33 posts tagged “the girl”
Yesterday was Katie's big dance recital. She did great and we were so proud of her and our little neighbor, Miss Kayla.
Here's the little collage I made up from the studio pics I did yesterday morning before we departed for the big show. I apologize for the Tammy Faye/Little Miss Sunshine makeup...I'm not a fan of it, but that's how you have to do it for dance recitals. When she's older, they have to wear fake eyelashes...I'm certain I'll have to hire someone to help me with that when the time comes because I can't even go within two feet of super glue without gluing my fingers together.
Ugh. Why must Vox automatically sharpen pictures? They look so crispy on here...it drives me mad!
First, my sweet, adorable, beautiful nephew, B-Man. He really can't look anymore like my brother, honestly. But I do see quite a bit of his beautiful mama in him, too, so no doubt this kiddo is going to break many a heart...sigh...what I wouldn't give to see this sweet thing and smooch on him, but he's all the way out in Missurah :(
Then, some shots from today of my two knuckleheads...I was practicing shooting on a white background...the goal being to actually get it WHITE straight out of the camera. This is no small feat with a budget lighting setup. Basically, to get the white background white (without lighting it its a putrid shade of gray...), you have to aim at least one (two is better) strobes at it and blow it out (overexpose it). So I aimed my two portable flash units at the white background and used my regular strobe as my main, and by george, I think I got it!!! Could you accomplish this without the lights on the background? Yes, but you'd be spending several hours in Photoshop afterwards...so better to get it right SOOC (straight-out-of-camera). I'll be upgrading my lighting equipment very soon, so in the future this won't be so cantankerous.
So here we have The Boy, currently a.k.a. Hee-Haw or Ozark, because (a) the missing teeth, crazy cowlicks, and numerous freckles bemoan such a moniker, and (b) you have to strap him down and sit on him to put his shoes on most of the time. The Child hates to wear shoes outside, and rips them off the minute he walks in the door. But he is darn cute if I do say so myself...course I'm a bit biased....
And then we have our little diva-in-training, doing her best Hannah Montana poses...
Or so sayeth the Girl yesterday when she was riding her bike without her rear affixed to her seat. She was quite proud of herself, especially since she's only recently begun riding her larger, big-girl bike that her Grandpa got her for Christmas. She's been a bit daunted by the size of the bike (although it fits her quite well) and all the braking options available; two hand brakes and a coaster brake; yet she still prefers to utilize the toes of her sneakers to slow herself down. Lovely.
Yes, such an event should have been cause for a photo op, but I was hanging at the neighbors and didn't have my camera tied around my neck as per usual (I know, shocker!!!). But, frankly, I need a break from the lens. I did a pre-wedding gig for a friend of mine at work whose daughter was wed on Saturday, and then had a newborn shoot with Shawn's cousin's little boy on Tuesday. I've been editing pictures nearly every waking hour. I usually love editing a shoot, but I'd prefer to do it in smaller spurts rather than spending days at a time editing.
I got some awesome images from both opportunities, and I had a lot of fun during both shoots. It would really suck to be in business doing something you didn't love to do, right? Each time I learn so much and gain more confidence and comfort with my abilities. It's very satisfying. I promise I'll post some pics at some point after my eyesight has returned.
In other news, the Boy graduates from preschool tomorrow. Yes, he's only 3, but apparently even if you aren't really leaving the preschool, you still get to graduate and come back. He's really excited about it, and he told me all about their trip to the college gym to rehearse and all the things they would be doing for their graduation. He's at the age where his memory growing, and he's able to recall events that happened the previous night and tell me all about them. It's really nice to be able to ask him "so what did you do today at school" and get more than the perfunctory "I play in the sandbox." (which is his reply regardless if he played in the sandbox that day or not).
So, if I am able to extricate myself from Lightroom/Photoshop hell this weekend, I'll get some pics up of the Party (which was a hit!) and Little Man's "gradjiashun from pweeskool."
To my dearest Katie on her sixth birthday,
I can remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. It was one of the most beautiful days of my entire life. As we drove to the hospital that beautiful, warm and sunny spring morning, I remember the bright fuschia of the azaleas and the delicate pinks and whites of the dogwood trees in full bloom that day. I thought of how blessed we were to be bringing our baby girl into the world that day on such a gorgeous day.
I remember so many details of that day. The loud verberation of your first cries and how I bawled right along with you. The gleam of pride and bewilderment in your daddy's eyes as he feasted his eyes on our big (yes, all 10 lbs., 5 oz. of you) beautiful baby girl. I saw him gaze at you with the same tenderness and love that he had for me, and I knew then that you would have him wrapped around your little finger. And you did...and still do for the most part.
Katie, I don't even think there are words to accurately express what I feel for you and your brother. You especially, because you are my first born, and you are my daughter. There are times when I can't help but stare at you, just overwhelmed by your beauty, your absolute perfection...an almost perfect blend of mine and your father's best features, genetically engineered to perfection. You still take my breath away.
