Spring Break

For most people those two words evoke Florida, drunk sorority and fraternity kids, string bikinis and all around debauchery. Not for me. For me it means playgrounds, Scooby Doo and general entertainment for a five year old. Yes it is this week. So all of the client work I am already behind on will have to wait a bit longer while I play host to the little man. He instructed me this morning that we were supposed to go on vacation during spring break. This made me think of those retro 50s photos with the captions over them. Mine would have said "Whoops! I forgot to book our all expenses paid luxury vacation for four equipped with a nanny".For clients wanting to get in touch with me--I will be checking email and voicemail when the little tyrant allows me to : ) For those of you parents who are in the same boat as I am--may the force be with you.

Foundation

This will probably be my last blog entry for the next week. I leave on Sunday for the Foundation Workshop near Dallas and don't return until next Friday. I am really excited, and for some reason nervous, about this workshop. I have been wanting to do it for ages and in all honesty I cannot even articulate why. I just have this feeling it is going to change things for me. I have no idea what form that will take either. I know almost nothing about what we are going to do there and that is intentional. I want to go in with no preconceived idea of what to expect.I feel like I have been stuck in some kind of rut since Ben was born almost five years ago. But if I was really honest it has been even longer than that. I struggle so much to find my own path and to not feel pressured to do things a certain way. My parents were all about the 'certain way' in life. I think that they felt success lay in keeping up with the joneses and dotting your Is and crossing your Ts. And when I fell short of that, which I inevitably always did, I didn't know where to turn. I had no model of what else life could look like. I apologize if I have told this story on the blog before, but one of my favorite anecdotes is the first time I met my birth mother. My parents are neat freaks. You could eat off their floors. Every time we kids put something on a counter my dad would say "Put this back where it goes". Everything was spotless. I was not good at spotless. For years I would have fits of neatness followed by spurts of slovenly living and then back again. The day I met my birth mother I went in to her house in Eureka and when I walked in I thought, "This explains a lot". There was stuff EVERYWHERE and I mean EVERYWHERE. Stuff made up additional furniture. There was a pile of used diet coke cans that almost filled a room. It was INSANE. My mother would have broken out into hives if she had seen that. And suddenly the 'chaos followed by order' cycle seemed a little less crazy. It was nature/nurture in action. I carry this perfect ideal in my head and as soon as I fall short of it, I let everything go. I am all or nothing. I exercise every day or not at all; if I eat one Haagen Dazs bar, I eat them all. I desperately need some moderation in my life, but seem unable to find it. My life has spun out of control lately. My head and my house are so full of STUFF that I cannot see anything. But sorting it all out seems like an overwhelming task. There is the very famous saying about "a journey of 10,000 miles begins with a single step," but I am unable to take that step. All I see is the enormous mountain top in front of me and I decide to take a nap instead. My dear friend Mollie is superficially the opposite of me. Her house is perfect, her clothes are perfect, she is beautiful and always looks so put together. I have had periods in my life like that, but never able to sustain them very long. I know that Mollie is not perfect. In personality I think we are more similar than different. I could use a little more of Mollie's togetherness and she could probably use a little more of my laid back ways. When I met my friend Tara for the first time I felt this crazy kinship with her because she was as laid back as I was. She didn't care what she wore or that every hair was in place and yet she exuded a strong sense of confidence that I also share. I KNOW my value, but I want to feel as outwardly confident as I can be on the inside. And really this is mostly a problem of perception, isn't it? I always have people say to me, "You seem so together" and I almost spurt my Diet Pepsi out my nose. Or they come over and say how neat my house is (in that case I think they are just being polite). And then I wonder what matters more--the fact that I read three novels a week or the fact that my house is a disaster zone? I think it all comes down to the fact that I need to stop thinking life is an either/or proposition. Anyone who has any advice gets a chocolate bar sent to them. I would send a cocktail, but that would be messy.

