Cowboys

This was my first Ocala shoot last visit.  (Yes, this means I am behind in posting by 6 other shoots in addition to this one!  YIKES!)  But they chose to shoot at their parent's home, where there is a stable that matches the house!  It was so nice I couldn't believe horses resided there!  And the belt buckle and spurs and chaps... well, are there words??  I've included a lot here, but believe it or not there are even MORE at www.howiwonderphotography.com/blog.  SIGH... I ALWAYS over-shoot!!

 

Such a cute little man, hee hee:

 

Congratulations to You!

I am SO EXCITED for the hubby today...

Shaun has been working for Coleman Technologies for over 6 months now as a temporary employee planning to roll permanent at a set salary.  Prior to Coleman, he learned A LOT of lessons about the working world the hard way- (some things God takes you on a field trip to learn, things that can't be taught in a classroom.) And the past 6 years have been SOME FIELD TRIP for both of us.  Luckily, Shaun has never been a classroom kind of student- he learns the best on field trips, and he has been a very teachable vessel for the Lord's lessons along the way.  Coleman, however, is the first place since college where he has loved, loved, loved what he does every day at work- the people he works with- the company he works for- 

Well, a few hours ago I received a FEDEX package with a cover letter that read: We are pleased to make an offer to you for a position as Sr. Software Engineer with our Network Solutions Group in our Orlando, FL office...

I read back over the sentence again- back to the Sr., pretty sure that was missing from his current position title.  In keeping with the entire history of our relationship, I IM'ed him at work and said, 'hey, what is your current job title?'  He answered, 'Software Engineer.'  I then had the sheer joy of typing, 'well then congratulations- I just got a letter that invites you to be their Sr. Software Engineer!!'

His salary will be the same as planned- but it was never really about salary.  (Not that we couldn't use more money, who couldn't??)  This promotion is huge in other ways.  It's been a long journey here... to this place... to his first promotion.  This is a HUGE deal for him; a huge sense of accomplishment, the fruit of his hard-learned lessons and labor, and the silver lining for which we've been waiting.  I guess you could almost call it symbolic.

I want to tell him he deserves it, earned it, worked so hard to get here- but my PCA doctrine reminds me to not have a sense of entitlement about the whole thing. :)

What I can say with great certainty is that I am proud of him.  He has been a teachable heart, an amazing student.  He has shown stamina, courage, humility, and more.  He has been willing to take a long, hard look at his mistakes and short-comings and make change.  He gets better in every way every year that I know him.  I only hope I am half the person he is in these ways.  Shaun- CONGRATULATIONS!!!  I love you.

Passing on a Party Idea...

To my out-of-town friends. 

We went to the cutest Wonder Pets! party.  Like the children's tv show.  My friend, Jaime, made capes and let them decorate binoculars to go looking for stuffed animals to rescue in the yard.  We also played with peanut butter play do and pinned the tail on Ming Ming.  She made a cute cake, too!  It was so adorable... check it out:

Drop by her blog here.

 

BTW- the babies you see in the pics are the twins I photographed as newborns- can you believe how big they've gotten??

Mean Girls

Little girls are cute and small only to adults.  To one another they are not cute.  They are life-sized. 

-Margaret Atwood

 

Madalyn was especially bored at soccer practice last night, so when two 8ish year old's appeared, she was greatly encouraged.  She tugged on me, "look mama, two friends are here- I have someone to play with now!" and ran off to introduce herself.

Watching from a short distance, I thought maybe they didn't hear her when she said, "Hi!  My name's Madalyn, what's your name?"  They giggled and whispered with cupped hands, their bodies turned in to each other.  It was like there was a wall between them and Madalyn, like they couldn't hear her, nor knew she existed.  I waited a minute before interfering.  Madalyn spoke up, much louder, thinking, as I had, that perhaps they didn't hear her. 

Still, they giggled and whispered.  I strained to hear what they were saying but couldn't make it out, but what I COULD see, what was absolutely unmistakable, was the expression on Madalyn's sweet baby face.  I still couldn't articulate what I saw there- whether embarrassment, frustration, humiliation- but whatever it was it pained me.  Deep; struck a chord in a place I didn't know existed in me. 