I look at you and see so much of myself, but not just in physical features. I see myself mostly in your sensitivity, your strength, the way you tend to take the lead in many situations with your peers and your brother, your boundless creativity, and your warmth and compassion. You have one of the strongest senses of empathy for other people that I have ever seen in a child, almost to a fault. I see your little idosyncrasies, your crazy little fears and anxieties, and while others may see these things and look at you with grave concern, I see these things and think "yup, that's me." And while I would give nothing more than to have you spared from these little bouts of childhood pain, I know that it's necessary, and I know that because of these things, you're going to grow up to be more resilient, more self-aware, and more compassionate towards others because of your sensitivities.
I could not be more proud of you, my dear daughter. Six years ago today, I was given earthly proof that God exists, and I thank Him every day for all the joy you have brought to my life.
All my love,
Mommy
Manic Birthday Party Mom has officially been laid to rest.
Yes, sorry to disappoint, but Katie's upcoming six year fete will not be the crazed, overthemed/underplanned extravaganza that I have been known for in years past. There will be no erections of the Barbie Dream House in birthday cake. I don't even have any immediate plans for an intricately designed birthday invitation as I have been known for in years past (although that might change this weekend -- I could use a sample for my portfolio, so the effort would be worth it for the business). Nope. This year, per the request of the Queen herself, she wants a simple birthday party at a local indoor playzone (think Little Gym but for bigger kids), where they provide not only all the fun a child can have in a single hour, but all the paper goods, balloons, and even pizza and juice. All I have to show up with is my person, my two chillruns, and enough cupcakes for the brood. Oh, and a #6 candle so she can blow it out.
How will I ever manage to not turn this simple affair into grounds for divorce? Shawn won't know what to do with himself and all the time he'll have to sit and, well, breathe, without my having him run to every candy store on the East Coast to find the exact type and color of gummy fruit slices.
I'm certain I'll manage to overcomplicate matters somehow. Oh yes, favors. Yeah. I'll make that a clusterfuck in no time flat.
I'm so excited that Katie's recital is coming up! June 21st is the date, but we're not sure yet if she'll have the 12 or the 3 p.m. show. Her dance school, Tricia Sloan Dance Center, conducts several shows over the course of a weekend, so we're fortunate in that we don't have to sit at recital for hours on end waiting for her performance, which I hear is the norm many other studios in our area. Her show will probably be about two hours long (not her performance, of course -- that's only like three minutes), and if it is anything like last year's show, we'll all be in for a real treat. Their dance company performances are top notch. It's even more exciting this year because our neighbor's little girl is also in Katie's dance class, so it'll be a neighborhood affair at recital this year.
Saturday they posted pics in the studio and on the studio's website of the various costume choices for the year. Below is a pic of the choice for Katie's dance class. I think it's cute!
Katie seems to think that they're using the blue version of the costume above. I like them both, but the pink/black combo has always been one of my favorites. And yay for me, I don't even have to order new complimentary seamless background paper to do her recital pics. The two rolls I already have are pink and blue, and would compliment either choice very well. I have the white and black backgrounds standing by as well.
I'm equally thrilled about the music choice for their routine this year. It's Rob Thomas' "Little Wonders." Awwwwwww. They're going to look adorable!
Last year, Katie's recital coincided with my graduation from Drexel, so it was quite chaotic making the mad dash from Philadelphia to Southern New Jersey on a hot Saturday afternoon in the height of shore traffic. We made it with only minutes to spare before she had to go on stage. I thought Shawn was going to have a stroke at the wheel with the stress of trying to get us there on time. My sister-in-law, Michelle, who danced throughout her childhood and teenage years and owned a studio of her own in Missouri, was here for graduation and never was I so thankful to have her with us. She managed to get Katie's makeup on in a minivan in stop-and-go bumper-to-bumper traffic. It was hectic, but we made it. It'll be nice this year to not have all that stress on recital day.
Today was Funny Hat Day at Katie's school. They do it as a charity event to benefit the Ronald McDonald House. Every child who wears a funny hat can contribute $ towards the cause. I think it's pretty cool, except that I totally forgot about it until I saw the notice in her folder yesterday afternoon, about an hour before I had to leave for work.
Thinking quickly, I had her get her old Easter hat from last year, and called Hubby (who was on his way home) to stop at the dollar store and grab a couple of bunches of cheap artificial spring flowers. Meanwhile, she and I swiped some plastic Easter eggs from their leftover Easter baskets, and got busy with the hot glue gun. She and I glued the eggs, some pink easter grass and some jellybeans to the top of the hat. I found a little bunny stuffed animal under Jon's bed that morning and safety pinned it to the top. When Dad got home, he finished the hat by hot gluing the flowers to the brim as I dressed for work. Ain't nothing sexier than a man with a hot glue gun and artificial flowers, lemme tell you.
