today. I know at some point we would have crossed a threshold of Mother-and-Daughter, to a Best Friend relationship. There are times when I'm around my best friend and her mom and am green with envy. Jealousy consuming my whole body and wanting that relationship so badly with my own mom. Instantly I think about how things would be if she were alive today. I know she would come over in the mornings for a cup of coffee. She'd sit at my kitchen table with her steaming cup of coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other, bouncing her prosthetic leg up and down. What would we talk about? What kind of advice would she give me? Would she tell me I'm a good mom? Would she give me a better recipe for zucchini bread? Shopping plans, charity projects, overnight visits for the kids?

For nearly 13 years I have been looking at my mother as if she were a mirror -- a place to go when I need a benchmark of my progress as a mom. I look at her and try to identify the similarities and differences between us maternally. But I realize I'm working with limited material. On one hand, I'm comparing myself to a thirty-nine-year-old Tutti I know very little about, and on the other hand, I'm comparing myself to a woman that never ages. When I turned nineteen, she was thirty-nine. And now I'm thirty-three, and she's still thirty-nine. My mother will remain older and more experienced than me for only 6 more years. Then what? Who will I compare myself to then? Yes, I have maternal instincts. But when I doubt those, my fail safe has always been "what would Mom do here?". So many things I have done with my own children simply because that's what my mom did with me. The way I discipline, having the kids lay their school clothes out before going to bed, leaving them notes in inconspicuous places. What will happen when I need to talk to them about sex, or help them learn how to drive? Who will I compare myself to when I'm wedding dress shopping with my daughter? How will I know I'm doing it right?

I can say that I truly believe that God has a plan. He may have taken my mom young, probably to spare her the pain and agony of living so sickly, but He also gave me my Grandma. In many ways she IS my mom. And who knows....maybe I wouldn't have had the incredible relationship with her if my mom were still alive. Or the other numerous people that have willingly stepped in to fill her shoes in my life.

I have also come to realize that there is no timeline for the grieving process. No one can say "in 22 days you will be over it" or "hang in there, this time three years from now you won't feel a thing". It takes time...lots of time.

Yes, I'm still here....

I know, this is so unlike me. I haven't blogged in 20 days....about anything. I even had a client call to check on me!

Well, it's not a lack of material, I can tell you that. In fact, it's just the opposite. I have all kinds of things to share:

Ross and Michelle's wedding
My sweet Landon turned 6 months old (already!!!)
a twins' family session
Shawn and Holly's wildflower wedding (that caused me to have bizarre dreams)
a session of two cute kids
vacation in the Smokies
and a few other ramdom things I can't think of right now

So see, it's not a lack of subject.

If you follow me at all on Facebook, know that I'm already booked up thru October. Since my job as a mom comes first, I only open my schedule up for a limited number of sessions from August - October. As a mom of four, it gets pretty crazy and my calendar is sheer chaos: my two son's play football, my daughter cheering and my oldest daughter is running cross country. My husband coaches football and I'm a Team Mom.

Taking on a full workload on top of my already crazy life, means that my work as a photographer will be rushed, uncreative and downright crappy. I have certain expectations of myself as an artist -- the same expectations that you have as a client -- and by me monitoring my workload means that I can stay fresh as a photographer. That keeps you happy, me happy and of course my family happy.

If ay any time, I see my schedule slowing down, I will open my calendar back up for more sessions. So, just because I'm booked now, doesn't mean I'll stay that way! Keep an eye on this blog, or you can always check Facebook!

Sidetracked into a melted heart....

I'm sitting here sifting thru 900+ images on my cards and this jumps out at me.

And completely melts my heart.

I love this kid. And his freckles. And his eyes like his dad's. And, ugh, that innocent grin.

I love my job.

I love my passion.

I love my kids.

I love getting sidetracked.

I love my melted heart.

I love my Brady-esque family.

I love my life.

Current State of Affairs....

...and by "affairs" I really mean the environment in which I'm working. Or, attempting to work.

Remember back in the summer when I revealed to the world wide web my atrocious office space??

Yeah, well, it crept back up on me. I have no idea how it happens....I just wake up one day and it's there. Really. I swear that's how it works. There's song ideas for slideshows in there, packaging for client orders, seminar workbooks, logo designs, paper samples, and file folders. I think my missing lenscap might be somewhere in there, too.

Doesn't this warrant the necessity for an assistant?

