Yesterday, I asked him to go to time out and HE WENT.  And stayed there.

I told him no bath until he at his green beans, and he ATE THEM.

I think we're making progress. 

On a side note, does he look like Brangelina's older baby girl here to anyone?  I thought so.  (I think it's the swollen Angelina mouth from the sunburn.)

Hot dog, I love that smile. 

Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggety dog...  (He loves that Mickey Mouse Song.)  He also loves the Thomas song and rides his Thomas car around the house humming hm hm hm hm- hmhmhm, hm hm hm hm- hmhmhm...

This morning he picked up a small plastic bag from my jewelry box that had blue buttons in it. 

Those are buttons, I said.

He tried to open them.  Candy, he said.

No, they're for your clothes, see, (I held them to my shirt.)

Oh, maaan, he said.

Okay, I know I said we were leaving the dunes last post, so let's leave already.

We will have to come back once more for Evan, (I'm just warning you now, you're not clear out of the dunes yet.)

Like any other two year old boy, he hated the chair.

Why, oh WHY would I make him sit on a sinking green chair when there is so much wide-open space to run in? 

Oh the injustice!  The inhumanity!

But he doesn't understand that THIS...

is very difficult to keep in focus.

Freedom makes him happy.  So I treat him like any other client and suck it up, I do what makes him happy.

And happy is good.  So what if my quads hurt from running in a bent stoop to catch this.

I do it for other kids all year long, why not do it for him?

THIS frozen moment makes it all worth it; totally worth feeling like I actually went to a gym and did the stair master. 

And I guess can make that sacrifice.  

Labels: baby, beach, boys will be boys, conversation, Jack, national lampoon family vacations, photography, pics, summer

I hope you don't get sick of hanging out at the beach with us this week. 

I, for one, am tired of the dunes.  So come on- let's go to the water!

Ahhh, there.  Her sunburned body up close.  Much better.

But I love that scraped knee, I really do.  Let me tell you how she got it.

All day, the day before we left, she begged me to take her on a walk with Charlie.  ALL DAY.  So I finally consented even though I was trying to pack.  We put him on a leash with her on the other end, headed out the door, and can you guess the rest?  Yes you can- two seconds later Charlie was walking her... dragging her, actually, down the sidewalk. On her face. 

She was lucky to come away with only a scraped knee.  We turned right back around and went inside to bandage her up before starting all over again.  With Evan holding the leash.

But all is well now because the salty ocean worked its magic.

Now she is busy making new boo boo's to keep count of.

Childhood is good like that...

You don't dwell on yesterday's wounds.

You wallow in the present. 

Labels: beach, boo boos, Madalyn, national lampoon family vacations, photography, pics, sugar and spice

This was my slip when I was little.  I had no idea how to pose like this when I was little.  I was too innocent and pure and naive.

Just kidding.  She totally gets that from me.  I'm a poser.

My mom has pictures of me in this slip and I am quite brown from the summer sun like she is.  Okay, okay, she's red because I didn't reapply her sunscreen.  But normally she's more brown than I ever am or was. 

I wish I had those old photographs to post with these.  Mine were done in front of a mirror in a studio, though, with the white hazy effect of the 80's, and I kind of hope to imitate those some day. 

But "some day's" tend to never come.

Comparing our personalities is much like comparing our photographs, though.  She's not completely like me.  She is and she isn't. 

She can make friends with a lamp post, (and in fact, she made friends with a little girl not even in our group this trip and spent an entire day with her,) but she's not nearly as sensitive as I was when I was little.  She's hard to offend or upset, which means if someone hurts her feelings it makes me MAD.  Because it takes a lot to hurt her. 

She's tough, and sassy...  saucy.  She's saucy.  I like that word.  I learned it when I read Wuthering Heights in high school.  It might be one of my favorite words, and I'm so glad I have a daughter who fits it.

My Aunt Carolyn described her as having a "coy" way about her, which would be another completely perfect description.

