Guess what happens...

When you totally abandon your blog? It gets spammed up the YANG!! I guess that's what I get. Maybe I should post more? I feel like Facebook has taken over my "sharing what's going on with my family" internet life. If I share here, I'll share there just the same, so why post it twice? Does anyone even read this blog anymore? I guess we'll see. Here's a fun picture, because I. Just. Can't. Post without a picture.

Walmart Clientele Sucks

While dinking around on the Internet last night - I came across this little gem on CNN.com.

• "Roger Stephens, 61, was arrested Monday and charged with first-degree cruelty to children. An incident report obtained from police in Gwinnett County indicated Stephens did not know the 2-year-old girl he stands accused of hitting. The confrontation happened shortly before noon at the Walmart in Stone Mountain, a suburb of Atlanta. According to the arresting officer, the child's mother said her daughter was crying as they walked down one of the aisles. The mother said a stranger later identified as Stephens approached them and said: "If you don't shut the baby up, I will shut her up for you."
  A few moments later, while the mother and the crying child were in another aisle, Stephens allegedly grabbed the girl and slapped her across the face. Police said he hit her four or five times. "See, I told you I would shut her up," the suspect allegedly told the mother. Authorities described "slight redness" to the toddler's face. Before he was arrested, Stephens apologized to the mother for striking the girl, the incident report said."
  

Here's the thing. We've all been to Walmart and heard a screaming toddler. We've all been to Walmart and heard a screaming parent. You know what I'm talking about. It usually goes something like this:

"Billy! You stop it. You stop screaming right now or else I'm not going to give you Cheetos and Kool-Aid for dinner! If you don't stop it, I'm gonna feed you vegetables. VEGETABLES!!! Did you hear me? Healthy food!!"

And then after that she shouts:

"Now take your two year old butt and go get Mama some Busch Ice like I told you to!"

Then she shakes her head in exasperation and mumbles to herself:

"When is your Daddy gonna get outta jail???...(pause)... I hope he's your daddy...we'll find out on Maury next month."

I swear, I hear this conversation every time I enter the automatic doors of Walmart. I know what I'm getting myself into. And I know that I not only think about tsk-tsking the screaming toddler - I think about slapping the screaming parent silly. The thought just tickles me from the inside out. But here's the deal, yo.

It's none of my business. When I see this type of occurrence, I just keep walking. I hold my head high. And silently judge. That's what normal people do, right? In that moment, I'm just grateful it's not my toddler who's not having the meltdown. Cause that's happened too. Many a time.

Here's what gets me. This man (he looks just evil, right?) took it upon himself to correct someone else's child - and not only that - he did it by slapping her in the face 4 to 5 times. The little girl is two. And it was close to nap time. Now I'm not blaming the mom for the screaming child here, but...okay, I'm blaming the mom. If you take your two year old in public during naptime - it's never going to be pretty. But I understand. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, and if that means bringing along a tired toddler, then...

I tried to put myself in that mother's shoes (whether they be Jimmy Choo or Faded Glory) and I can honestly tell you that although I would like to think that I would react in a mature and calm matter...I'm certian that would not have happened. I would have gone all sorts of Chris Brown on his hiney...I'm just sayin'.

...it sounds really tough when I say hiney, huh?

It's not a dream...I'm actually updating my blog.

I know I haven't posted in a while, and I want to assure you all that we are alive and well. There has been lots going on, so I'm finding it to be a wee bit difficult making the time to sit down at the computer to document it all. These three children of mine are always demanding something out of me. And how dare they? Can't they just dress/feed/clean/entertain themselves?........ No?......Not so much?......Okay, then.

Andrew and Alivia just got back from spending a whole week in Alaska with my BFF Trudy. She flew down to Seattle, picked them up at the airport and flew back to Cold Frontier...where it was 85 degrees the entire time. We packed mostly jeans and long sleeved shirts for them - and a couple pairs of shorts just in case....and Trudy ended up having to do laundry every day to keep up with the warm weather. They had a BLAST up there and you can read all about it here on Trudy's blog.

Amelia turned ONE!!! We had a small party with just the family here and Amelia got her first taste of cake....that is if she has taste buds in her hair. She went to town on that thing, making a huge mess - and loved every minute of it. Happy Birthday Baby Girl!

Vote for meeeeee!

I know, I know....it's pathetic. BUT - I could win a 12x12 canvas of Amelia. I entered this image of her in a contest and I was chosen as one of 12 nominees. Cool, right? The winner is based on the most votes, so I'm doing what they told us to do and I'm begging, begggggggin' for you to go vote for my shot. Please, oh pretty, pretty please?

Here's the link:
You don't have to sign up or anything, just go vote for #11 - "Bright Eyes"

Do it, and I'll love you forever and ever and ever. This I promise you.

Mother's day at the Zoo

I had the best mother's day yesterday! Jason was super sweet, he let me plan the whole day out - it's was a "let's do whatever you want" day. I L-O-V-E those days. He made the family breakfast. He even did some laundry, guys.....laundry. He totally scored good husband points. We went downtown to Glazers....my own personal heaven. I freaking love that store. I could move in there. It's full of a bunch of photography stuff and the nicest bunch of photography geeks (just like me) you'd ever meet. I love that they get excited for me because I'm so excited about my latest purchase. I love them. Each and every one of them.

It's like coming home to the mothership.

After picking up a new 15mm fisheye lens - it was off to the zoo we went! And crazy busy doesn't even begin how insane it was there. Because apparently it was everybody's idea to go to the zoo too. We even ran into some of our friends that Jason went to college with who we haven't seen in more than 5 or 6 years! Jason was so excited I thought start jumping up and down an clapping like cheerleader! Good to see you Rawls family! We were at the zoo for a total of 6 hours. And by the time it was over, I was so exhausted, I literally fell asleep in the car on the way home.