Happy Halloween

Jumping ahead a few posts to wish everyone a Happy Halloween!

And because my posts are so much more exciting with a picture....here's the kids on Trick-or-Treat night. Harley was a punked up version of Hannah Montana and Bryce was a ninja. Brenden and Taylor were "too cool to trick-or-treat".


Busy week coming up....lots of posts to share.....

You'll Never See It Coming........

It just didn't make sense.

"Why did Brenden need his phone charger when we were going to be picking him up in 3 hours. AND it's 8:00 at night??"

The kids were at Papaw Reck's for the evening and it seemed a bit strange that we had to go out of our way to drop off a phone charger. Who could that kid possibly be talking to??!? And in true Chris fashion, his response to me questioning him about it was "I told him that I'd do it and I'm going to honor my word".

Geez, how was I supposed to argue with that?!

We pulled in and hopped out of the truck -- phone charger in hand, of course. Grandma Sheri was watching a movie in the living room when we walked in. We chatted a minute or two (ironically about how nice Chris looked) when she told us that the kids and Papaw were "camping" in the backyard.

"You can just go thru the kitchen", she said. So, we did. I was leading the way and was kind of in a hurry....we had people waiting on us to celebrate me turning 33.

"SUUUURRRRPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRISE!!!"

"What the ...what's going on???"

I looked around and saw all of my closest friends, smiles plastered on their faces like they had just pulled off some top secret Oval Office mission. The kids had made me a huge homemade birthday sign with big 3's all over it and it was strategically hung on the kitchen cabinets. There were cards and lots of hugs.

I'm pretty good at picking up on things and I was clueless. No one slipped up and said anything. No one was acting funny.

Centered smack-dab in the middle of the kitchen table was an enormous birthday cake with two, big, candles in the shape of a 3.....and a hideous picture of me in a tap dance costume from when I was eight years old. Yeah, not the ideal picture to be on my birthday cake, but I'll give the man credit for making it special and unique. Plus, you can waiver some of the embarrassment for someone that went out of their way to surprise me. Besides, it IS pretty funny.


So, I sat down and opened up all of my cards preciously made by four little kids. OUR four kids, to be exact. And one from Papaw,Grandma, and Katie (the dog). And one from my amazing boyfriend.

There's an episode of The Office where Jim and Pam are on the way to their wedding and talking about taking mental pictures so they don't forget anything. That's what I wanted to do right then, right there. I wanted to take the overflowing love I felt inside, bottle it up, and put it on a shelf where I could pop it open on my 80th birthday. I looked around me and saw all of these amazing people -- not only in MY life -- but also my girls lives now. I remember looking around and thanking God for them.

Chris interrupted me with "Do you want your gift now, or do you want to wait until tomorrow?" Since, technically, my birthday was the next day he could've easily made me wait. And before I could mutter the first syllable, he said "oh, you can have it now".

Delighted, of course, I sat there and was thrilled that I didn't have to wait another 24 hours for whatever was wrapped in that pretty red paper behind him. And, as he turned around to grab it off of the hutch it sat on, he knocked it to the floor.

To the hardwood floor.

I could tell it was a glass of some sort and I could REALLY tell once it hit the floor. "He broke it!...is it replaceable?.....what if the kids made it????" A thousand thoughts flooded my brain and my only hope was that no one was going to be upset. "Please let it be okay. Please let it be in one piece."

Chris hovered over it like a wounded kitten he was trying to heal. I couldn't see what kind of shape it was in (or what it was for that matter) so I stood up, hoping for a better view. In the seconds between me deciding to stand up to me actually standing on my two feet, Chris turned around and looked up at me.

On one knee.

One one knee with a tiny, black, box in his hand.

It was as if I were standing too close to a pizza oven. A hot flash from the wrinkles in my forehead to the polish on my pinky toes waved over me. My hands immediately covered my wide-open mouth. My eyes welled up with tears. "Don't blink, your mascara will run", I told myself.

I watched his lips move but I can't tell you what he was saying. I was lost in the adoration for this man who made me a much better person. I was in love with what he brought to my life, our kids' lives, our friends' lives. I was in love with his genuine-ness, his heart, his passion, and his values. I was in love with the way he left me little notes. I was in love with the way he smelled. I was in love with the way he made me feel.

"YES!!! Of course, I will marry you!!!!"

I was crying, Taylor was crying and even Bryce was thrilled (and that's sayin' something!!).