Coffee Angst

I have always loved coffee. It is the one pleasure that gets me out of the bed in the morning. That first sip is heaven. The days that I come downstairs when we are out of milk are heartbreaking. For the past ten years I made a a latte for myself every morning with an old Krups espresso maker that my parents bought for me. I had it down to a streamlined system where I could tell by sound when the milk was hot enough. When I got pregnant with Ben I dreaded having to give up my coffee and I researched as many sites as I could that said I could have one cup a day. This all became moot when I was so sick in my first trimester that I had no interest. After I gave birth my taste buds changed somewhat and I had to develop the taste for coffee again. And suddenly, when all was well, the coffee from my trusted Krups started to taste like stale cigarette smoke. I did everything I could think of. I cleaned the machine multiple times, changed grinds, changed brands, all with no success. So I started going to Starbucks. And it was expensive and not great. I did research at Consumer Reports and was told that the Nespresso is the wave of the future. And my parents love theirs. So I got one. And I tried to like it, I really did. The design is cool, it doesn't make a mess and is easy to operate and it makes great crema. But the coffees aren't to my taste. I tried almost every one they make and no go. So I headed back online and did more research. I started considering $500 machines, which is out of my price range. I got caught up in the coffee frenzy. For Christmas Josh go me a new machine that is working out really well so far. It is a Delonghi Retro Pump-Driven Espresso Maker. At first the coffee did not taste great and I again did some research and found out that although we had a burr grinder (recommended for espresso grinds) that the one we had was not grinding it fine enough. So I bought a Baratza Maestro for under $100 and lo and behold they were right. It made a huge difference. Lastly I had to tackle the problem of what coffee to use. For many years I used Peet's Coffee's Major Dickason's, but I was ready for a change. So after I read even more reviews I setlled on trying Lavazza Super Crema, which I really like. If you want to learn more about the art of espresso you should check out this post at the amazing blog not without salt. And if you have any suggestions of coffee brands/makers etc you like please share. Also, if you live in Austin and have any great cafe recommendations please share those as well.

Traveling with OCD Man

One thing that people who frequent this blog have to endure is my ramblings that become more verbose when I am traveling, since I have no access to posting photos.Airplanes have become petri dishes for humanity at large. I am currently reading 'Up in the Air' and I find it curious how little he talks about how surreal air travel can be. Today I am flying Southwest and it sucks. I hate not being assigned a seat. I am an aisle girl. At 5 foot 10 I need some extra leg room. So I boarded the plane in the very last group (of course). And all that was left were middle seats in between TWO people. So I sat in between two men, both middle aged who looked like the quiet types. Boy was I wrong. The guy sitting next to the window was a small man who was thin and wiry. Little did I know that he was OCD guy. This man moved around so much that he makes Ben look lethargic. He moved constantly, grabbing this and that out of his bag. And each time he did so he elbowed me with his sharp, skinny elbow. And did he say sorry? NO! Did he even acknowledge that he was being rude? No way. When he pulled out an inflatable full sized pilow and a PILLOW CASE I almost burst out laughing. It reminded me of the episode of 'Sex in the City' where Carrie is on jury duty and this one man keeps bringing a briefcase with him and every day he pulls out a different piece if fruit that is not an obvious choice to eat on the fly--like a mango or a persimmon. So my neighbor blows up his inflatable pillow and stuffs it into his plain vanilla white case. He then spends the next ten minutes trying to get every aspect of the pillow just right. He adjusted and readjusted. And it took every ounce of control that I had not to back knuckle him and tell him he is an idiot. So he puts his pillow on his lap and proceeds to test it by hugging it and putting his head down on it. He then--I kid you not--pulled out an eye mask and ear plugs. It was 1:00 in the afternoon and while I applaud anyone who can sleep in the middle of the day, his methods were a tad excessive. And this flight was loud. Super loud. Every time I am on a plane to Vegas it is party central and this was no exception. I even overheard a conversation where a guy was saying "I actually own a breathalyzer". So he proceeds to nap and then every ten minutes or so he abruptly lifts his head, opens the window shade, looks out the window, shuts the shade and puts his head on the pillow. What fresh hell is this I wonder? He does it over and over again. When his nap is over he starts rumaging through his bag (which he needs to hit and elbow me to get at) takes something out and puts it back. He does this over and OVER and OVER AGAIN. He applies lip balm, grabs his paper and I wonder why he cannot get everything he needs at once. But of course he cannot because this would be less annoying to me. At the end of the flight he is on his cell phone calling the company that is picking him up. When he spells his last name, it is I kid you not, FROCKMAN. Enough said.