That gave me the second wind I was looking for and I was able to edit some of the fun pictures from yesterday. So here they are - enjoy!

Who's a big girl? Whooooo's a big girl???

April 2005

April 2006

April 2007

April 2008

April 2009

My sweet baby girl turned 4 last week! And as a way to celebrate her embarking on a new year of life, I decided to interview her. These are her raw, uncensored truths. And the wise old age of 4. Just wait until you get to the last question. Brilliance! Sheer brilliance. And without further adieu...

Me: What is something mom always says to you?
Alivia: You love me.

(true)

Me: What makes Mama happy?
Alivia: We bake cookies together.

(well, eating the dough makes me happy...)

Me: What makes mom sad?
Alivia: Not baking cookies.

(that does weigh heavily on my mind at times)

Me: How does your mom make you laugh?
Alivia: Tickle me.

(straight up Elmo style)

Me: Who are your mom’s best friends?
Alivia: Me and Andrew

(she's so modest)

Me: How old is your mom?
Alivia: 21

(I deposited $100 in her bank account just now. Because she said that.)

Me: How tall is your mom?
Alivia: 60 inches

(um, yeah. She’s pretty darn close. I’m actually 62 inches)

Me: What is Mom’s favorite thing to do?
Alivia: Bake cookies.

(Again, it's not so much the baking as the eating of the dough that I enjoy.)

Me: What does your mom do when you’re not around?
Alivia: Play hide and go seek.

(How did she know?!?)

Me: If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Alivia: Me

(Again. With the modesty.)

Me: What is your mom really good at?
Alivia: Baking cookies.

(All I care about is eating the dough, Alivia. How have you not seen this by now?)

Me: What is your mom not very good at?
Alivia: Making funny faces.

(She's wrong. Dead wrong. Here's the proof)

Me: What does your mom do for her job?
Alivia: Work on the computer.

(Yes, that's true.)

Me: What is your mom’s favorite food?
Alivia: Hot bread!

(Dang, this girl is smart! I love hot bread!!!)

Me: What makes you proud of your mom?
Alivia: Baking cookies.

(Liv. Pay close attention. I don't bake. I eat. The dough.)

Me: Who is your mom’s favorite cartoon character?
Alivia: Archuleta

(I don't even know what to say in response to that. As in David? And in that case, how does she even know about him? Someone get back to me on that.)

Me: What do you and your mom do together?
Alivia: Fall in love.

(We need to have a serious talk about boundaries.)

Me: How are you and your mom the same?
Alivia: Wearing shirts.

(Yup. We are both wearing shirts! Great observation!)

Me: How are you and your mom different?
Alivia: Not wearing the same shirts.

(Yes, they are different shirts! And thank God for that, because your shirt is from the Supercross....and that's not really my thing, per se...)

Me: How do you know your mom loves you?
Alivia: Hugging.

(Awwww...)

Me: Where is your mom’s favorite place to go?
Alivia: Jalapeño Mexican Restaurant and Alfie’s.

(Wrong and barf.)

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Alivia: An ambulance.

(Good luck with that, Alivia. I am here to support you in whatever way I can.)

Happy Birthday Baby Girl!!! I love you lots and lots and I'm super proud of you. Hey, I have an idea....let's make cookies together!

Ellen Pranks Starbucks Customers

I don't know if you all have seen this, but it may be my new favorite thing ever. Ellen plants an earpiece on a Starbucks employee and this (unbelievably amazing) employee has to say whatever Ellen tells her to say. How this girl keeps a straight face is beyond me...cause I was in tears.....tears, I tell you.

Man, I love Ellen. This is gold.....pure gold.

New Blog

Go check out my new fancy blog for The Portrait Place! I decided it was time for an upgrade, so I went a head hired a rad guy named Jared to help me out! And don't forget to update your bookmarks! Why do I keep adding exclamation marks to the end of all my sentences!?!

http://www.theportraitplaceweb.com/blog/

Fun Love

So I just ran across this cute program that lets you put together one of the cute little collages - in different shapes and it takes mere minutes - and the best part? It's free. I like free things. Alot. And I like you. So here you go!

This was my trial run with this program - just grabbed my client folder and used some of my favorite latest images. And you know what I found out by creating this? I take pictures of a lot of newborns. And somehow I never feel like it's enough. I always want more!!! I want more newborn babies!!!!! Just to photograph. Not to birth and then raise. I've already had my fill of those :)

Yep, you're right. I don't work.

Today I went to Starbucks to get my morning iced venti americano with vanilla and cream. I do this every weekday morning - it's part of my routine. I roll out of bed, put on a sweatshirt and slippers and pull my hair back into a really pretty messy pony. I load up the kiddos, drop Andrew off at school and head straight to the Starbucks drive-thru. I do this every morning. The lovely girls there know what I drink. They know my name. They know I do this every morning.

Disclaimer: The only reason I leave the house looking like I do in the morning is because I know I'm not actually getting out of the car. I am fully aware of my hot-mess status, but I don't care because I haven't had my coffee yet, therefore I am still partially asleep. And not ready to accept the fact that it's morning. If I actually had to get out of the car, I promise, a shower would be mandatory.

Okay, back to this morning. I pull up to the drive through, order my coffee at the little speaker box thingy and pull on up to the window. There is this older lady who works there - and she's nice. Fake, but nice. I'm gonna call her Marci. She's always pleasant, always chattin' in her raspy voice but I can tell that she can't be trusted. She's so plastic, it ain't even funny. But I don't care - as long as I get my coffee. It's all good in the hood.

Until today.

