New Year
Well, the bathroom we started last year
(see here) is at exactly the same spot it was when Darrah was born. Which is to say, everything is done but the last sanding of drywall mud (which precedes the primer, paint, and wall accent tiles)- which means there's no finish to the project. I'm starting to get tired of looking at the purple of unfinished walls, but the rest of the room is gorgeous.
Maybe my New Year's resolution will be to nag the husband into finishing that. I don't really do the resolution thing.
Anyway. You know how sometimes, you're reminded of how far behind your kid is? How you realize that babies born at the same time or after are just light years ahead? That feeling blows, truly, even when you're normally very accepting of the situation. Every once in a while it sneaks up on me, and I get blindsided by the walking, talking, story-telling, logical "typical" almost threes.
But then there's the rest of the time, like last night- when we take two kids out to big people dinner, and my daughter ate seaweed salad and my son ate sushi. When Noel practiced his walking, walking, walking, and Darrah flirted with the entire restaurant. When our 'drinking friends' (who have all grown up, but we're the only ones married with kids) are smitten by our babies, as they should be.
When we first got Noel's diagnosis, I remember the first thing that started to pull me out of the new diagnosis black hole- it was that we could still go out to brunch. That everything good that we liked to do... we could still do. Looking back, it seems terribly obvious, but at the time, I forgot that everything wasn't changing, even though it felt that way. It's when we're doing the everyday things- going out to dinner with old friends, for instance- I feel the weight of the realization that everything is just fine- it's our life. And it's really perfect, just the way it is.
Happy New Year!
cookie monster
Noel helped me make sugar cookies. Sort of.
Know what I love?
Hanna Andersson.On sale, too.
Especially when everyone gave us Christmas money for the kids, and I spent a little pile of it on Darrah, so she can be cuter than all the other babies in town.
I so don't lie. Cutest girl ever.
Oh, and a Hanna secret?
Go to the virtual catalog, and you can sometimes get stuff that's on sale but not in the 'sale' listings.
So clueless.
So, the last time I had a video game thing? My Gameboy, circa 1986. My mom still plays Tetris on it. The clear protective face has come off, and it's shaped like a brick, but the little green screen and dots get the job done.
You can imagine my shock when I got (erm, WE got) a Wii. I wanted the Yoga doohickey, and like magic, there it was, right under my mom's tree.
I'm noticing that I have zero idea how video games work these days.
Anyway, I made a little handful of little Mii-ple, a little Darrah, Noel, and one of me. The husband made his own. Now when we do the bowling thing, the kids are there in the background. Pretty cute.
I have no concept of the Mii parade or why my Mii-s should mingle (but they
can). Hmm.
Happy Christmas, indeed. I hope everyone's was as good as ours.
Happy Christmas, again.
So, we're in the thick of another holiday season, and we're getting the kids ready for the first of grandparent hopping. It'll all be over soon enough, though, and the new year looms. With it comes an issue I have... a themed New Year's Eve party.
When everyone is done with their holiday stuff, and get around to reading this, give me your opinion, wouldja?
Eighties NYE- early 80s, mid 80s, or late? I was in middle school in the late 80s, so I can do rattrap mall bangs, teal eyeshadow, and two colors of socks- btdt, you know. The early to mid 80s with neons and that one shoulder sweatshirt deal and Madonna-look stuff was really before I came into my own as far as dressing myself went, but I can do it. Jelly bracelets and that sort of thing.
Any other thoughts on this would be helpful, too. You know, I saw leggings and a one shoulder, boxy, long sweater in a store the other day. You'd think we would have learned- the 80s weren't pretty, as I recall.
kittens on parade
So, Noel has been absolutely tiring the past few days. If not in constant contact with me, he dissolves into a pile of tears. If his sister cries, he dissolves into a pile of tears. If asked to hold his own sippy cup, he dissolves into a pile of tears. You get the drift. At first, we thought he was coming down with something, because this is totally not like him, not one bit. So I waited for a fever or a sniffle or something, which never happened.
We hit a crying peak two days ago, and while it's still happening, it's getting better- as in, I can refill my coffee and get back to the kids before the saddest boy in the world returns.
In this crazyhouse, then, I've been editing the engagement photos I took last weekend. I wasn't able to put the full amount of attention to them that I normally would, but nonetheless, I'm very happy with them, and like what I have. My big complaint is that I don't have as much as I would like in the proof gallery, not really the quality of what's there. So I shoot the bride an email a couple of days ago, telling her that I only have a couple images up, but that I'd be getting more in there soon. She tells me that she really likes what's there and can't wait to see what else goes in. (to paraphrase, 'oh! those are awesome! I can't wait to see what else you have for us!)