So here is the end result:
The last couple of days, I decided that instead of changing Jon's diaper in his bedroom, or wherever I catch him and wrestle him to the ground, I would start taking him into the bathroom for changes so that he starts making the connection that this is where we take care of our bodily functions. Given that he absolutely refuses to even try to sit on the potty, I thought this would be a little conditioning exercise to maybe perhaps get him more interested in the whole business of potty training. Yes, I am a bit desperate. I'm really trying to restrain myself here, but truth be told, toddler poop is just the worst and I am very anxious for him to be potty trained. Not to the point where I'm ready to force the issue by any means, but I'm willing to try every trick out there just to get him even remotely INTERESTED in the potty.
So this afternoon, he did #2, and so I take him up to the bathroom to clean him up. As I am taking off his pullup by separating the sides, he decides to wiggle around like a fish, causing his pullup to fall and the contents thereof to hit the floor. At the risk of being graphic (as if you expected any less from someone who wants to know if you are a wrapper or a wadder), this particular poo was reminiscent of Brach's Bridge Mix candy (hey, I warned you). Think chocolate covered nuts and raisins of varying shapes and diameters all over the floor. We lovingly refer to these types of BM's as "poopy nuggets." So I'm all "DON'T MOVE!!! STAND RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!! YOU'RE GOING TO STEP IN THE POOPY!!!" And he, of course, is just so proud of himself and having spilled the contents of his pullup onto the floor. So he's cracking up and shrieking at the same time.
Wondering what all the commotion was about, Katie comes wandering in and stops dead in her tracks and shrieks at the sight of all the little turdballs all over the bathroom rug. She's standing in the doorway, totally grossed out, while I'm using wadded up TP to try to pick up the poopy nuggets. At that moment, I remembered that I had a stack of clear plastic foodservice gloves that I keep in one of the vanity drawers for coloring hair, so I asked Katie to fetch me one. She stooped down to find one in the drawer, then handed it over and I donned it and began picking up the poo balls.
As I cleaned up the rug, Jon's standing there totally impressed with himself because not only was there POOP on the floor, but he managed to totally gross out Mom and Katie. That's a shenanigans trifecta in his little mind, a cause de celebre, if you will. So he's just giggling like mad. Katie was all "Oh my gosh, Mom! That's SO gross, Jon! You really need to put your poop in the toilet, boy!"
Jonathan, annoyed with his big sister's admonishment, turned around, bent over at the waist, and stuck his bare bottom mere inches from Katie's face. Dare I mention that I had not yet been able to clean him up?
Katie reacted like every other 5-almost-6-year-old red-blooded American girl: she screamed like she saw the devil himself. "OH MY GAWD!!! MOMMMMM!!! JON THAT'S SO GROSS!!!" Then, shrieking, she ran from the bathroom. Jon did what every red-blooded American little brother would do given the same set of circumstances: he chased his sister into the bedroom to see if he could catch her and do it again.
Me? I'm sitting on the toilet in a state of shock at all that had just transpired. Poop balls on the floor. Butts in faces. This really is my life. Then the comedy of it all hit me and I couldn't stop laughing. I couldn't even catch my breath to tell Jon to stop chasing his sister and sticking his butt in her face. I was laughing so hard, and the tears were just rolling down my cheeks. The whole crazy scenario reminded me of something my brother Rob would do, and probably did, it's just the trauma of being his sister all those years has destroyed any memory of such event.
Does anyone remember when your mom would always say "I hope you have one just like you!" Now I knew going into this parenting gig the odds were heavy that I was going to give birth to at least one offspring that was just like me. And I did -- Katie is my clone in so many ways it is almost spooky. But hell, what the frig did I ever do to deserve having one just like my little brother? I'm still trying to figure that one out. I'm certain my mother is up there in heaven pissing on her angel's wings watching me wrangle these two knuckleheads.
So, Rob, this one's for you. I hope it gives you a chuckle out there in the great Midwest. I also bet you're feeling a certain sense of pride knowing that the torch of torture was passed right on down the ol' genetic line to your nephew Jon Jon, and he knows how to apply it much to the chagrin of myself and his poor sister. But, dear brother, your time awaits. I cannot wait for the day when I get the phone call or e-mail saying "hey, guess what Bradyn (my nephew) did today."
At the grocery store today, the kids always ALWAYS ask to see the "crabs" in the seafood section. The crabs, actually, are the tankful of lobsters, and some days they have a gazillion in there, and the kids just marvel at how they just crawl all over each other. So as we're making our way past the lobster tank, Katie took a pause to take a gander at the elaborate seafood selection at our local ShopRite. She asked me "what's this?" (squid) or "what's that pink fish over there?" (that's salmon). Then she spotted the big scoops of deviled crab displayed in the case. She asked "hey, Mom, is that fish ice cream?" Stifling my own laughter, I assured her that it wasn't ice cream, but didn't it sure look like ice cream! Her inquiry caught the attention of the fish monger just beyond the case, and he asked "what did she just say?" I then said "she asked if the deviled crab was fish ice cream." He cracked up.
Baby Girl lost her first tooth last night!!!!
She was quite pleased to see three crisp dollar bills under her pillow this morning. And how kind was the Tooth Fairy to leave her first baby tooth in its keepsake box in Mommy's curio cabinet? I thought that was a nice gesture.