I thought about walking over there and making them answer her, telling them that they were big and she was little and it would mean a lot if they could answer her... but by the time the thought had finished processing, she was off playing by Jack and his two-year-old, little soccer brother side-kick, Jaden.  She almost seemed as if she were trying to act content with their company just to save face because I'd never seen her play with them before.  But enough of it already, I was probably over-analyzing things and being a micro-managing soccer mom once more, so I would let it go... until that night.  When I tucked her into bed.

We sang and prayed and then she said, "Mom, my friends at soccer weren't very nice.  They laughed at me.  They said I talked funny.  They said 'Madalyn, she said Madalyn,' and laughed.  And they wouldn't answer me.  They wouldn't tell me their names.  They said 'she talks funny.'"

Should I just end it there?  I mean you already have an inkling of what ran through my veins- pure hatred, utter wrath, vindictive drive.  First, I wanted to rewind the clock and wring their proud little 8-year-old necks.  I wanted to snap their cupped, whispering fingers into two.  I wanted to yell, "She's THREE!  THREE!!!  Of course she talks funny! But what I want to know, is what kind of 8-year-old gets off on making fun of a baby??"

See, I've been somewhat prepared for this sort of moment with Evan, as sensitive as he is, and as different as he can be, but Madalyn is one tough cookie.  It's kind of like when I throw up.  (Just go with me here.)  I have an iron stomach (or is it stomach of steel- what's the saying?)  Anyway, by the time I feel the pain in my stomach, by the time whatever it is that's wrong inside is enough to make me nauseated- it's gonna be a rough, long night.  A LOUD, aggressive battle, an all-out war. 

That's how Madalyn is- she's tough- so it would take a lot to penetrate, and when it did, it would be painful. 

And it was.  For both of us.    

I kind of want to end this post here, because this is where it ends for me.  (Well, it's that, or me launching into all the stories about my encounters with mean girls... and my mother's... who bit all her charms off her charm bracelet, one by one, for a fat bully girl at her lunch table.)  But I feel that I owe you a happy ending.  A happy ending I don't have.

Of course I said a million things to her to try to sew together the tear they ripped in her sweet little heart- she named all the people who loved her and did think she talked well, she said her daddy and her Evan loved her and Jesus was in her heart and loved her- that He died for her (she said these things all on her own,) then together we talked about how those girls were missing out because she's such a cool kid, how she needed to make sure to never treat anyone that way because doesn't it hurt, and about how Jesus says she is fearfully and wonderfully made- but none of that helped. Me.  

My words sounded, to me, like melted butter.  Nothing of substance, no steel wool stitching to mend the giant gash in both of our hearts.  I felt utterly ill-equipped to protect her from the world in that moment, and also highly aware of the reality that I had no resources for fixing her wounds.  I could only leave it.  I could only pray that God would use that pain to draw her to Himself, and pray that He would use it to make her a better vessel for spreading His love, and then I have to leave it.

I guess in a way that's what this post is; a place to dump it at His feet, an intentional way of saying, "You see it. It matters to You, so You can have it." 

But it still hurts.

She loves pretending to be a bride right now, ever since my cousin's wedding.  She drags me in stores at the mall just to see "white bride shoes like Scottie's."  She will ask things like, "when I grow up I can get married?  And I can marry Evan and be a bee-yoo-tiful bride just like Scottie?"  

Rainy Day

This is the first shoot I've EVER had to reschedule! I took this first shot inside a hallway but was paranoid about how low the light was, so we rescheduled and shot the subsequent shots.

I've shot in rain MANY times, but it was an all-out THUNDERSTORM. Her dad had to drive me to my car!

Brown-eyed Beauty

Meet Lauren. How is it that I get to photograph so many BEAUTIFUL children??

Because God MADE so many beautiful children, I suppose. His creativity is unending- and astounding! She and her brother were so handsome... and sweet together:

More of them at www.howiwonderphotography.com/blog.

Weekend Ramblings

This weekend felt long to me.  In a good way. 

Thursday, my dad's wife, Nancy, called and asked if I wanted her to sell the shotgun my dad gave me for Christmas years ago.  Had NO idea how much shotguns were worth- but my dad never does anything halfway, which should've been a clue...  SO, I took her up on it.

Friday we had a date night and went shopping for summer clothes for the kids. (Shaun is so awesome about encouraging me to spend money because I can get paralyzed really easily about it.)  We ate at this new restaurant (at least new to us) called Elephant Bar... anyone been there?  Really good, we thought.  AND- there are so many cute clothes out there right now- you know how some seasons/lines are better than others?  Well I think this year rocks... at least for Target and Children's Place and Gymboree- although I didn't shop at the latter because I can't bring myself to spend 30 dollars on tee.  Children's Place has some cute boys tees right now- 3 for 18- really cute.  And madras shorts-  AND the big boy size fabrics still coordinate with the baby boys, so Evan and Jack can match.  Another two years and they'll resist my matching attempts, so I want to be cheesy while I can!   (So thanks dad and Nancy for a needed shopping spree!)

Saturday morning we got up at the butt-crack of dawn to travel to Tavares for a ride on Thomas the Train.  My mom accidentally bought the earliest tickets possible, but it was the best mistake she ever made because there were NO crowds.  The kids got to pick the best seats on the train, bounce a million times in the bounce house, rule the playground, pick their favorite train tatoos, listen to a storyteller in costume, eat hotdogs and french fries, and watch a magic show- which Evan was chosen to volunteer for an act and has a new passion- magic tricks, in result.  It was happening on the edge of Lake Dora, too... they seriously thought they rode the train to the land of Sodor, the most magical place of all.  Then they washed down the experience with ice cream cones from a huge ice cream cone shaped building, can life get any sweeter?  They think not.  (Thanks mom and Doug-  pictures to come.)

Then we napped.

Then Madalyn and I went out for special time later that night and spent the remainder of the gun money (which I technically have not deposited to our account yet, nice?)  We had really fun girl time and ate dinner at Chili's, and I thanked God again that he gave me a daughter- she's the best little companion.  So chipper and funny!  I laughed aloud NUMEROUS times on that venture.  She is ONE funny chick. 

Sunday, Shaun played drums at church.  I haven't heard him play in some time and it's always a treat for me- he's so dang good at it, if I do say so myself.  Very tasteful in his style.  Great sermon, too, followed by another great nap.  I think two things made this weekend great, actually- napping, and not working.  I usually can't help but work, but this weekend I refrained, and I think it really made a difference.  God designed REST for a reason: sanity.

What did you do this weekend?

Game Night

Almost every picture I have from last season looks like this one (from this season.)  The coach is positioning Evan and reminding him that he is, in fact, playing soccer. 

This year, things are looking up.  I even have some shots like these:

PLEASE NOTE: Every child playing is at least one, if not TWO, heads taller than Evan, who is in the proud 25% for his age group...   

Ah, but before you feel sorry for him, ask yourself this: who- has- the ball? 

Tiny Tim! That's who!  And right here it looks like he's about to lose control of it, right... right??? 

Wrong! 

Make the tall kids run, boy, make 'em RUN! 

(Selective evolution, my rear.  We short people can breed some real keepers, too.)

Gotta love him. 

He didn't score, no.  But look where all his teammates are... BEHIND him.  No one to pass to, no one defending him.  Who do they think he is, RUDY? 

Well now Rudy's on the bench.  But everybody's gotta do a little bench time.  Keeps 'em humble. 

See that water bottle of ours?  That was the last time I ever saw it. We left it there- went back the next morning- gone.

So anyway, while he's on the bench, let's check on the other kids.

What, pray tell, has Madalyn been doing this whole time...

I have no idea.  What IS she doing?  Snow-skiing, maybe? 

And where's Jack?

Trying to push his stroller into the parking lot, have you read this blog before?  (Because if you have, you already knew that answer.)

The sheer JOY there is to be had in an umbrella stroller that matches my clothes!

He thinks he's sitting in the stroller... has no idea he's on the foot strap.  I'm not telling him! Are you kidding?  He's happy, isn't he? 

Sort of.   