What is Voice?

I have been thinking a great deal about style and voice and wondering what mine is. Is it true to itself or have I not realized it fully yet? Is where I am now simply a step on my way to finding what I really want to say?Lately I have been really interested in the work of Sally Mann and continue to be a huge fan of Cheryl Jacobs Nicolai. I recently saw the documentary "What Remains" about Sally Mann's history, her work and her process. I was fascinated by her and what she does. And I admire the intent that goes in to these two women's work as well as the work of Julie Blackmon. I feel like I too often react instead of planning. And maybe that is okay. Maybe I prefer to have the story unfold in front of me and to act as translator rather than to create and write the story myself. I worked as a graphic designer for many years and after I graduated from art school I went to a design intensive for a month in Maine for Project M. John Bielenberg, who founded it, often talked about beauty being irrelevant and that design is all about message. But I argued that beauty had an intrinsic message, although I could never articulate what it was. In photography I seek for them both to exist. But am I simply doing the same thing all over again and checking meaning at the front door? I feel like I have two very distinct sides to what I do. I have the sharp, clear, documentary style work that I do (and which compromises probably 90% of my work) and then I have the softer, moodier side (like what I have shown here). And I cannot seem to make them work together. And so I wonder which one is my 'real' voice? Is the stuff I am showing here simply imitations of other people's work and not my true path? What I really seek to convey is emotion in all of its forms. I want to show it all: tears, smiles, laughter, frustration, annoyance, everything. I want to look beyond the face we show to the world to find what is inside. I am not afraid to see it all and I find it all has beauty in one form or another. Perhaps it is an impossible goal, but a worthy one to strive for nonetheless.

The Good Mother

Every day I struggle to be a better parent. Lately I am losing the battle. I am stressed, sick, tired, overworked. I have a million excuses. At the end of the day I tell myself I will do better the next day. Sometimes I do, often I do not. I want their holidays to be special and filled with wonderful things. And then I find myself two days before Christmas, exhausted from working nonstop for months, wondering how I will manage even getting wrapped presents under the tree, much less a Martha Stewart table with turkey. But we will be together and that is enough--it has to be. The above were shot with a Hasselblad on Porta 400NC.

Holiday Thunderdome 2009: Three People Enter . . .

It is that time of year again. The time when the boys have NO SCHOOL FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS!!! Luckily this year Josh has some vacation time he needs to use up, so I only have the boys entirely to myself today and tomorrow. This is a HUGE improvement from last year when I had very little hair left on my head after the vacation was over.Even though there will be two of us I will still be unable to do much work. The survivial of my marriage depends on my not disappearing too often into the confines of my office. After about three months of solid working on weekends the old man has earned some childcare support from yours truly. And since our house has been hit by a hurricane and there are NO CLEAN CLOTHES ANYWHERE IN THIS HOUSE I expect we will be uber busy nonetheless. My blogging will be spotty at best over the next two weeks (although I expect the Facebook updates will be plentiful). If you are a client in need of assistance during this time I will be able to help you, but probably not as speedily as usual. Not to worry though--I will back in my usual seat in front of my computer on Monday, January fourth. Happy Holidays!

I Fought The Law and Guess Who Won?