I finished last night, sent the bride the full proof gallery, and this morning I get another email (again, generally paraphrased)- "I'm really not very photogenic, and I only like two of the pictures you put up to begin with, and none of the ones you put up later". Now I'm trying to figure out exactly what she doesn't like, and see if I can't salvage something or even reshoot if necessary. But man, this SUCKS.
In happier news, though, Noel was crawling around the living room last night, meowing like a cat. Darrah was plowing along behind him, singing bah-bah-bah.
Pretend play, woohoo! My kids are funny enough to make the boo-hoo week we've had worthwhile.
It's early!
The
lineup for JazzFest will be released today.
I am spectacularly excited, and waiting around my computer for the announcement. (not really, we cancelled therapy for a car issue, and I'm at the computer when the kids let me edit photos)
And to the commenter who thought I was pregnant again at the last post... oh, dear god, no. Thankfully. Not that I'm saying that there's no #3... just that we aren't even having that conversation yet. Babies are nice, I like them, and my mindset on having more changes every time the wind blows. Immediately after the girl made her appearance, I was sure that was the end. I was NEVER going to do that again. About two days later I changed my mind, because while she's loud and determined and came out screaming and never really stopped- man, babies are awesome little critters.
So. We'll see. Later... way later than today.
two down, three to go
Maternity shoot went ok. Could have been better, but it was fine. Tomorrow is a family Christmas photo followed immediately by an engagement photo.
Sunday is another family Christmas session, but it's been rescheduled once due to the mom having contractions, so who knows. Maybe THAT should have been a maternity session.
I feel like I should be taking the appointments when they're available, but in the future, I think I'll limit my sessions to 3 a week. This is too busy for me (a complaint I don't mind, though, considering the alternative).
that guy from Scrubs
Y'all know
Dr. Cox, aka John C McGinley, has a son with Down syndrome. No? Well, you do now. He did an interview with Exceptional Parent, a mag for pros and families to the special needs community. Here's my favorite part.
EP: As someone with years of experience and great success in the entertainment industry, how do you feel about the portrayal of individuals with disabilities in television and film?
JCM: Well, I have a pretty strong feeling about that. Mostly as it pertains to kids with Down syndrome because kids with Down syndrome have the physical markers of a person with challenges. I mean, you see some kids with autism, and you wouldn’t know until you saw either their behavior – or something. Well, kids with Down syndrome have markers and so when you see cowards like the “Ben Stillers of the world” producing profoundly mediocre films like Tropic Thunder and dropping the word “retard” 17 times in five minutes… well, I’ll tell you something, when I see Ben, that just makes me want to pick on HIM now. Because there’s no militant arm of the National Down Syndrome Society (NDSS) that’s going to respond to a transgression—like there is in the Jewish community with the Anti Defamation League. Or, God forbid, you go and say something against African Americans; you’re going to have the NAACP in your kitchen. We don’t have the militant arm at NDSS. We have kids who when THEY go to a protest, it looks funny because they ARE so nice, and you know damn well they would rather have a hug than hold a placard. So it really cuts me to the core. And it feels to me like the perfect storm of cowardice when you pick on people who can’t return serve. So for Ben Stiller—who directed Tropic Thunder—he is just such a punk coward.
EP: So Ben Stiller is not a friend of yours?
JCM: He couldn’t possibly be a friend of mine. Because he worked with the Farrelly brothers—doing Something About Mary—and the Farrelly brothers have championed a lot of special needs causes. So there is no way that you’re not—if you’re Ben stiller—aware that you’re perpetuating a negative stigma and that you’re doing something hurtful. And so while I don’t want to be another actor who’s going to tell somebody how to talk and what’s politically correct and what’s not, if you are aware that you’re hurting either caregivers or the people with Down syndrome, what’s the upside? I don’t like any exclusionary language. I hate it. Because all it does it perpetuate negative stigmas about different groups. And where’s the upside? The upside, I assume, is when people use language like that is that someone is trying to elevate themselves by denigrating whoever the subject is. And it doesn’t work that way. It just makes you a jackass. And I loathe it. I hate bullies and that, to me, is like bully language. I loathe it.
good gawd
I have a maternity shoot in less than two hours.
It's for a non-profit group- a teen mom birth class. A maternity shoot was offered as a bribe to get the girls to stay for the whole class. I volunteered ages ago, and forgot about it until last Thursday. There are three girls.
I have an hour and a half to make them all glow, with only a completely portable studio setup that I've thrown together.
I hope I can pull it off. I'm nervous.
