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:

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.

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??

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?"  

Labels: Madalyn, milestones, pictures

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!

Labels: business

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.

Labels: business

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?

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.

I don't care what they say! Two is the best age!! This little one had the CUTEST VOICE you've ever heard. The way she pronounced her words... well they don't need pictures, they need a video camera!

The rest are on www.howiwonderphotography.com/blog

Labels: business

Labels: hbo, tv

Madalyn insisted on wearing her red "sparkly shoes" to school yet again today.  No matter that her clothes were pink and green. 

I feel like her shoes mark out the seasons of our lives.  When she was a toddler she had red Mary Jane's that squeaked when she walked.  She wanted to wear them and only them.  All the time.  Now she has the ruby slippers and it's same song, second verse.  We punish her by withholding the shoes- do we need to take away your squeak shoes, we used to ask her, and it'd straighten her right up. 

But it's precious to me.  I will NEVER be able to part with these shoes, NEVER.  No matter how worn, no matter how smelly.  In some way, those shoes will keep her three-year-old self alive forever to me. 

I was reading my friend's blog this morning and really appreciated these sentences she wrote about her two-year-old daughter:

Yesterday, she was playing with my long hair and then I saw that she reached up and pulled her beautiful little curls, trying to get them to come down by her ears like mommy's.  It moved something in me... to fight for her against all the elements that tell a women she's not enough of whatever.   In that moment, I realized the only way I could protect her would be by believing the same for myself.  To live the difference for her.  I cannot teach what I don't believe.

For some reason it made me think of these pictures below of Madalyn in the accessories SHE picked out that day, and about how she really has a strong sense of who she is right now, regardless of anyone else's opinion.  She is constantly putting on shows, performing tricks, making up songs, and preaching. 

Oh you heard me.  PREACHING.  And she can preach.  She can make me cry, and not just because she's my child, but because she preaches with such passion and conviction- not because she thinks I will respond, it doesn't seem, but because the tomb was empty, glory!

She will launch into some long and spirited monologue on how some things she does might make God upset but He always loves her- that the tomb was empty- that He is sooooo wonderful and gives her sparkly shoes and the food she needs, and her Baby Ice Cream (stuffed dog.)  Each word is drawn out and her expressions are half the sermon.

And we love our enemies.  We don't love the things they do but we love them because Jesus wants us to love our enemies!  

She asks daddy if she looks beautiful every morning and he is more than willing to rave.  She blushes and starts walking very feminine when he does this.  You can watch her respond to his esteeming words in that very moment.  She starts swaying her hips and dragging pointed lingering toes behind her while he coos.  She suppresses a smile and starts batting her eyelashes, cuts her eyes up to one corner. (I didn't know that battling eyelashes was a real thing- I thought it sort of developed through cartoons...) until I had Madalyn.  She started working those eyes at 8 months old.  And I really hope and pray that we not only preserve those ruby slippers, but that- together- Jesus, daddy, she, and I- we are able to preserve that confident Spirit in her, so that she knows she is a child of the King.  A true princess. In the strongest sense of the Word. 

Here are some pictures of her "tricks" which involve her striking a pose like Madonna.  Okay not LIKE Madonna- Heavens no- but statuesque, rather: 

I particularly like this last pose- I MEAN TRICK- with the twisted legs.  Please note the seriousness in her face.  This is very serious business.  It takes work.  It takes concentration.  Takes FOCUS, people.

These three above demonstrate her fabulous summersault.     

It's electric!  

Her Aerosmith moment. 

Go, party girl- GO, GO, GO! 

This is her "whatever you do, don't smile" face.  

She's about to break... she can't hold it anymore... here it comes-

SHE BROKE!  I told you.

Labels: Madalyn, pictures

We're getting an early start to Summer 'round here. Well, not me, personally. I just don't prefer 20 degree temperatures and leftover rainwater for my swimming, but these guys don't seem to mind. Madalyn keeps talking about how she can swim "because it's summer," as if the season itself is responsible for her progress in taking breaths and crossing the pool, nevermind that it's actually SPRING right now.

Speaking of Madalyn and summer- today, we here at McDonnell Place will be baking Strawberry Pie, per Madalyn's request. I'm not sure why she wanted to cook this particular pie- maybe Strawberry Shortcake (as in the cartoon girl from the 80's who lives in a dessert house- not the dessert Strawberry Shortcake,) had something to do with it- but it is a first for me. I didn't even know people put strawberries in pies. But it is in keeping with the lovely Spring weather we're having here. (Or Summer weather, depending on who you're talking to.)

So let's start, shall we?

Ingredients:

First, we will rally our kitchen assistants. We will give them **VERY BLUNT everyday knives to help remove the stems from the washed strawberries:

Interesting. Is that a bundt pan sitting there? Oh, right. I took this picture back in February. Still, the kids look the same. (Some with less hair, some with more,) but more or less- the same. Jack- quite the ladies man with those lips, and the cherry coupe in his hand- what a stud.

After trimming the berries and baking your pie shell you fill it with whole strawberries, like so:

It's okay if your pie crust slides into itself like this. In fact, it is to be strived for as it makes it appear more, er... "homemade."

Next, mash your remaining strawberries:

Add sugar:

And stir.

And cornstarch.

Which by the way, comes in a nifty can now. (Am I giving away how long it's been since I've baked?)

Add water, too... stir. Boil this mixture only about 2-3 minutes as it gets thick really fast.

Now, I'm going to do something that isn't in the original recipe, that I read in a review. I'm going to add butter while it is still really hot.

Every recipe needs butter and I was a little disturbed to see this one lacking, and thus, very thrilled to read Shellberry's review on allrecipes.com, in which she says she added 1 T butter. HECK YEAH, girl!

Hmm. Does that look like a tablespoon? I may add a smidge more, who can really tell. Point is, ADD BUTTER, then pour mixture over berries already in caved-in crust:

I know, my mouth is watering, too. But wipe your chin because we can't eat it yet. We will scald our mouths senseless. Into the fridge it goes:

When you have three children and a part-time job and are a terrible multi-tasker, you purchase many pre-packaged items at your local store, OH-KAAAY?

Then you wait. And you change the smelly diaper you've ignored the last 5 minutes that is starting to ruin the scent of strawberries. (That kind of scent combination could be scarring, so take care of it, already.) A short hour later we will come back and get it out.

Oh, look at that. It's an hour later...

I WISH you could taste this!! And I don't even like fruity things much.

Well, it's pretty and all, but we can't have such a lovely piece of food on a paper plate! We better give this one to the kids and start over.

(SIGH...) MUCH better. But isn't everything better with ice cream? And whipped cream. I only wish I would take a picture of it all running and oozing together, but I can't because I'm speaking in present tense when, in fact, the pictures were taken about a week ago- and- okay- I have to end abruptly here because I'm suddenly STARVING.

Labels: let there be butter and sour cream, Madalyn, pictures, summer

It was such a relaxing weekend!  (And much-needed.)  It's strange I can say that, come to think of it, because I had two shoots on Saturday and one of them was partially rained-out so we had to finish it up on Sunday.  But I guess it was relaxing because we kicked the weekend off with a Friday date night and then finished it with a long nap on Sunday, followed by watching "Enchanted" with the kids in our bed.  NAPS are the best! 

But let's get back to the date night for a minute.  No, for the rest of this post- 

This is the first year in our 7.7917 years of marriage that we have been able to afford date nights once or twice a month, (and that we have seen the need of date nights with so much busyness in life right now.)  We used to make dinner together, have a drink, and watch a movie- all at home- and call it a date.  That no longer suffices because we feel so drawn to our work, or a Bible study, or the child who wakes up with a bad dream.  And a date night is worth getting a night off from bedtime routines now and then alone!

So for our Friday date, we ate dinner out, and then there weren't any movie times that suited us so we decided to get all wild and crazy and go bowling.  I had completely forgotten how competitive I am!  I think Shaun had, too.  (Not to mention, I'm the biggest trash-talker this side of the landfill.)  Poor Shaun.

No.  NO!  NOT poor Shaun because poor Shaun kicked my trash-talkin' tail.  The Lord willed it- I needed some serious humbling that night.  And not only in bowling.

We played arcade games while waiting for a lane to open.  We shot hoops first.  All I could think was we have to get a basketball hoop at home because I think I could seriously bring it, so I said to Shaun, we should get a basketball hoop at home. 

Then air hockey was up. I flung the first few pucks in his goal, then made the decision to casually say "yeah, we had an air hockey table growing up." BIG MISTAKE.  Bragging before victory is always a big mistake, and I knew it the minute it was out of my mouth. 

Now, he took the boasting in stride, (being the bigger person of the two of us,) and smiled and asked if that was right.  Then he slung the next 7 pucks into my goal. 

Then we played again.  (OHHHH, it was ON!)  Then I lost again (but only after having my hopes up very high.)  I even pulled some armpit muscle I didn't know existed, getting downright violent in the horror of it all. How am I ever going to make my comeback bowling with this pulled muscle was all I could think.

Lucky for me, I thought, Shaun has been eyeing the Nascar racing machine all night, and I stored that away in the back of my mind as a chance to really make him hurt- even with a pulled armpit muscle.

The time came, and we sat down in the driver seats. I was already ahead of him, mentally and all, because when it was time to select players I went after his favorite driver, Dale Jr., with every ounce of my being. 

He said, "you already picked someone- who?" 

"Dale" I said casually, then smiled as wide as a wolf.  I could feel the light flash off my sharpest tooth and hear the high pitched chime as it did. 

The race started and I tore it up... I mean I was all over the track (and the grass and other cars.)  I'd overheard Shaun talk of drafting before, and knew this must have had something to do with catching the draft off other cars, so I was all over my competition.  I passed Shaun up several times. 

Final Lap-  HE WON AGAIN.

"How did you DO that!!!"  I screamed incredulously.

"I drafted... you don't know how to draft." 

He said this not in a mean way, but in an I watch the sport, you don't way.

The worst thing about Shaun winning is that WHEN he wins, he doesn't gloat.  For some reason that DRIVES ME CRAZY.  It's worse than gloating, it's a quiet gloating... no.  No, it's more like well I already knew I was so much superior at this than you that it's no surprise, no need to gloat, I mean it's not even a big deal to me.  Yet, inwardly I know his heart is doing back flips, and his big lofty brain is high-fiving his drummer hands. 

Then I took a rest and watched him play a game of pinball.  He took it very seriously and all- something about his dad being a record pinball player.  (And would somebody PLEASE explain to me the intrigue of pinball because I'm completely missing it... what makes one pin ball player better than another?  Other than the points.  Now really.)

Anyway, our name was then called, our lane was open, and you can imagine the amount of pressure the arcade experience had put on our bowling game. 

I carefully chose a heavy, lime green ball, was first up.  I bowled a spare, which was amazing for somebody who generally can't bowl to save her life.  This was followed by a strike, making me entirely too full of myself too soon.  As in keeping with the rest of the night, it went WAY downhill from there.  (And that was even with the help of a pro bowler in the lane next to us.) 

He was heavy-set, with a black pony tail and tan skin and wore a shirt that said Fighting Terrorism since 1492.  He had arm bands around his forearms, a very serious-looking ball and bag, a whole lane to himself just for practice. 

Can I give you some advice, he asked me while Shaun was up.

Please, I begged him quietly, so Shaun would think my comeback was all MY doing.

You don't have to go so hard at it, a slow ball is fine.  And keep your body straight, point your shoulder where you want your ball to go.

Hmm, I thought, that piece of advice could pretty much be aimed at my entire life.

I wanted to make pro-bowler proud, though.  So I did what he said, however, with little improvement.  He tried to give a nod of approval where he could, but my arm was tired and my husband was smiling humbly and still not gloating.  It was all over for me.

I told my friend on the phone the next day, "I forgot how competitive I was- it felt soooo good." 

She assured me that as long as it didn't ruin my whole night it wasn't a bad sort of competitive, though I'll admit that I said to Shaun on the way home, "Now we have to go home and play some card games- we can't end it like this." 

And yes, by like this, I meant with me losing. As though he would see my point, that it could only end with him losing.  But I'm writing about it more seriously than I lived it.  It was a really fun night, and it felt good. When it was over, it was over. 

Well. I can't lie.  It was over until next date night.  (Which may be the only reason I could let it go in the first place...) there's always next time.

This shoot was for a family from Michigan, down for a conference at Gaylord Palms, which is a beautiful resort for a shoot. This little boy is another "Jack" and he has the BLUEST eyes! He is quite a traveler and was amazing for having not had a nap that day!

I got to thinking about it, and I've had the privilege of shooting families from not only Greater Orlando, Ocala, Jacksonville and Tampa, but also from Michigan, Wisconsin, Virginia, and Iowa- what a treat; to meet such great families from all over (and to see some of you I already know again!)

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

Labels: business

I just did another shoot here yet to post (as I am behind on posting shoots, as always.) But isn't it a BEAUTIFUL place??

Labels: business

Labels: business, funnyman, hbo, shaun, tv

Today was a full day. All of Spring Break will be full, actually... gotta keep the rascals busy.

We started the morning at the park with friends, then we came home for naps/work. Then we took a swim in the pool and began to think towards dinner and soccer practice, which was when I remembered it was my day to pray and took 5 at the computer to write an email prayer.

BIG MISTAKE. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID. I completely forgot that I can't do anything but children when said children are awake, OR ELSE BAD THINGS HAPPEN:

And see the STUPIDEST part of the above was that I spoon-fed them the idea. Oh, you heard me.

Shaun and I were being stupid with them on the couch, and I tried to scare them with Evan's safety scissors, making snip noises around their heads... and Shaun said, "what are you doing?" But before he even said it I thought, 'what am I DOING?' Like one of those moments when your hands