I have been driving for about 26 years (rest your brain, no need to do the math--I am 42). In that time I have never had a speeding ticket etc. Until I came to Texas that is. In the last two years I have been a beacon for driving issues.First I get pulled over on the way home from San Antonio (after a shooting a wedding) for speeding, but I get off with a warning. Then I go back to California and get a ticket for taking a left turn at 8:25 on a Monday morning. Apparently there is a little sign that says you cannot take a left on Mondays between 8 and 8:30 am. Can you BELIEVE that? I get a ticket. I promptly forget about it. Back in Texas I lose my wallet with my California license in it. Then it expires. I try to get a Texas license. I go through the initial pass through at the DMV, wait two hours and am then told I need a current passport. I order a passport, it takes two months. I go back to the DMV. They tell me I cannot get a license because California has suspended mine for not appearing for that turning left ticket. I pay the state of California $500 to strike that off my record. I go back to the Texas DMV and take the written test which I barely pass because I am unsure if you get your license suspended for 120-180 days or 180-240 days for your first incident of drunk driving. They tell me to come back the next day to take the driving test. I do. I wait in line. Five minutes after they open they tell me all the driving test spots are full. I come back the next morning one and a half hours before they open at 6:30am. By the time they open the doors there are over sixty people in the queue. I luckily get a spot and then drive around the corner four times and pass the test. So I figure I am DONE with the driving bureaucracy. I thought wrong. I was driving back from a networking thing the other night and I got pulled over. My lights were not on. I am daft, but I think I will just get a warning. Then I turn the lights on and she says that my front right headlight is out. Again I am daft, but I think I will just get a warning. Then she notices my registration has lapsed. I am daft and I am screwed and EXHAUSTED.

Wait Wait

Josh and I had a rare night out without the children. Our dear friends Geni and Kell were gracious enough to take care of the boys so that we could have a respite. We went to a great Ethiopian restaurant called Aster's and then headed over to Bass Concert Hall on the UT campus to watch the taping of "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me". It was so great. I haven't laughed that hard in years. And the surprise guest was none other than the fabulous singer songwriter Robert Earl Keen, who besides being a talented musician is a very funny man. So definitely listen to this week's show on Saturday. It will make you smile.

The Movies

I am sitting here on a cloudy Sunday morning with my cup of coffee and 10 million things to do before I leave for the better part of two weeks to travel around taking photos. So what am I doing? Yep. I am procrastinating with a blog entry. I have seen so few movies in the last few years post children. In the last couple of weeks I have seen more than usual, which is a real treat. In the last couple of days I saw two that both fill diffferent parts of my personality--the light and the heavy. They were Twilight and Revolutionary Road (which has the amazing photo above on its poster). Starting with the light--I watched Twilight on the computer from an Amazon download. I must admit that I am OBSESSED with this series and I have no idea why. I have read all of the books several times over and finally watched the movie, which was much better than I was thought it would be, mostly because my expectations were so low after the mediocre reviews it got from people I know. Many people complained about the special effects, which frankly I could care less about. I think Catherine Hardwick is an amazing director and the screenwriting and adaptation of the novel by Melissa Rosenberg was really very good. And it you looked past the silly flying stuff, the artistry in scenes like the one where they are playing baseball is resplendent. The movie took me back to the teen dramas of John Hughes, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and Valley Girl. Movies that I watched over and over and can still see and be instantly transported back to a time in my life that is long past. Perhaps that is why I love Twilight so much. It brings me back to being a teenage girl and I no longer remember the angst and the insecurity, but rather the butterflies I felt when a boy I liked walked in the room or the phone finally rang after I hovered over it for the better part of an hour. And I do not see the parents as overly controlling anymore, but now as gatekeepers for their children's safety, as carriers of all of the worry. The worry that I now have to carry. Just being able to leave the responsibilities of adulthood behind for a couple of hours is such a gift. On the other side of the spectrum was Revolutionary Road, I have put off seeing this film. I knew it would be a tough one to watch. I read the Yates novel a few years ago. I knew that I would see too much of myself in it. So even though my beloved Kate Winslet was starring, I kept putting it off. But I wanted to see it before it left the theater, so the other night I went on my own. And it was exactly what I thought it would be--expertly acted, beautiful direction and cinematography and so very, very sad. One big surprise came out of it for me and that was Leonardo DiCaprio. I have never been a big fan of his and so much has been made of Winslet's performance, but this was DiCaprio's movie. He owned it and he was amazing. The part of Frank Wheeler is not for the meek and he not only stood his ground, but took it to a new place. If you have not seen it, you should. It is hard to watch, but it is beautiful and most importantly it is real. Its honesty is what was hard for me to sit in a dark theater with. I feel stuck like the Wheelers. I too thought I would be something special, something grander than I am. And I am not. I am ordinary. And like many of the women in the fifties, I do not find child rearing to be enough. It often feels like a trap or a prison to me. I might sound cruel for saying so, but that is what is real for me.The best line in the film is when April says, "Tell me the truth Frank remember that? We used to live by it. And you know what's so good about the truth? Everyone knows what it is however long they've lived without it. No one forgets the truth Frank they just get better at lying". Amen.