Anyway, let's get back to the star of the show because I have even more exciting, aggressive shots, check it out:

Hmm.  It's getting darker outside.  Maybe THAT'S why these two going after the ball can't see they're on the SAME TEAM.

Nonetheless- GET IT EVAN, don't let BATMAN BOY take your ball!  I scream in my head- because- he's little.  (He's Rudy, remember?)  Everybody cheers for Rudy. 

Blondie tries to make a go at it and look at him- NO!  (Arms in.)  This is where he draws the line.  Nobody's takin' HIS BALL.

You got it, you got it, boy...

Nope.  You don't got it.  You lost it... to Batman Boy, aka TEAM MATE.  Now that's just wrong.

Uh oh.  I hear calamity behind me...

Car crash.

Classic Madalyn; leaving the scene of an accident.  Stepping right over it, right over her brother's head.

'Oh, huh. Maybe my brother needs a helping hand as he's stuck under a heavy piece of machinery.  Nah...  Dad'll get him.'

Justice has been restored in the land. 

 

Well maybe not for her.  For her, justice would be letting her out on the field to play; show 'em what she's made of. 

The coach said hi to her last practice and instead of saying hi back she, as if she'd been waiting for someone to acknowledge her existence, spouted off: "next year I'm going to play soccer and I'm going to kick that ball in there."  Show the rest of those toddlers how it's done.

But for now, I'll roll in the grass.  

That's all there is for us three year olds.  Rolling in the grass.

So I might as well perfect it, if that's all there is for me here. 

Do I look like an antelope by a water hole in Africa, because I feel that graceful and free right now- really, I think I have this down.

 

Alright, sure.  I'll put on a happy face if you're gonna pay me some attention. 

I knew it.  You're already going to watch Evan play... on the field... where I should be playing.  Fine.  Leave. 

Uh oh.  Jack must've been plucked from the parking lot again, I hear crying...  

   

  

Oh come on, stop gasping.  This is not child abuse.  This is how we get him to stop crying.

For real.  I promise.

See?  Look at his face.  I told you.

Then a little of this...

And a little of that...

And...

All better.     

This always helps, too. 

Are you feeling dizzy from all the scrolling yet?  Yeah, this is pretty much how I feel at every practice and every game.  It's like ping pong for the brain.  I spot Jack...

 

then Madalyn...

(still no idea what she's doing...)

then look for Tiny Tim...

then back to Jack again. 

One, two, three, it goes... one, two... I only have three, right?  

One.

Two. 

Three.

(And we even do this onetwothree scanning madness when there are two of us around to do it, Shaun and me, because we need back up- in case we start acting, you know, human or something, and miss one of the check points.)  When there aren't two of us, when there is no backup, well, at some point a stranger usually shows up with one of our kids in tow and we act all shocked and everything, (even though we're not because one was bound to end up missing with no backup.)

Now, I would be only telling you part of the truth if I left it here.  I have not yet show the other shots of Evan in action.  The ones in which he is making sound effects and physically demonstrating how machines work, how Tom and Jerry transform into monsters after drinking potions, how Horton hears a Who on a flower, and what the x-ray binoculars will look like that he will invent 12 years from now when he works for Nasa:

Which will look like this.

In case you were wondering.

Sound effects...

gesturing...

who knows what?  

and more sound effects to accompany whatever his brain is thinking.

Because just playing soccer is not enough.  There must be sound effects and gestures and a whole second layer of imagination, theory, and mechanics at work beneath the game itself, I mean, otherwise-

what would he do with his brain?

Or... maybe he just thinks they're playing football.

No.  No, I'm pretty sure he's making something... or transforming...  definitely one of the two.

MEANWHILE...

Madalyn, having perfected the art of rolling in the grass, has moved on to her Kung Fu...

And it was not much longer that the Cheetahs called it a game.  (They lost.)  And made a pile of hands to yell in their 5-year-old voices, "GOOOOOOOOOOO CHEETOS!!"  Because their uniforms ARE orange, and because they have no idea that there's actually a leopard-like animal called a Cheetah. 

No, they think they have the COOLEST NAME EVER because they're named after America's favorite snack food, which pretty much sums up the entire pee wee soccer experience.