I pull up to the window. Marci greets me with her usual super fake smile. It looks like this:Marci: "Hi, hon. How you doin' this morning?"

Me: "Good, how are you?"

Marci (dripping with fakeness): "So super-dee-douper, hon! Thanks for asking. You headed to work this morning?"

I just blinked. And blinked some more. Was she insulting me? I think she was insulting me. Clearly I'm not heading to work. Unless my job was begging on the side of the freeway. And even then I think I'd try to dress up a bit more.

So I just laughed nervously while I gave myself a quick once over.......Awkward.

Me: "Uh......no."

Marci (slaps herself on her forehead with the palm of her hand): "Doh! That's right, hon! You don't work. You have two kids right?"

And now this is where I get pissed. I hate that. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate it when people say that being a stay-at-home-mom isn't work. And usually, I only hear that from old guys who've been around since women were being dragged into caves by their hair. I can (begrudgingly) understand those old farts. They aren't gonna change their way of thinking. And who cares, really. They'll probably be dead within the month anyways. Buh-bye.

But I don't usually hear it from women. Especially women who are old enough to have grandchildren. Now, this here's a guess, but I think this woman probably had children in her day. Because she certainly didn't decide against children so she could follow her career path. She serves coffee at Starbucks, for crying out loud! Nothing wrong with it - but it's sort of an entry level job.

I'm mad. I'm irritated. But I'm trying to smile, because it's the nice thing to do. And I don't want to get crappy coffee on Monday. I depend on that coffee. It's actually a slight addiction. I think I looked something like this:

Me: "Yeah, I have 3 kids. It's 3........not 2......3......kids......And they keep me busy enough, so......."

Marci (stares blankly): "....(blink, blink)........Well, alrighty then. You have a super duper day."

And with, that she slams the window shut.

Me: "Oh, yeah and I also have a business. See, I'm a photographer. I take pictures for people. That also takes up a lot of my time. It's crazy - being a stay-at-home-mom and a work-at-home-mom. I'm so busy I don't even know what to do with myself sometimes. I'm either cleaning floors, or scrubbing counters, or sucking bugars, or doing laundry, or wiping butts, or - oh, yeah and in between I take phone calls from clients and hope to GOD that one of my three, not two, three children doesn't "act up" while I'm trying my best to "sound all professional." Then I cook for those little children - and it's never what they want. No sir! If I make chicken nuggets, they want waffles. Waffles! Even though they just asked for chicken nuggets, they want WAFFLES!!!! I do all those things. And then some. I do a lot. I work. I work plenty! And I'm worn out at the end of the day - because I work all day, every day. I don't ever stop working. I work in my sleep! I work, I work, I work!!!!!"

By the time I was done saying all those things, I realized I'd driven all the way home and was just sitting in my driveway. Talking to myself.

Nice.

I look back at Alivia - and she's just staring at me.

Alivia: "Mooooooooooom?"

Me: "(sigh)......Yes, Liv?"

Alivia: "Can I have waffles?"

I'm NOT part dog!

My kids like to chew on things. But Andrew is by far the worst about it. He has been chewing on anything he could get his hands on, well....from the time he could get his hands on it. When he was three, I was getting really fed up with it, so I went online looking for some parenting advice. I read on some parent forum that if you have a child who likes to chew on things, the solution is to go buy a new rubber doggy chew toy, and give it to them to gnaw on. I thought that was sheer brilliance! So, off I went to Petco, got a good solid chew toy and took it home and ran it through the dishwasher. Then I presented it to him and explained that while it wasn't okay to chew on his clothes or toys, it was okay to chew on this. He seemed intrigued! He took the toy, looked it over, gave it a few good chews, looked at it again and tossed it on the floor, obviously quite unimpressed. Then the dog, as if he'd been waiting for it, quickly snatched the toy off the floor, ran out to the backyard and buried it.

So much for that bright idea.

Well, now Andrew is 7. Four years has gone by since the dog toy incident and I'd like to tell you that he doesn't chew on his things any longer, but unfortunately that would be a lie. He still chews on his sleeves, the collar of his shirts, his Lego's, the Nintendo DS stylus, and most recently he chewed a button of the cable box remote. A flipping button off the remote!

Last night I was going around my house gathering up dirty laundry. I walked into my bedroom where I found one of Andrew's socks. It was soaking wet and I could tell by the look of that thing that he had chewed his way through that sock. And it was sitting on my carpet. Full of slobber.

Me: "ANDREW!!!! Get in here!"

Andrew: "Yeah, Mom?"

Me: "What did you do to that sock?"

He looks down in shame.

Andrew: "I chewed on it."

Me: "Well pick it up, take it to the laundry room and put it in the whites basket. I don't even wanna touch that thing. That is so gross! And why are you still chewing on things? When are you going to outgrow this? I swear, you're part dog!"

I walked past him and went downstairs. A few minutes later, Alivia came up to me carrying a note. (I love how he totally gets her to do his dirty work.)

Alivia: "Dis is fwom Andrew."

I took it out of her hand and walked over to the counter where he was sitting and started reading it out loud. This is what it said:

Page 1
1. I don't chew on bones.
2. I am not as hairy as a dog.
3. I don't chew on toys.
4. I don't eat dog food.
5. I don't walk on four legs.
6. I don't have pahs.
7. I don't have a big nose.
8. I don't bark!
9. I don't have sharp clahs.
10. I don't try and climb walls.
11. I am not black, brown or white.
12. I don't cach a ball with my mouth.
13. I don't drink water with my tonge.
14. I don't live outside or in a dog house.
15. I don't sleep on the flor.
16. I don't beg.
17. I am not part DOG!

Page 2
It breaks my heart that you say that I am part dog when I am not.

I couldn't stop laughing. He was sitting at the counter, and I could tell that he was trying to be mad at me, but he couldn't help but start laughing with me.

Me: "Well, Andrew, you've proved some very good points here. I think based on this evidence, I have no choice but to retract my statement and confirm that you are indeed NOT part dog."

Then I apologized for hurting his feelings. I explained that it was just a figure of speech and that it was impossible for any human to be part dog.

And thank goodness....he decided to forgive me.

Happy VD

...as in Valentine's Day. What else did you think I meant?

I wanted to post some pictures of the kids I took today. This blog is called "The Silva Family" after all. It's not just "Alecia's Really Important Opinion of The Bachelor." I mean, I really like that name, but I chose to go with the other because ARIOOTB is just way too long.


Amelia - 7.5 months

She's currently rolling around the living room. I put her down and walk away and 2 minutes later, she's across the room - and usually having a little fit because she can't get a hold of some toy she really, really wants. I don't know if it's because she's the 3rd child - therefore feeling the need to be overly obnoxious to make sure her needs get met - or - if she's just really spirited. Make no mistake. If she has a question, concern, comment, consideration or complaint - she makes it known. Quite loudly. But I can't help but kiss her chubby cheeks every chance I get. And she eats it up. The girl loves to be loved on.

Alivia - 3.5 years

Liv is now in preschool - and doing really well. She's learning all sorts of letters, numbers, shapes and making some little girly friends along the way. She had her first "friend from school" birthday party a couple weeks ago. She was so excited - and I guess she had a blast. Being the excellent mother that I am, I was gone in Omaha and Jason had to escort her to the party. He said she loved it. She's become super affectionate in the last couple months - she must tell me that she loves me 100 times a day. It's just so sweet to hear those words in her little mousy voice.

Andrew - 7 years

My little man. He is also doing very well in the first grade. He still writing all sorts of BeeMan books (which I think is adorable) and he's far ahead of the rest of his class academically. I'm not surprised, though. I mean, hello?? He's related to me. He's also super sweet - giving out hugs and compliments left and right. That little guy figured out a long time ago how to butter me up, and it works. I know what he's doing, but I don't care. I just eat up all those sweet words like a fat kid eats a cupcake. However, he's completely over me taking his picture. He's had enough. But I still force him. And look at my stunning results! Doesn't that look just scream "I'm thrilled, Mom! Please, take my picture again. In fact - I think I'd like to become America's next top model!!!"

Oh shut your pie hole. They had a guy on last season. He just dressed like a girl.

Wait a minute....

I don't want Andrew to dress like a girl.

That's not what I meant.

I said shut your PIE HOLE!

XOXO

Bee Man Version 11

Andrew is our little writer. For as long as I can remember - (which clearly doesn't go very far back being that the kid is only 7 years old) - he's been coming at me with stacks of paper asking me if I can staple it together for him....cause he made another book!

Well, earlier in the school year, he created his first character book. Bee Man, he called it. Bee Man is a superhero who saves the day fighting Bee Evil and his "eeee-vill" ways. I have no idea what inspired Andrew to create this character, but he's very much a huge part of Andrew's life right now. He writes book after book, he takes them to school and reads them in front of this class. He plays Bee-Man on the playground with his sidekicks Bee Evan (Andrew's BFF) and Bee Jai-Dee (Andrew's little sweetie). Except Jai-Dee doesn't want to play Bee Man very often because she wants to play with her girly friends. So, usually it's just Andrew and Evan. Which Andrew doesn't like very much at all. But I explained to him that most girls their age want to play with other little girls....and it's usually jump-rope or hopscotch, not pretending to be super heroes flying around trying to avoid "giant spatulas."

I'm rambling.

Just before Christmas, I told Andrew that we could "publish" one of his books, and that is exactly what we did! He did all the writing and illustrations - which crack me up! I just purchased the first copy and it should be here within a week. So, if any of you out there want your very own copy of Andrew's first published book - just click on the button below to purchase it. He will earn a couple $$ for each book sold, which will help him purchase more book making supplies.....and by book making supplies, I mean candy.

Okay, maybe a mix of candy and book making supplies.

Alright, I'm not gonna lie. I told him he has to save all his Bee Man money to buy me a diamond necklace.

That's another lie.

But he would be super stoked if anyone acually bought his book.

You never know? He could end up being the next J.K. Rowling. And this first edition could be worth a bagrillion dollars someday...

Yes, that's a real number.

....yet again, another lie.

Sorry.

For all the lying.

Yeah...I did it. Jealous?

My friend Kathy's latest Writer's Workshop post triggered a memory somewhat similar to the one she described.

Here's a little back history:

When I was a kid, my parents took every July off work. During that month, they would drive all over the state visiting family. The summer I was 15, they finally told me that I didn't have to join them, and they took off on their adventure. Leaving my older brother Clinton, and I alone at the house with strict instructions to follow.

1. No friends in the house. (My dad owned guns. Lots and lots of guns. And he didn't want any of our stupid friends getting a hold of them and using them for target practice. Among other things.)


2. Curfew was at 1o:oopm. Sharp. My parents made it clear they would be calling the house each night to make sure we were both home at that time. What they didn't know is that as soon as I talked to them, I was gone for the rest of the night. Unlike me, my older brother followed the rules. Blech!


3. Absolutely no driving the awesome brown 1982 Subaru station wagon - aka The Sube - they left behind. Well, this rule was specifically for me - I didn't have my license yet, but Clinton did. But he had his own truck, so he wouldn't need to drive The Sube anywhere.

And that car was awesome. It looked like this - but it was brown, with a cow herder on the front and (the best part) it had a CB antenna that actually reached heaven. I'm not kidding. You could just flip that radio on and direct connect with God. It usually went something like this:

Me: "Breaker, breaker - Jehovah Jireh, you gotta copy?"

God: "Jehovah Jireh comin' in loud and proud. What's yer 20 (location)? Bring it on back."

Me: "I'm rolling down the BIR - just checking to see if there are any black n' whites (cops) ahead? C'mon."

God: "Nope, it's lookin' like you've gotta clean shot. Go ahead and drop the hammer all the way to 128th."

Me: "Thank you kindly, Big Wheel. Catch you on the flip-flop. Over and out."

That rig was awesome.

Back to the summer of 1993. I was 15, with a learner's permit, passed driver's ed with flying colors (ha, ha Kathy!) and just waiting to turn 16 in a few months. I got up that first morning my parents were gone and saw the keys to The Sube just chillin' on the hook. I knew in that instant what I was going to do. I was going for a joy ride!

So I called up my friend Trudy and asked her what she wanted to do for the day, cause we had wheels and I was coming to get her. She was down, so I hopped in The Sube and turned on the forbidden rap station, cranked it up as high as it would go (which wasn't very high at all - being that the one speaker was the size of a walnut), rolled down the windows and sailed up the long gravel driveway. I still remember that rush when I turned on to the main street - it was awesome! Trudy lived a good 10 miles from me and we rolled back and forth between our houses, friends houses - wherever we wanted to go all week long. Sweet freedom!!

It was a great week - it gave me a taste of what life was going to be like in a few months when I got my license. But as for that week, I knew the fun couldn't last forever. Right before my parents were due to come home, I rolled The Sube down the long gravel driveway returning from it's final trip out. My older brother was outside and as I got out of the car he says to me:

Clinton: "Um, you know that Dad wrote down the mileage before he left, right?"

Me: ...(gulp)..."What?"

Clinton: ...(grins devilishly)... "Yeah. He did this to me a couple of summers ago when I had my learner's permit. He told me after he got home. Buuuut - unlike you, I got props for NOT driving the car anywhere without a license. You're sooooooo busted."

Oh.

Crap.

Me: "Uhhh......no, I'm not. I will, uh......(thinking).....just.......(more thinking)......(Ah ha! I had it!).....drive the car around the neighborhood in reverse to get the mileage back down."

Clinton stares at me blankly. Then he busts out laughing at me!

Clinton: (still laughing) "Good one, idiot! Go ahead and try that and see how it works for ya."

Me: "It doesn't work? But I thought I saw on Ferris Buellers Day Off......"

At this point my stomach starts turning into knots. I knew, I just KNEW my dad was going to kill me. This was by far the worst thing I'd ever done in my entire life - and now that life was about to be over. I was gonna die. Unless......

Me: "You have to tell Mom & Dad that you drove the car to B-Town to get parts for your truck."

Clinton: (starts laughing even harder) "No, I don't!"

Me: (in a tiny voice) "Please?"

Clinton: "Nope."

Me: (whining) "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeese????"

Clinton: (shaking his head) "Uh-uh."

Me: (demanding) "PLEASE!!!"

One thing I know about my brother, he H-A-T-E-S confrontation/conflict. And I had every intention of taking full advantage of that. I see him start to waiver. I see defeat flicker in his eyes. But he wasn't ready yet.

Clinton: (sighs) "No, you did this to yourself."

It's time to pull out the big guns.

Me: (yelling loudly now) "But Dad is going to kill me. You know that! He's going to do anything and everything to make my life a living hell - and then he's gonna beat the crap outta me. He's gonna BEAT ME! And I'm gonna DIE! And you have the power to stop this. And you're just going to let me DIE??? What did I ever do to you?? PLEASE! DON'T! DO! THIS! TO! ME!"

I can see him squirming. He starts to walk away. But I drop down and grab a hold of his leg. He continues to walk away, dragging me though the gravel. He tries to shake me off, but it's no use. I'm not letting go.

Me: (still yelling. teeth clenched.) "C'MON!!"

He stops and scowls at me. He's pissed. And that also means he's gonna give me what I want.

Clinton: "FINE! But you owe me. BIG!"

Me: "Okay, I'll do whatever you want! Just name it - and it's yours. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! I love you!!!"

When my parent's came home, the first thing my dad did was go check the mileage in The Sube. I ran and hid in my room. Waiting.....

Dad: "ALECIA!!!! Get out here, RIGHT NOW!!!"

(gulp)

I saunter out of my room, trying to be all innocent and casual like, but not too casual - because then he might be on to my deceptive ways.

Me: (squeaky voice) "Uh, yeah, Dad?"

Dad (head cocked to the side, his eyes burning into my soul) : "I didn't tell you this, but I wrote down the mileage before I left for our trip. I wanted to test you to see if you'd drive the car. And you put over 100 MILES ON THE CAR WHILE WE WERE GONE!!!"

At this point he's towering over me and his face and big ol' bald head is turning a reddish purple. He's shaking. He's about to lose it. I look down. I can't stand it.

Me: (taking a deep breath) "No, I didn't! I swear it! Clinton was driving the car this week because he was working on his truck and he needed parts from the auto shop. Ask him! I promise!"

And that's exactly what he did. I stood behind my dad while he grilled Clinton about the mileage. I was glaring at Clinton as hard as I could. My eyes were being very clear. They spoke to my brother - they reminded him of the deal we made. They threatened him with conflict should he decide to go back on his word. Lots and lots of loud, obnoxious conflict.

And thank Jehovah Jireh Almighty - he took the blame. And spared my life. He is the reason I am still alive today.

Thank you Bubba!

BTW - I called my dad today to see what year The Sube was, so I could google search a picture of one like it for the blog. Then I told him the truth about what I did all those years ago. He just laughed. A nervous laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

Yet another reason why I love being an adult.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I know, I know - I'm a couple days early, but I figure I won't have time to post this before Christmas. We are soooo ready for Christmas. And by we, I mean me. I've got all the presents wrapped, the kids and I baked Santa some cookies and I even had Andrew and Alivia make some thank you cards to give to Santa. We. Are. Ready.

This here's the card we sent out this year - if you didn't get one, it's because you're not on our super elite mailing list. Sorry! That means you didn't meet our super strict elite mailing list requirements, which are as follows:

1. Send me your mailing address.

See? It's pretty complicated. Soooo.....You can look at it here instead. Merry Christmas everybody!!!

Oooooohhhh, the weather outside is frightful...

It finally hit us. And when it did - it hit big. We got alot of snow yesterday!!! I had plans to take the kids to go see Santa yesterday, but by the time I got the kids ready, I looked outside and my back yard looked like the last frontier in Alaska. So....we stayed home. And I banished the two older kids upstairs with a movie and lots and lots of toys - with strict instructions to not even think about coming downstairs. And then, I wrapped presents for 3.5 hours. I almost finished - but I still have a few more to go. And you betch'er rear end it's all the odd shaped packages that are left sitting on my shelf. Why do I always wait to torture myself till the very end?

Extremely long side note: I would just like to say that Jason (and other men in his position) have the Christmas season pretty easy. Jason hates shopping - but especially during Christmas. He hates the crowds. He hates the sales people who pressure him to buy things he's too nice to say no to. He. Hates. It. And get this - he only has to shop for one - that's right folks - one person. Me. He takes an entire day to shop for me. You see, he needs this entire day so that he can take "beer breaks" between stores - just so he can keep shopping. That's his tradition.

My tradition?

I generate present ideas for every other person on our list - which usually totals around 30 people. Then, I shop for those 30 people - most of which I get done in a Annual One Day Power Christmas Shopping Extravaganza. How do I do that, you ask? It's one of the many perks of being so awesome.

I then wrap those presents for 30 people, and stuff 4 stocking to the brim.

Just so we're clear - let's do a little recap:

Jason - one person to generate ideas, shop and wrap for.

Alecia - 30 people to generate ideas, shop and wrap for.

Yeah, yeah, yeah....he makes the money that pays for those presents....(sigh)...whatever.

Anyways......this morning I was feeling a little bit guilty about not letting the kids go outside to play in the snow yesterday, so first thing this morning I bundled them up and let them hit the back yard. And they did. They ran. They laughed. They made snow angels. They threw snow at our dog. For about 15 minutes. Then they were begging to come inside. But being the photographer mama that I am - I snapped a few pictures of them in the snow. So here you go. They were cute while they lasted!

Awwwww yeah.....it's business time.

I just had to share my new favorite. song. ever. If you are married - heck, even if you're not, enjoy....because....thass right....it's business time.

Look what she can do!

She can do it, yes she can!! Amelia is sitting up! Yeah!!!.....So what if it's only for 30 seconds at a time, propped up with her balled up fists. It still counts, right? I think so..

This is just a quick little update - she's 5 - that's right, 5 months old today. I swear I do not know where the time is going. Poor little girl caught her first cold, and she's really trying to keep her chin up. She'll be smiling, then all of the sudden she'll cough and then just start bawling. I feel so bad for her! And I feel so bad for me, too. She was up 5 - that's right, 5 times last night because of her nasty little cough/cry cycle. And she takes her pacifier for a few seconds before she realizes she can't breathe from her nose, so then she drops it and starts crying all over again. I'm tired. She's tired. Can't we all just go to sleep now?

I did catch her being really sweet this afternoon, so I decided to break out the camera and capture her happy little self - doing her new trick, even if it was just for a few minutes.

7 Years Ago

Seven years ago, my life changed forever. On November 5th at 3:14am, my view of the world shifted in an instant. His very first breath completely transformed my identity. He didn't know it, but he gave me the gift that I treasure most of all. He made me a mama. His mama. And I am so completely honored that God chose me to be Andrew's mother. He really is something else...

When he was born, it took him good 30 seconds or so to take his first breath. They immediately took him off my chest and to the warmer to rub, pat and stimulate that first deep breath out of him. I knew he was alive, he was looking around with those big eyes in shock, blinking at the bright lights. But not breathing. Just looking. And then, after what seemed like an eternity, I heard him cry. And it was the. most. beautiful. sound I ever heard. I just looked at him over in the warmer - and looked at Jason, that "new daddy" pride in his eyes. I looked back and forth, back and forth. Between my two guys. I was so unbelievably happy, we had our son. I was so tired, but I didn't - couldn't - sleep for two days after he was born. I couldn't stop looking at him. Every time I closed my eyes, I just had to open them again to make sure he hadn't disappeared. I felt like he was almost too good to be true. And oh my goodness, I was in love. Butterflies and all. (Andrew loves it when I tell him this part of the story.)

Andrew's first few months of life were pretty tough on me. I quit my job and became a stay at home mom. BIG transition. He was a fussy infant, to put it mildly. He screamed if I wasn't holding him. And it had to be me. Not Daddy. Not Granny. Not Auntie - not anybody else, just me. That wore me out. Big time. And when he cried, I would cry, (chalk that up to being a first time mommy) so I held him. Alot. And we cried together many times in those first few months. But then, right around 4 months old, his disposition suddenly changed overnight. He became the most easy going, happiest little guy you'd ever meet. He would go to anybody and was more than happy about it. He laughed easily (still does) and often. By his first birthday, he was very close to walking and was obsessed with doors. He would just open and close them, over and over and over. He didn't care at all what was inside the door, he just liked making them open and close.