(and re: that weird camera thing? I can't replicate it. I've tried and tried. Gonna hit up the local repair shop for a loaner while they ship it back for the second repair at the factory)
good/bad
Well, there's good news, and there's bad news. First of all, all that whining and griping about not being good at what I choose to be my big girl job... well. That's all directly related to the fact that I wasn't getting any gigs. Now?
I'm all kinds of booked. Like, more than I originally decided I would accept in a week overbooked. Three girls on Wednesday, double booked on Saturday, one yesterday, and one Thursday. I've got stuff going on, oh, yes.
Nice, right? That's the good news. People like me, they really like me!
The bad news, though, is that my camera started acting like a fool halfway through the shoot yesterday, and now I am very concerned that I will have a non-working camera on the one occasion when I'm double, triple, super busy. And I can't have that. Today I'm going to try to recreate the bad thing, and hopefully we can blame the memory card. If not, if it really is the camera, I'm still under warranty. But I still can't be without a camera, and I can't have a broken one, either. I (stupidly) still don't really have a backup body, so you know, I suck. I have approximately seven katrillion film cameras- 35mm, medium format, whatever. Canons, Pentax, Kodak, Bronica, an
Exa... but no backup digital body.
My husband was unprepared for the amount of crazy I bring to being self-employed. I spent the better part of last night fretting over the ten files (out of 200) that were bad. And stressed outrageously over the fact that the stupid camera might be crap.
At least I'm busy.
damn chickens
She's alive. I know because the stupid bird is sitting next to the coop trying to figure out a way to get back in.
If I thought I could catch her to put her in, I would, but I know she'd spook and off she'd go, into the trees again. I'm leaving her alone until hopefully, in an hour or two, she'll fall asleep where she is and I can grab her then. With any luck, right?
This hen better lay me a damn egg tomorrow, and it better be the best egg I've ever eaten.
I'm making the husband talk to the crate stealers.
final update:
Stupid chicken is back in the coop. It took about 30 hours.
Crate neighbors decided to 'help' me catch the chicken, apparently. Granted, I wasn't having any luck, so it's not like it was a problem... but weird.
Back to your regularly scheduled non-chicken on the loose activities.
dead or alive?
I don't know. She was alive at 9:30, because I found her foraging around on the street behind us. Trying to catch a chicken with two babies in tow is not possible, trust me. I chased her around a little, through someone's yard, in the street... the people in my neighborhood must really wonder about my sanity. I left a small dog crate with a bowl full of chicken feed and popcorn across from where she was hanging out.
Left the scene for about an hour. I just went back, and the bowl of bribes is untouched, and there are two cats hanging around the yard where I left her. As a prey animal, and a high flying one, at that, I hope she's managed to escape the cats, but I don't know where she got off to. That thing about chickens coming home to roost? Not true in our case. She chose an oak tree, about twenty feet up. If she manages to stay alive, I don't see us catching her easily. I'll keep trying, though. To the entire neighborhood's amusement, I'm sure.
Update!
Well. A neighbor on the street behind us, next door to the abandoned house where I left the crate with bowl of bribes, has absconded with the crate. It's sitting in their fenced front yard. I thought about just taking it back, but don't really want to go into someone's fenced yard. I discovered this new development when I had given up on the plan to retrieve the chicken, and wanted to bring the crate home. I have been checking on the crate every half hour - hour, and had said good morning to that neighbor this morning already; yesterday I saw the same neighbor in our shared alley. It's not like they didn't know what it was for, or that I wouldn't be back.
How bizarre.
flew the coop
dammit. There's a chicken on the loose in our neighborhood. Right now she's roosting in a tree across the alley from our house- the house is vacant, so as long as she stays put I have a little more leeway in catching her in the morning.
stupid chicken.
I'm not as awesome as I'd like to believe.
It's true. Remember my friend? The one that got a positive amnio?
She decided to terminate.
That's ok. I fully believe that everyone has to come to these decisions on their own, and I know that no one WANTS to have an abortion. Trust me, I know. I know it's not any kind of reflection of me or my kid, and the feeling that a baby like mine isn't good enough for someone who decides not to continue with a known T21 pregnancy... well. Everyone has to travel down their own road. This I believe.
The part that bugs me, though, is this part. When I first heard about the whole situation, it was like this: she found out she was pregnant, they got married, they moved several states away. That's really hard, really stressful, and I don't know that I would have made those choices, but there ya go. It's what happened.
The termination, however, is being framed like this: it was too early in the relationship for
any pregnancy, not just
this one. I would be totally supportive of that logic if it was early in the pregnancy, if they hadn't decided to go and get married and move because of it. It was totally acceptable for the first four months to be totally gung ho lets get married and have babies and live happily ever after tra la la.
Now it's too much? That's a cop out.
It's none of my business, but that kind of pisses me off.
