DSC_0009

I’ve been into photography most of my adult life. But I’ve been one of those photographers who couldn’t afford the craft. I have a drawer-ful of unprocessed film from my years with a basic student Pentax SLR film camera, a gift from my grandmother when I graduated junior college. I have negatives from my photojournalism classes that showed I had a talent for getting good photos.

Allen surprised me tonight. An early Christmas gift, something we’ve been debating for months. Years. Can we afford it? No.

Say hello to my new friend, a Nikon D50. If you know me, you’ll probably become quite intimate with this camera. I do love doing portraits!

Of course, I’ve already gotten a bit too intimate with this camera. But THOSE photos won’t be seen HERE. The first thing I did was snap some shots of the husband (obligatory! Just kidding, love of my life!). Then the dog. And then, running out of awake subjects (it’s rather late), I had to take some nipple shots and pics of other taboo regions that don’t see the light of day unless your first name begins with Britney. But you don’t get to see these unless you belong to some pretty wild amateur porn websites. And we know NO ONE really has a membership with any of THOSE pervs.

Anyway, many thanks to the husband for supporting my love of photography. Please no jibes about the paying for two mortgages right now, or he’ll reconsider. And he’ll have some trouble prying this baby out of my hands.

IMG_4556

Look! It’s the guy who puts the mirth in the mother. Wow does that sound dirty! Here’s looking at you, husband of 8 years, yin to my yowza, cream in my coffay, responsible for half the genetic material that comprises the li’l mirthlings. I adore you!

The first tree we trimmed together was actually a potted pine plant at my Mom’s house. It had 8 branches on it and was about 3 feet high. It was the saddest, droopiest, ugliest tree ever, and we loaded it with bulbs and tinsel until it looked like an 84-year-old painted hooker.

Ah. Good times. Thanks for sticking by me, hon!

I have changed my paradigm again. I am a blue-blood yankee, dragged to Florida at the tender age of 10 and forced to integrate with people of all social classes and races (in my hometown, where I was dragged from, there wasn’t a lot of diversity of social classes or race). Then, three years ago, my husband and I moved back to the North. I, as expected, took to the major change quite easily and gleefully. Duck —> water. My husband, not so much. Finances forced us out of the area, and here we are, back in the South. North Carolina may have “north” as part of its name, but it couldn’t be more southern here.

So here I go again, trying to find the ground again, figure out how to put roots in here. I know it’s better for our family, for the kids. Better job atmosphere for Allen, milder climate. No shoveling snow. More affordable housing, etc. The list is long on the plus side. And it’s damn beautiful here.

My brain knows this move was the right choice. I just need to convince the rest of me.

Laurel with Bubble

Taken at the Marblehead (Mass.) Arts Festival, July 4, 2006.

Espresso in the coffeemaker. Too much espresso in the filter is JUST enough. Mmmmmm. *perk*

Nevetheless, it’s not like we’re skipping the tantrum stage. Although she can communicate her wishes quite well, I’m not the fairy godmother of toddlers, able or willing to pull cookies out of my ass when we’re in the middle of the grocery store. Likewise, I can’t seem to make Laurel understand the concept of “waiting” for something she wants. And she’s so very stubborn! Since she’s able to make her wants known, and since she knows I can understand her, she expects want fulfillment immediately; the funny thing is, she’s not terribly demanding. She rarely gets worked up over something and is usually happy with sucking on her fingers and playing with whatever toy I can keep Kelsey from taking from her. But when Laurel desperately wants something and doesn’t get it, she has her tantrum, throwing herself on the floor or flinging a toy and screaming like a banshee. I look forward to her emotional maturity catching up with her verbal skills! In the meantime, I’m loving the fact that I can communicate with both of my kids finally!

We spent Labor Day relaxing after a long drive from Pensacola the previous evening with an upset Kelsey. She was fine on the way to visit her grandparents, 9 hours away. But on the return trip, I figure Kelsey decided she’d had enough of being strapped into a car seat. We had a good visit though.

Kelsey’s vocabulary has grown a little. She says “ma ma ma” now, as well as “ba ba ba.” She still doesn’t have any point of reference for these sounds, although I get ecstatic and do a little dance when she says “ma ma” to me. Before sleep, Kelsey breaks into a litany of “ba ba ba’s” followed by raspberries. The spit flies! She then rolls side to side like a crazed little monkey, arms and legs flailing wildly.

posted by terry @ 12:02 PM

Today is my mother’s birthday, and I wish Kelsey and I could be there to help her blow out all those candles (and help eat the cake!) Happy Birthday, Mom. Thanks for showing me how to be a good mother. I’m doing my best!

Kelsey had her 4-month check up today. She’s now 18 lbs, 2 oz, and she is 27 1/2 inches long. Her eyes are a beautiful shade of blue. She’s gorgeous. I might be biased. She had her immunizations today, and she stopped crying as soon as the fourth shot was administered and hasn’t fussed since. I’m still crying, though! It’s one thing to deal with a sick baby, as sickness hits unexpectedly. It’s another to sign your baby up for pain, prepare her for it, hold her while she is being tortured…. Uugh.

posted by terry on 05-Aug-2002 11:12 AM