(She looks a lot like my baby pictures in this particular one, don't you think, mom?  Nana?) 

She's more girly than I was, though.  I secretly hated pink, and matching mother-daughter clothes, and just clothes in general.  I preferred water-skiing and bike-riding, though I did love my baby dolls.  L-O-V-E-D my doll babies.  They went with me everywhere.  But I preferred THEM to wear the frilly pink things, not me.

She loves pink.  L-O-V-E-S pink.  And doesn't really care for baby dolls for more than five minutes at a time.  She would rather mother her stuffed animals.  She prefers the frilly clothes to be on her, not on her toys.  She is attracted to anything sparkly, shiny, glittery, flashy, fancy, much like a Barracuda.  She recently told me she didn't want to wear a particular outfit because it wasn't "fancy enough." 

On this beach trip, case in point, we had to make her wear a t-shirt the last day because she was getting too red ( don't pretend you didn't notice.)  The t-shirt offered by a friend was a Batman one.  She was NOT okay with this- I repeat- NOT okay.  She threw the biggest, most unexpected fit I've ever witnessed out of her.  When I asked what was so terribly wrong she told me the t-shirt hurt her feelings.  I asked her how on earth a shirt could hurt someone's feelings.  She said, "because it doesn't appreciate me." 

Actually it was more like- becuzz it duzzent uhhh-priiii-shaa-aate meeee- ah-ho-hee-hee-hee....  (face crumpled in distraught.)

In adult terms: it ain't flattering.

And she does say some funny, funny things.  I am sad to have forgotten a lot of them already.  Yesterday, though, she said while hanging from the handle of a grocery cart upside down and thinking it was hard work, "WHOA, I can't handle this!!"  To which Jack parroted, "WHOA- I can't HANDLE this!"

She says sweet, thoughtful things, too.  She tells me I'm her best friend in all the world.  She tells me I look so very beautiful when I SO don't.  She says I'm her sister.  AMEN!  We are sisters, girl!  We certainly are.

She used to tell me she loved me soooo strong, but she's old enough to know that's not how people say it anymore.  And that makes me want to cry.

She asked me the other day if God could ever die and be gone.  Could he be run over by a car? 

We talked it over some and I realized that what she was essentially asking me was whether or not we could ever be separated from God, and was this something she should worry about?  The Lord brought two of the few verses I have hidden away in my heart to mind- Psalm 139-

7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
       Where can I flee from your presence?

8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
       if I make my bed in the depths, ^[a] you are there.

9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
       if I settle on the far side of the sea,

10 even there your hand will guide me,
       your right hand will hold me fast.

11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
       and the light become night around me,"

12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
       the night will shine like the day,
       for darkness is as light to you.

and:

38For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,^[a] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8

(Of course I paraphrased these verses to meet her understanding.)  Then I asked her if God answered her question.  She nodded.  I said, "where did he answer your question,"  (thinking she might say the Bible, His word,) but instead she pointed to her heart. 

I couldn't have understood it,  nor expressed it better myself.

But back to that saucy thing.

She likes to shake her "bon-bon."  Like her teacher taught her.  At PRESCHOOL.

Please tell me how I'm supposed to refrain from laughing.  Oh, I don't even try.  No, in fact, I ASK her to do this, though in these pictures, and quite often, she doesn't require any asking. 

She shakes it freely.  

Like her mother, Shaun would say... to the pizza man... when the kids run to the door naked. 

Labels: beach, Madalyn, national lampoon family vacations, parenthood, photography, pics, sugar and spice, summer

In a perfect world I would live in a cottage on the beach. 

Okay, I'll keep it real- not a cottage, exactly, but a sizeable house that still FEELS like a cottage.

I would have a chef and a maid who not only clean but do our laundry, and not because they have to, but because they love to do these things like I love to take pictures, (so that we wouldn't be putting anyone out.) 

They would be funny and endearing and trustworthy, like part of the family, (so that they wouldn't be putting us out.)  And they would have beautiful Spanish accents and be of older age.  Because it's my perfect world and I said so.       

The house that looks like a cottage would smell good all the time.  In the morning it would smell like blueberry muffins, at lunch time it would smell like fresh basil and produce, in the afternoon it would smell like pineapple and coconut, and in the evening it would smell like a good roast. 

At sunset it would smell like chocolate.

I would never snap at the kids because my house would smell so good and my laundry was clean, and temper tantrums would be a snap with nothing else to do but cope with temper tantrums. 

We would play on the beach all day, and I would take pictures in the evenings.  Some of the evenings. 

Other evenings I would read, or take long walks with Shaun and have sex on the beach.  (The drink, of course.)  Or as far as you know.

And I would be able to edit every picture just by looking at it.  (Which would mean my need to do all in both color and black and white would not be an issue.)  Oh, and because I would have unlimited storage space that was guaranteed to never become corrupt but last until the end of time, naturally.

Shaun wouldn't have to work.  He would play in the sun with us all day long, and sunburns and skin cancer wouldn't exist.  Neither would sharks. Nor algae nor mildew.  Nor jelly fish.

Only suntans and dolphins.  And minnows. 

And game fish that don't mistake humans for prey.  That would be okay, I guess.  For Uncle Steve's sake.  And Uncle John and Uncle Justin and Grandpa Boonie.  (I'm thoughtful like that.)

Jimmy Buffet and Bob Marley and Brooks and Dunn and The Temptations would fill our house with simple songs through speakers in every room.  And there would be hammocks and rocking chairs and a wrap-around porch, and we would have a guest room or two for anyone who wanted to visit.

Charlie would never pee on the floor.

We would be silly all day long.

And no one would ever grow up.

In a perfect world. 

Labels: beach, dreaming and scheming, national lampoon family vacations, photography, pics, summer

Also titled" "The Reason I Take Way Too Many Pictures and Can't Narrow Them Down More; It's a Sickness."

I like this one for obvious reasons-  she's spunky, she's mean, she's trying to ruin my camera.

But I can't decide if I like black and white or color, so I edit both of each and alternate them on here...

No, you can't see her face.  So why'd I keep it?  Because the water looks kind of like snow and I just can't toss it... okay?  I can't.

I love her tongue stuck out and the mid-sprint.

I love her hands and the reflection of her suit.  And her tush.  Don't you just want to pinch it?  Okay, well I do.

I love her eyelashes and the wisps on her neck, so even though the next one is more ideal, I can't toss this one either.

The one you definitely don't toss.

She was collecting clams all day and asking me to help her and she has chipped polish.

Her wedgie.  She insists on wearing this suit even though it's too small for her.  She LOVES this suit.

The splash.  The splash is the reason this one wasn't trashed.  It's nothing great, I know... but this is precisely my point- I have issues.

The pony tail swinging.  It's too precious, sorry... can't toss it.  Don't ask me to.

The expression. 

The ponytail stuck to her head.

I don't have to explain this one, this one would be kept if I only picked three... (but don't ask me which the other two would be, that would be like Sophie's choice... not because they're all awesome, but because I'm sentimental and- let's say it all together now- "have issues.")

The expression.

The ponytail holder sticking out of the water, curly and pink like a literal pig tail.

Fully submerged... the kick and the motion in the water.  It's a sickness, I know... this one could've been tossed... no, no it couldn't have.

The babyish coordination.  She ALWAYS wipes her hair out of her eyes this way and when it's not in pigtail holders she walks around looking like the Swamp Thing.  It always makes me laugh.  one day she will learn to come up with it smoothed back and I will be sad.  I might cry.

More of above... but I liked the angle and weeds because it shows where we were.  (Don't make fun.  Shut up.)

The light.  I just like the light on her body and the fish on her back... no good reason to keep it, but, well, a sickness doesn't make sense, this is what I'm saying.

She was making a pineapple out of a pinecone.  Chipped polish. 

You can see the grains of sand falling off her feet... even better when it's not downgraded.

So serious.  Drama queen.

Pointed.  More girly than the first foot pic.  I know... totally excessive and does she have another foot, anyway?

The fake smile smirk that she and Evan are so very good at now.  And I haven't even posted the ones of the boys.  Somebody send help.  I am drowning in gigabytes over here.  Throw me a recycle bin, QUICK!

Labels: Illness, Madalyn, photography, pics, pictures, summer

I have been wanting to post this for a while now but just never sat down and took the time.

As most of you know, about a year and a half ago, Katie, my wife, started a photography business.

Understand that when she first approached me with this idea my reasoning for agreeing was based upon a "wellllll...okay" sort of mentality.  I honestly believed that we would spend a lot of money and time and the result would be somewhat of an "eh....".

Wrong.

We started off spending what seemed like a fortune on cameras, equipment, logos, designs, web hosting, etc.  We also purchased Adobe Photoshop which I knew she would never use because she hated it when "blogger" or "Picasa" didn't act right and I usually had to "fix" it. 

Wrong again.

The first few times she sat down with Photoshop I tried to help.  I had some minor knowledge of the application because every now and then my job requires me to do some design work.  I hate design.  I hate it because I am NO GOOD at it.  I can take someone's design and implement it programmatically but that is it.  All of that said, I tried to help her a little.  I thought I knew the 'right' way to work Photoshop.  I thought I knew the 'professional' way to work Photoshop.

All together now... "WRONG."

You see, I have learned a lot about Katie throughout this process.  She's a perfectionist when it comes to her work.  She's creative when it comes to her work.  She's good at her work.  She is an artist of the most unique kind because she made photography her own.  She took the business of photography and it flourished because she made it hers - unique and non-replicable. 

I come from an industry where "patterns and practices" are what everyone follows.  My industry (software engineering) is based upon good standards.  The same goes for many businesses I have seen.  A lot of software engineers, graphic designers, database designers, etc base their success on HOW they did something and HOW they implemented the standard (standard = the 'right' way to do things) that they stopped caring about the result of their work.  In some ways, professionalism becomes more about 'knowing' than about 'doing'. 

Katie did it.

Katie took her gift of photography and made her tools (cameras, software, etc) adhere to that gift.  She didn't conform to the standard and she was wildly successful.  I mean, I truly didn't believe she'd make a profit.  I planned our finances around that belief.  She made Photoshop her own.  She made art with a very advanced tool.  Art is not a standard.

Katie took pictures on the weekends and edited on the weekday nights.  She spent the days with the kids being a mom (which she told me yesterday she "loves being a mom more than anything else").  She became so busy and so popular that we had to slow things down and start turning clients away.  To this day I am amazed.

The response she received was incredible.  She never advertised; yet, within a few months she was booking clients 6 months or more into the future.  She was asked to present her material at a booth for the employees of David Maus Toyota (David Maus Jr. hit on her but that's a story for a different time).  She filled a 1 terabyte hard drive (that's 1000 gigabytes for those of you in Ocala) with client's photos.  I started getting really nervous about taxes because I hadn't planned for this at all (even after costs and write-offs How I Wonder Photography still owed Uncle Sam his part).  Again, she was wildly successful beyond what I could have imagined.

All of this goes to say how respectfully proud I am of Katie for being the best wife, mother and business-owner I have ever known.

Labels: business, How I Wonder, Katie, photography, pictures, technology

...I promise!

This kid...

is so boring.  Has absolutely NO personality.  I don't think I can take her monotone, unanimated stories any longer.  We simply can't have her over again.  YAWN...

Okay, kids.  Get yourselves organized.  When I say jump, you say how high?  JUMP!      

How high?

Well, so much for the "organized" part, but not too bad for a bunch of white kids.  Except for the one in the middle.  She's a real melon.

The Chef, of course, (who is has chosen a cooking party for his next birthday celebration.)

Can't get enuff of your love, bay-baaay... 

Look at them, are they excited or WHAT?  No wonder the kids weren't so sure about the whole sparkler thing at first.  You'd think they were washing the car or walking the dog or... sleeping, maybe...

Someone should tell that woman it is perdy tacky to leave your bra straps hangin' out like that and the cute baby in the picture doesn't negate the fact.

Oh look, she also talks while having her picture taken.  Well, the babe is almost cute enough in this shot to negate the fact.  Because he's cuddly.

Popper thingamabobs.  Caution: do not give to children who have not yet developed large motor skills.

Love how they're covering their ears, but the bra straps, geez, lady, the bra staps!  Get 'em under control.

It was difficult to not offend their fathers with their constant "Oh look at that one of there!  That one's REALLY big."  I wish those were my parents, that dad really has his game on.

But they humored their measly fathers much as they could. When the other shows were between bangs.  What do you think they are?  heartless? 

Labels: friends, Guests, photography, pics, pictures

Two peas in a pod.  (Okay, okay, a SANDBOX.)  With no sand.

That smirk means trouble

I knew it!  Trouble.  One bat, two toddlers... you do the math.

Where is your father, little boy?  Somebody should teach you how to act.

Heartbroken.  Just heartbroken, look at him!  Where is that blonde kid's parents, already?

Interestingly enough, if you make that blonde kid share, if you nicely ask, "Jack, will you share the bat with Caleb?"  He will willingly share with a smile on his face.  But because he is the youngest, he is NOT COOL with having things ripped out of his hand.  He was NOT gonna let that happen.  No way, no how.  It's an unfortunate thing, birth order.

Oh good, they're kissing and making up...

Well, the nice one's kissing, the blonde kid is just receiving.  Typical.

A little bit of parallel play, that's good, work it out, boys.

Now that no one's looking, Goldilocks is gonna pay for what he done...

Whatever happened to these days?

Labels: boys will be boys, friends, humor, Jack, photography, pics, pictures

Ahhh, young love.  A tight embrace.  So tight that the boy's head might pop off.

But it wasn't enough-  she felt she must hold on tighter still

He had no complaints

How could he?  She was a delight, swept him off his feet

So swiftly and passionately that his shoe was left behind

She was six months younger than him, but mature for her age

which became blatantly obvious when he tried to reciprocate his love-

only did not yet have the understanding of physics that she had, and grabbing her entirely too high up to lift her well,

took on much more of an endeavor than he had set out to take on

Still, he knew what to do, and pulling her feet off the ground (with her bending her knees to help,) he let out a fierce, Last of the Mohicans roar from deep in his warrior spirit. 

It's all the more instinctual, animalistic, and testosterone-filled when viewed in black and white... hear the lion growl as if in slow-motion.

(Disclaimer: I swear I do not read romance novels, although a friend gave me one in high school to read and about the time I got to the part where the Viking warrior returned, when certain body parts were compared to certain metals, my mom swept in to the rescue and explained that such books were to some women what Playboy was to some men.  That was the end of that.  The above is narrated in the voice of a narrator off of National Geographic, please read accordingly.  Thank you.)

Labels: boys will be boys, Evan, friends, milestones, photography, pics, pictures, summer

Which one do you lean towards? I'm not sure which one I will order for his album... he's growing so fast. He's the worst toddler I've raised, into ev-e-ry-thing. He doesn't play with toys- Evan's matchbox cars while making soft 'voom' sounds, that's it. He much prefers his daddy's drawer of electronics, or my drawer of make-up to the piles of toys we have lying around here. He prefers countertops to floors, toilet water to his sippy cup. Says 'nah' for yes. Whines when you turn off the bath water. Whines when you say 'no'. Whines when the music's not on in the car, when the window's not down, when the d.j. changes the song on the radio. Rubs mascara into our carpets and peanut butter onto our couch. Takes his diaper off five times a day...

but look at that face. I love him. xoxoxo

Labels: Jack, photography

Labels: business, photography

Labels: photography