Spring Break

These two words came crashing down on my reality late last week when I realized that Ben's preschool (PRESCHOOL for goodness sakes) was taking this week off. What in the world do four year olds need a break from I ask you? So as I am still struggling to accept life at home with one child I am suddenly home with two and going completely bonkers.I am sorry people, but women are being screwed. We are supposed to work at home, work in corporate America AND take care of children. And then the structures we have put in place to help us with the burden of childcare (so we can go WORK) decide they want to take a week off every once in awhile. Meanwhile our clients do not have the week off. Our work does not stop coming. The world does not come to a halt in order for us to drop everything this week. And for all of you out there who are going to say that teachers need a break I say hogwash. I think teaching is the hardest job on the planet so I say treat it like any other profession with much better wages and fair vacation pay. And let's face it, most teachers I know are women with their own children so it is not like they are sitting home eating bon bons this week. This "let's close the world down once a week in the Spring, two weeks in December and all summer long" is ludicrous. Even before I had children I saw my female co-workers go through this hell every year--what to do with the kids over the summer, how to get off work in the Spring. And do 8 year olds REALLY NEED 12 weeks off in the summer from the pressures of third grade? When I speak with my women friends about the pressures of life with work and children and home responsibilities we all roll our eyes as if to say "We are so screwed and we know it". But none of us (and I am definitely including myself in this group) ever does anything to change it. We have so little female representation in our government and what we do have does nothing for us in these areas. As I am typing this I am fending off a toddler who is trying to climb on my laptop. Something tells me this is not a problem that Barbara Boxer faces daily. Sarah Palin, who claims she is "just like us", has a record in Alaska that shows that she has done nothing legislatively for working mothers. These women are so busy trying to show the men that they are just as tough as they are, are playing THEIR game, not ours. We aren't even on the playing field. We are on the sidelines making sandwiches and pacifying children. If we have to give a chunk of time off, I say we do it like the French, where the entire country simply shuts down for one month per year and everyone is on vacation. And while I am on a rant, let's continue to be like the French and make better bread. Is it too much to ask for a decent baguette in Central Texas?

It's Official. I am Brain Dead.

When I picked up my parents at the airport this evening I mentioned that Ben's birthday was today as a little reminder in case my parents were suffering from a senior moment. My mom looked at me funny and said "No it's not. His birthday is March 9th." At which point I realized that Sam's birthday is the 6th (of Sept) and Ben's is indeed the 9th. It is now official. I have lost every brain cell I ever had and my mother's memory is better than mine. About MY children. It is a sad, sad state of affairs. Any day now I will not only have to input every occasion in our lives in my ical and have the alarm beep at me to remind me, but I think programming my own bathroom reminders is around the corner, less we have some unfortunate accidents.

The Meat of the Matter

Life has been stressful lately. And when I get stressed out my diet goes to pot. Today, after an amazing massage with massage therapist extraordinaire Sara, my body was screaming out for some meat. And there is no better place to feed the need for meat than here in Texas. So I headed out to Rudy's and ate more meat than seems humanly possible. So I had some brisket, some finger licking good sauce, some crunchy coleslaw with some sweet tea to wash it down. And damn it was good.