I have had so many personal hurdles to jump the last year. I've had a complete life overhaul -- for the better. I've had hard issues that I had to face and overcome. I've rid my life of the people who didn't positively influence me or my kids. I've replaced those negative people with good-hearted, genuinely caring people. I can finally share the good people in MY life with someone that appreciates them as much as I do. People that love us and have our best interests at heart. People that care to give good, honest advice. People that are family. People that love unconditionally.

I did all of that with the help of this man that stands beside me. I am finally in a place where I am truly content....right where I'm supposed to be, with who I'm supposed to be with. Our family is magical and our love is effortless.

It's amazing how God makes two lives intersect that the perfect time. It is obvious to me that He had a plan all these years. There was a reason I had to go thru the heartaches, the bad relationships, and the emptiness. There was a reason why He put me on the path to see the good people in my life.

And that reason was Chris. And I, along with our kids, will forever be grateful.

Guess....

...who came back today??

Proof....

...that I wasn't lying when I Twittered/Tweeted (what's the proper English for that??) that I have had a Praying Mantis outside of my office window.

He was there for a total of 9 days.....and ironically disappeared after I took his picture:

It was probably because I spelled "mantis" wrong in my Tweet.

I remember.

I was as uncomfortable as a person could get.

I was pregnant with my second child -- and I mean waaaaaaaaaay pregnant. As in the-last-few-days-of-my-pregnancy pregnant. My belly looked like I had scarfed down six NBA size basketballs. At once.

It was a much harder pregnancy than my first. Nine less than blissful months filled with all-day Morning Sickness, acid reflux, and insomnia. I hadn't slept in my bed for weeks and found the only refuge for sleep was pouring my half-propped-up self into the crevices of my couch with a thousand pillows.

I was wide awake earlier that morning, against my will of course. My little butter bean inside my belly was apparently at gymnastics practice. So, I started my familiar routine of channel surfing. 3 am is not the time to find quality on the tube, that's for sure. Unless I wanted to order that "Body by Jake Ab Rocker" or that gadget that could shell an egg.

Somewhere in the excitement of the infomercials, I must've fallen asleep. I woke up for a few minutes, then drifted back to sleep. The baby would move, I'd wake up, and then I'd talk her into going back to sleep....so I could sleep. Pleeeeeeaase, just ten more minutes.

Awake, asleep. Awake, asleep.

Finally, I just gave in. I laid there with my back to the TV, just listening. I remember thinking, "He's so cute. I could lay here all day and just listen to him." Bryant Gumble from CBS's The Early Show was talking about a plane and a building. He was talking to a woman by the name of Theresa, who had called into the show and was describing what she saw from her office window a few blocks away. The words didn't get my attention until she said "Oh my God! Another one just hit the other building!"

I rolled over and found what she was describing was the World Trade Centers. The tops of both buildings were like chimneys-- that thick, black, smoke stretched on for miles and miles. The TV was showing the streets of lower Manhattan, the frantic crowds running away from the horror, most still carrying their breifcases. One woman was missing a shoe and nearly everyone were on their cell phones.

I sat there for hours watching the events unfold in New York, Washington DC, and Pennsylvania.

And every year I remember today just like this. I remember where I was and what I was doing. I remember the events that took place. I remember the visions of that day as if they were permanently etched in my mind. I remember the ache in my heart when both of the Towers collapsed. I remember watching the people cry and hearing their shrills against the sirens. I remember watching strangers helping strangers. I remember the tireless efforts of the firemen and rescue workers.

I remember how lucky I am to live where I live, to have the freedom that I have.

Ash and debris cover a desk calendar at the Chase Manhattan bank on Broadway, about a block from the World Trade Center site.
(David Karp/AP Photo)

Sawyer Gene

Two nights ago, my best friend delivered a little miracle. Literally. He was disguised as this cute little baby package.....all 8 pounds and one ounce of him.

And, you know me, I was right at the hospital the next morning to hug Mom & Dad and hold that little ball of deliciousness with a stinkin' cute name.

With camera in hand, no doubt.

I couldn't make up my mind on my absolute favorite image, so I put them all in a slideshow:



Isn't he the cutest thing you ever laid eyes on?

Coming up.....

Busy, busy, busy around here the last couple of days! Lots of good stuff coming up:


* My boyfriend, Chris Jason Voorhees

* Shawn + Holly's E-session

* Cody, my big bad Senior

* And more of this little guy: