Don’t Worry

For my grandmother who immediately complained about my love of macro possibly decreasing the quantity of photos of my child.

This is what that same child chose to wear yesterday in order to check the mail. It was 80+ degrees.

Macro

I have a confession to make.

I have a new love.

Truthfully it’s an old flame that has been rekindled.

Who cares about semantics.

Back to the topic.

I love macro photography.

You may never see anything else from me again.

That is, once I buy a macro lens.

I took these holding my prime lens backwards in front of my camera.

Cheap? Yes.

Satisfying? Yes.

Easy? Nope.

So if you happen to have a macro lens recommendation (for Canon) please let me know.

Thank you.

Grounded

Yesterday morning I woke up to an email that had a picture of my daughter in it. It was a little surreal.

After being mesmerized by her cuteness, I had a split second of worry that modeling might go to her head.

Then she came out of her room dressed like this:

I stopped worrying about the modeling issue and just started worrying about her future in general.

I then had the privilege to watch as she climbed the tree in the front yard and sat perched completely motionless and silent while a young woman came jogging down our sidewalk.

Abby didn’t move a muscle.

I think she may have been holding her breath.

Until the lady was right beside her.

Then Abby yelled, “HEY! My name is Abby!!!!!”

The lady turned her head, saw Abby in her ensemble, and honest-to-God ran off the sidewalk and into the road.

I was so thankful there were no cars.

I don’t know what it’s like to suddenly see a kid like this perched in a tree three feet away, but I’ve spent a full 24 hours laughing every time I imagine it.

Today we’ll be playing in the back yard.

Runners everywhere may rejoice.

Be still my heart…

This is the cutest little boy ever.

And sometimes he winks at me.

The not-so-natural gymnast

I wish I’d had a camera rolling.

Abby wanted to do some gymnastics so Matt thought he’d help her try a handstand.

Next thing I knew, he was holding her in the air by her feet.

He told her, “Okay, now hold yourself up.”

And what did my child do?

She put her hands under her head and tried to physically lift her body into the air.

No hands on the floor at all.

Matt thought that maybe a headstand against the couch would be a better place to start.

Moments later her head was on the ground, as were her hands, and her feet were resting on the seat of the couch, two feet above her head.

And yet she still managed to scream, “Get me down from here!”

She may be in training for a very, very long time.

Hanging Out A Shingle

My husband is pretty amazing. He’s probably the handiest guy I know. Seriously. He has replaced the brakes on our cars, refinished our hardwood floors, installed crown moulding, repaired antique furniture, resurfaced kitchen countertops, and completely rebuilt the back room of our house from the ground (literally) up.

But his talent goes beyond physical labor.

One of the first things he gave me when we were dating was a painting of his. I honestly didn’t believe he’d painted it. (I can’t draw a stick figure so I’m always a little skeptical and in awe of people who can!) But he had. And he continues to cover our walls with his art.

After years of just “playing around” and “it’s not that big of a deal” he’s moving forward with his very natural and obvious talent.

Here are a few of his recent works:

If you might be interested in commissioning a painting for your own home or as a gift for someone else, send me an email or leave a comment and I’ll get you more information. Styles, colors and canvas sizes are all customizable. Shipping to anywhere in the U.S. is available.

Christmas Past

I was sorting through old photos today and came across these from last year’s attempt at a nice holiday shot of our little family.

Ha! As if that were possible.

We ended up with a picture that wasn’t completely horrendous, but I saved these two as reminders that:

1. I really will survive when this year’s photo shoot falls into the unavoidable and yet still completely irrational meltdown mode.

2. Sometimes my child screams for no reason. It is not a figment of my imagination.

3. One day she will not be small enough for me to squeeze her until she smiles.

4. If I ever write a parenting book or a compilation of dark brooding poetry, I want these on the dust jacket.

Six Minutes

Watch this.

It’ll only take six minutes.

But it might change a million future ones.

If you’re interested in the rest of Matt’s sermon that is the clip at the beginning of the video, you can go here to hear it:

Three Streams

Why Not?

Jon Acuff has offered up a challenge today on his blog-  Stuff Christians Like.

Read it, participate, save a life.

Or ten.

Or twenty.

Why not?

If you’re reading this, you most likely know me personally. If I called you up and told you that I needed $10 to live- not to live extravagantly, but to actually stay alive– I’m guessing you’d be able and willing to help me out.

I think sometimes we don’t help those we can’t see or hear simply because we’re not forced to witness the repercussions of our apathy.

Go take Jon’s challenge.

I bet you can find a way to help at least one person.

Sweetness

Recently my little girl came home from a photo shoot wearing mascara.

I didn’t handle it very well.

So today I took a few new photos (sans makeup) to prove to myself that she’s still little.

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I didn’t handle the results of those very well either.