Mapping Life

When I was younger I always envisioned having children, but they honestly served more as accessories in my daydreams than as real people. So along that line of thinking you can imagine what a wake up call real children were. I spent years babysitting or spending time with children, but I always got to leave them behind and resume my own life. And even now that I am a mother I still feel a bit that way. As if I am waiting for someone to spell me and no one comes.The three times I have been away from my children in the last four years it has been a bit of a renewal for me. As the days to myself passed I became more and more of who I was. I began to shower more often, brush my teeth, wear nicer clothes. I came back to myself. I missed my three boys of course. It was as if I was doomed. I could either have myself or my family. I know it will not always be this way, but it is where I am right now. You really can't have it all. Starting next month Sam and Ben will be home with me much more during the week. These tough economic times are affecting all of us and we are not exempt. I am very nervous about this change. I have always been very forthright about the fact that I am not SAHM material. And here I will be: stay at home mom by day and working mom by night. Any little sense of self I have remaining is threatened into distinction. So what is all of this rambling about? I really have no idea. Just the feeling that I am on the brink of change and unsure of what it will bring.

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

I have been giving this topic a great deal of thought lately. When I first starting photographing people in earnest, I was very severe about everything being totally documentary. I did not touch anything in Photoshop, not a blemish, a pimple or anything. I got caught on this idea that everything had to be real. And then after listening to many photographers and pulling from my previous education, I reminded myself that there is no such thing as 'real'. Photography is by no means an objective medium. There are so many decisions that the photographer makes, which therefore plant it firmly in the subjective camp. So I started correcting certain things like blemishes, snot in kids' noses etc. I started following the "if it won't be there in three weeks then get rid of it" mentality. And I think that served me well. And for the most part I still follow it. But I am also a big believer in people looking the best that they can, but more importantly to portray them as I see them. After all, the final image is really about my relationship with the subject(s)and so my interpretation in inevitable. So more and more I have been touching up crow's feet and smile lines. Not getting rid of them altogether, but softening them. Still keeping the texture of their face intact, but not having the viewer's eye be distracted by things that have no bearing on the image. Sometimes when I open a raw image straight out of the camera I am shocked by how harsh it can be. I will look at every nook and cranny of someone's face and think, "That is NOT what they look like. At least that is not how I see them." And so I begin to ask myself which is real or which is more honest. And does REAL and HONEST matter? It's like your friend who you have know for 15 years. They say they have gained 20 pounds and you have not noticed because that is not how you see them. You have a nostalgic image of them that is clouded by memory and suffused with the inner beauty that they have. Even with my clients whom I have known merely for hours. The bond that I develop with them colors how I see their physical image.

Ultimately I have decided that I want to show people as I see them. That this is the most important thing for me. To portray their years and their wisdom, but to also let that inner beauty shine. They are not supermodels. They are not meant to be flawless. But they are all imperfectly resplendent and magnificent to behold.

Home on the Range

Josh is safely back home from the hospital now. The verdict ended up being pretty much what we thought it would be. After a multitude of tests they basically said that they do not know what happened. I am terrified to see the bill. Luckily we have good insurance, but I am sure we will still have to pay something. Listen to me. What a cynic. Mostly we are of course so happy that Josh is fine. I am not done with that boy yet. I still need him. It has been a tough couple of days and I have had no patience with the children. I end up snapping at them and then think that I have permanently damaged them. Ben is incredibly sensitive and since I was that way as a child I am hyper aware of being short with him. I feel like crap about it. I often wish I could be a different kind of person and mother. But I am having one of those "I am going to eat some worms" days so I won't go on too much about that.Sara saved me yesterday when I sent out a plea for help. Luckily she took the boys BEFORE I had to call the 'I am going to give my children away' hotline. She and hubby Russell AND Sara's dad took the boys for the afternoon and for a pizza dinner. I was going to go see Twilight because I really needed something mindless and entertaining, but the theater did not have a 4:15 showing like Yahoo said it did, so I was at a loss as to what to do with myself for a couple of hours. I always pray for free time and then when I have it I can't quite remember what I used to do for fun. So I did what every woman in my situation would do. I went shoe shopping. And I SCORED. Five pairs of shoes for $50. Three from Goodwill and two from Ross. Woohoo! I am so grateful and appreciative for all the kind words and thoughts we have gotten over the past few days, not to mention all of the help. In addition to Geni, Kell, Sara and Russell, much gratitude to Melanie for taking them this morning when she already had a very full house. And to Melissa who organized a care calendar to give me aid. With no family here in Austin, I have no idea what I would do without the wonderful support of my Austin friends and the O'Mamas. This is starting to sound like an acceptance speech, so I will stop. But first I would like to thank my mother.

Because I am Too Darn Lazy to Tell the Story More Than Once

As some of you know by my cryptic twitter/facebook updates, Josh went into the hospital early this morning. Everyone wants to know how he is doing, which is SO sweet. Instead of telling the story many times, I am opting for the super duper technology of blogging to keep my repeats to a minimum.We were awoken at about 6:30 this morning by our rotten, rotten children. We were both lying on our L-shaped couch and then Josh sat up and tilted his head back. It looked like he had fallen asleep but his eyes were rolling into the back of his head. In order to avoid going into gory details, I will just leave it at saying that he was unresponsive for the next minute. So I called 911. They came and found that his blood sugar was at a very dangerously low level and so they took him into the ER where they ran some tests and found that they still could not find the problem, but they were concerned enough to keep him overnight to run even more tests. So he has been in the hospital all day and will stay there overnight. The boys and I just went to visit him and they ate ALL of his chocolate pudding, which just may have been the worst thing that has happened all day. I keep accusing him of simply wanting to get a day away from the kids and I and reminding him that a room at the Four Seasons would be cheaper and nicer than his accommodations at the North Austin Medical Center. So he is doing fine and we have our fingers crossed that it will turn out to be an aberration. We miss him at home and feel SO happy that he is safe and being cared for. A big shout out to our dear friend Geni, who was ripped from her warm bead this morning to come and watch the boys while I rode in the ambulance to the ER with Josh, which I am ashamed to admit was a bit of a thrill for this sad suburban mom. Geni then had to endure being directed by a three year-old on how to make 'toad in a hole' before even having her morning coffee and her husband Kell had to withstand having six children, rather than his usual four, for the day. That could NOT have been fun. Geni and Kell very kindly gifted us a night of babysitting so we could have a night on the town which we have not had since the first Bush presidency term. Josh mentioned this morning that perhaps their having taken care of the boys today should count for that. I said "No way. I am going to see a movie in the theater and go out to eat without my children BEFORE the end of Obama's first term". Get well soon Josh. We miss you terribly. I will keep you all updated. Thanks for your concern.

Motherhood Review 2008

This is a review of Bonnie's skills as a mother as dictated by her two sons, Ben and Sam. They feel that her abilites as a mother are generally fair, but that there is room for improvement. Her strengths are her affection for us and her play skills are excellent. She needs to work on her patience, her cooking skills, her laundry time schedule and her housekeeping abilities. She also needs to learn to play well with others and be a team player. And she needs to spend less time on her computer and reading her novels and more time meeting our constant needs. Our final suggestion is that she start taking speed. We think it might help in the energy department. We are looking forward to working with her in 2009 and are hopeful that she will take these suggestions under advisement. She has the raw material to be an excellent mother and we think that with a little motivation and a great deal of alcohol consumption, she will survive 2009 just fine.

Clarification

Okay everyone. During my pity party last night I used some black humor to write a blog entry. Big mistake. I am not giving up anything. Most of you thought I was talking about quitting photography. I was actually joking about offing MYSELF, but since that is the only time I would actually give up my camera (out of my cold, dead hands...and all that stuff) I suppose they are really one in the same. I was just in a bad mood and did not have enough self restraint to ask myself "Is this blog post a good idea?"Since I will be home with the kids for the next two weeks I will have: 1. a GAZILLION photos that will be taken 2. too many cocktails prepared and consumed AND 3. an appointment for a lobotomy scheduled and then cancelled (once one of my friends talks me out of it) So stay tuned for all of the wackiness that is sure to ensue. I am SO far behind on processing personal stuff but here is one of Ben and I from this morning. I am trying to be better and actually include myself in some of my shots. That way there will be plenty to choose from for my funeral (kidding... I am KIDDING!) Bonnie Berry is an Austin based child, family and wedding photographer.