When my little guy turned 2, we had moved to California for the year. We had so much fun there - took that little guy all over the Bay Area. I knew he was smart - he could recognize every letter of the alphabet before his second birthday. He was obsessed with trains. We lived really close to the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) and every time he'd see one go by - he would get all excited, point and yell "FREIN, FREIN!!!!!" He also really liked trucks. And he didn't quite know how to pronounce truck correctly. He replaced the "tr" sound with the "f" sound. That was super fun when we were out in public and he would see a truck, and yell: "Ooooooooh, f*ck! BIG F*CK!!!!!" Needless to say, we got some strange looks from some folks, but a few smiles too. He was becoming more and more independent. He wouldn't cuddle with me to save his life. He was far too busy for that nonsense. So at night, when he was sleeping, I would go into his bedroom, lift him out of his crib and hold him while he slept, just so I could get some cuddle time in with my little man.

By the time Andrew turned 3, I was pregnant with Livie. We had (sadly) moved home from Cali and were back in our house. During his third year - I began to realize just how incredibly stubborn he could be. Potty training him was not easy. He didn't see why he needed to change what he'd been doing his whole life. He was content to poop his pants until the day he died. But finally, with a sticker chart and the promise of Thomas the Tank Engine trains, he caved and decided to officially become a big boy. He also became a big brother for the first time. Before Alivia was born, I spent alot of time talking to him about his role as a big brother. I explained to him what an important job it was to be a big brother. He needed to be gentle with her. He needed to protect his baby sister and keep her safe. I talked to him about my older brother, and how much I love him and how Livia would look up to him just as I look up to his Uncle Clinton. I also told him that he was very special to be because he was my first baby, and my only son. I still tell him that. And if I don't tell him often enough, he'll ask me if it's still true.

When Andrew turned four, he had just started his first year of preschool. I was so insanely proud of him - to see my baby boy in a classroom. With friends and a teacher and the constant projects he worked so hard on. They were so darn cute! But it made me feel a little sad that he was growing up so fast. I'd always looked forward to watching him grow. When he was a newborn, I would just look at him and try to imagine him at the age of 4. What would he look like? What would be his favorite things? What kind of personality would he have? And here he was, four - in the blink of any eye. What happened to my baby? I never expected to mourn. But in a way, I did. He was transforming from a baby into a little boy. But, oh, how he made me proud! He began to learn how to write, and started leaving me love notes. The first one I ever got from his was on his magnadoodle. He figured out pretty quickly that mama can be buttered up with an "I love you" and a "You're so pretty, mama." That year was definitely a transition for me. I was so torn between the sadness I felt from watching my baby disappear and the overabundance of pride I felt about the amazing little boy he was turning into.

When Andrew turned 5, he had just started his 2nd year of preschool. I absolutely loved the school he went to because he learned so much. He was always coming home asking me if I knew about this or that. He just had such a desire to learn, and sometimes he would blow me away with his capability to absorb so much information. He was still just as social, if not more than ever. Andrew made friends wherever we went. Literally. And still, loved to laugh. He definitely inherited my sense of humor.

When Andrew turned 6, he had just started kindergarten. This was a brand new school, and I wondered how he would feel about being in school full time. He went from going to school 3 days a week, for 2.5 hours each day - to school 5 days a week, 6 hours each day. But, the big - huge - deal for him was that he got to ride the school bus. I'll never forget that day when I walked him up to the bus stop for the first time. When the bus started to come around the corner, I thought he was going to explode, he was so excited!! He'd been asking to ride a school bus since he was two, and now, finally it was really happening. I helped him get on the bus, and then stepped back off, and watched my life drive away, in the hands of some woman I'd never met until that moment. I didn't follow the bus, I wouldn't let myself. I told myself this is just the first of many times I was just going to have to let him do it on his own. This is a part of the process. That day, when he got off the bus, he literally ran to me and gave me a huge hug. Then proceeded to tell me all about his day as we walked into the house. I held his little hand in mine and looked down at him chattering away and again my heart swelled with pride.

Now here he is at the age of 7. I swear, he'll be taller than me within the next couple years. I know, I know, that's not saying alot, being that I'm a borderline "little person." But I imagine watching your child outgrow you proves to be quite a shock for any mother. Even for the 5'11" giants I know. (Ahem....kathy....) He started playing soccer this year. I LOVED watching him play! When he scored his first goal, I almost burst with pride. I was on the sidelines screaming and clapping like a blithering idiot. He saw me. And he laughed. He is still very affectionate with me, and I just eat it up. I know the day is coming where it's no longer cool to approach your mama just for a hug, so when he comes to me just to say I love you, I hang on to him just a little bit longer. Just so I can remember through those teenage years, when I have coax a hug or two out of him. Who knows? Maybe he won't change. But most likely, he will. Then maybe I'll sneak into his room and pick him up like I used to when he was one - just to get a hug out of him. There is a part of me that hopes - as hard as I can - that he'll never stop being the way he is now. He is so sweet, sensitive, loving, stubborn, funny, helpful, mischievous, smart and I love him more everyday that goes by.

In the famous words of Robert Munsch:

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."

Laina....this is for you, sister.

Poor Alivia. Kathy came over on Sunday with her girls (Maile and Laina) and well, her girls are shy. Really, really shy. My kids, on the other hand don't understand the concept of shy. So, Alivia was doing her thing, being all up in Laina's grill - and Laina didn't like it. She hadn't "warmed up" to Liv just yet - and Alivia wasn't picking up on her social cues. I've spoken with Liv about it, and she had a response for Laina that she wanted to record on video. This was 100% her idea. I didn't put her up to this at all. And don't accuse me of lying either. I had nothing - I mean, NOTHING to do with this. I'm not lying.

If the first 2-3 words out of Alivia's mouth don't convince Laina to be friends with her, I don't know what will. So, without futher adieu, I present...

Do it...

Today is the day, people. Go. Vote.

Amelia thinks Jill is funny...

...and she's not the only one! Jill IS funny. She is the one person who can make me laugh so hard I can't breathe. When I'm with her, it's like a hardcore abdominal workout. And forget my eye make-up. I don't even know why I put make-up on when I know we're gonna hang out. It's like Tammy Faye Baker after a real good prayer.

Moving on.....Jason started this nasty little rumor that Amelia full on laughed last weekend when I was at the studio. (grrrrrrrrrr...) See, I don't miss anything because I'm a stay-at-home-mom and that is one of my God given rights. I get to see all her firsts.

So to rid myself of this cognitive dissonance, I have convinced myself that my baby's firsts don't actually occur until I've seen it with my own eyes. I will do my best to recreate the so-called "first whatever" and then and only then, do I admit that the particular "first" has occurred.

So, I've been trying very hard to get her to laugh. All day. Every day. All week. And the most I've gotten out of her? A courtesy giggle or grunt. And then a strange look that clearly says: "Stop it, Mama. You're disturbing. And it's not funny."

But then Jill comes over, makes a couple of fart noises and it's all sorts of funny. Enjoy!

Reason #947 Why I Love My Son...

I was so tired last night. It was one of those nights where it was all I could do to make it up the stairs just to get into bed. Just as it was one of those nights, it had been one of those days with the kids. In fact, I sent both Andrew and Alivia to bed at 8pm with no story because - again - they were squabbling. Needless to say, they were not very happy with me. So, at 9pm, I decide to make the climb up the stairs to crawl into bed. I walked in my room, turned on my lamp and this is what I found, from my dear sweet wonderful son who I had just sent to bed with no story.

Page 1:
(In Andrew's phonetically correct spelling, which I love. It cracks me up!)

Mama

I hope you are haveen fun. You and me can go on a date. You are the best mom in the whole wide world! Let's play the wii or make book's or have fun. You have fun. I have fun. Let's do it eney day you want. So... Um... Have fun.

PS. For mama

Page 2:

PSS. From Andrew
PSSS. When we go have fun bring me.
PSSSS. We will have fun dooin fun things.
PSSSSS. Let's make a scrap book and take pickshers.
PSSSSSS. We will have so much fun.
PSSSSSSS. Let's go to the moive theder's and eat popcorn and jreck.(I'm not sure, but I think he's trying to spell drink? And he better be talkin' about soda!)
PSSSSSSSS. We will have so much fun.
PSSSSSSSSS. I love you so much.

Are you kidding me? Could this kid be any sweeter? He really knows how to tug at his mama's heartstrings. I put the letter down and went into his room and gave my big boy a big hug and kiss while he slept. Man, just when I think I couldn't love him anymore, he goes and does something like this.

"My cup runneth over...."

Birdie Pruitt and Romana Calvert. Hope Floats. 1998.

Spotlight Interview

I was recently contacted by another photographer, Tommy Peterson, who requested an interview from me for his blog. I feel completely honored that he would ask me....little 'ol me! We did the interview a few weeks back, and now it's up for the world to see. Go check it out!

Click Here

BeeMan

Andrew has created this super hero persona named BeeMan. He has written three books (40 pages, front and back) about BeeMan and all of his adventures. Andrew will bring these books to me, and ask me to staple them so that he can bring them to school the next day to show his friends. Mostly, BeeMan does a lot of the things that Andrew does during his day, but it's way cooler because it's BeeMan doing it. And BeeMan is awesome! He's always trying to avoid that darned giant spatula! (I think he means fly swatter, but he calls it a spatula.)

Last night was Andrew's parent/teacher conference. I was really excited to hear how he's adjusting to the first grade. I talk to him about it and he's having a great time, but I really curious about his teacher's perspective. I say this because Andrew is........um, chatty? He. Loves. To. Talk. In kindergarten, his teacher said she had to remind Andrew quite often to be quiet. He just has a lot to say. All the time. Even in his sleep. But I digress...

The first thing his teacher said to me is:

"So, I'm sure you're familiar with BeeMan."

I instantly smiled.

Me: "Oh, yes, I'm quite familiar with BeeMan."

I was a bit surprised that she knew about BeeMan.

Teacher: "Did you also know that he's got the entire class writing books about BeeMan?"

Me: "Uhhhhh, no?"

Teacher: "He's been bringing his BeeMan books to school and reading them in front of the class. And now all the other children have been writing their own books about BeeMan. BeeMan has sort of taken our class by storm. I keep telling them that they can write books about things other than BeeMan, but all they want to write about is him."

At this point, I was just laughing. I had no idea that he had started this little trend in his classroom.

Teacher: "I typically don't introduce story writing until later in the year, but all the kids have started doing it early because of Andrew."

Then she went on to say how she taught both second and third grade prior to teaching first grade, and Andrew's books aren't something she'd expect out of the average child in the second or even third grade. She also said that in her 20+ years of teaching, she's never met a child like Andrew.

I told her that I've always felt like he was unique. She agreed, and added:

"Unique, in a good way. I wish I had more time just to sit and talk with him. He's definitely one student I'll be thinking about in 20 years wondering what happened to him. Who knows? Maybe his BeeMan books will be his retirement!"

I walked out of there feeling so incredibly proud of my son. I'm always proud of him, but it really made me feel so good to hear his teacher say such wonderful things about him and confirm that my little guy is frickin' rad!