Cold Spaghetti

The kids stood in the crowded elevator enjoying the bounce at each stop up to the 6th floor. “It feels funny, doesn’t it?” Paul asked them.

“It makes my penis feel funny!” Will exclaimed to half of New Orleans.*

And with that, we entered the pediatrician’s office.

What we know: there does not seem to be fluid in his ear, an access of ear wax interfering with “membrane movement,” or anything else in there that would displace enough air to make anyone concerned. He is scheduled for additional testing at Children’s on Wednesday. Damn. I was really hoping for a slam duck on this one… and now I’m thinking that he’s physically fine and instead has some larger, big picture issue. Like, he’s just being five. And five can just be weird. No drug treatment for this.

But while we’re on the subject of Will, I thought I’d share what I know will be his most favorite picture of all time. One that he posed for purposely and requested photographic capture:

Well, this one could be a close second.

* We’ve had some practice with this before.

Kate: “I look silly!”

Kate: “I love it!”

I’m 21 today!!  (In hex.)  Good thing, too, because I recently heard this exchange among my Schweitzer group:

“What did he look like?”

“Oh, you know… tall, brown hair, middle age… like, in his late 20s/early 30s.”

Phew!  Good to know hex puts me squarely in the early age category!  Although I am young and so thrilled to finally be able to buy booze, I am going for a low-key celebration.  So for all you peeps ready to take me out drinking on the town, here are some things I won’t be doing today, on my birthday:

— I will not be putting gifts in my children’s shoes in celebration of Epiphany (although the cat may leave one in mine.)

— I will not see the parade in the French Quarter to kick off the start of Carnival Season.

— I will not be taken out to a Fancy Dinner (although I may serve a mediocre one to my family.  Readers are encouraged to send easy recipes to this culinary-challenged woman, with the understanding that I can barely boil water.)

— I will not be rudely awoken from an afternoon nap.

— I will not be lavished seduced with presents (although I will probably be given a hidden gift from my mother-in-law and sung to by my parents).

— Our household will not relocate to Disney-developed Celebration, Florida, even though Casa Latino, one of the country’s largest Hispanic and minority owned real estate offices, is moving there from New England (how strange is that?!)

— I will not be bothered if I decide to eat frozen cookie dough in lieu of not having Fancy Dinner.

— It will not be judged careless if I decide to catch up on random websites and enjoy things like these portraits, these lights, these light cords, these knitted curiosities, and these paper illustrations.

— No one will bother me if I want to play Momma-razzi all night with my camera.  Smile, kids!

Thank you for all the birthday well-wishes!

—

UPDATE: A big whoops for forgetting the hat tip to laloca, for pointing out the knitting curiosities.  I’d say that they made my day, but considering how many people I’ve shown them to and how it’s still up in my browser, I think making my week is much more appropriate.  I guess I’m in a bit of a twisted funk??

Carry berries to mountain and wish HAPPY NEW YEAR!

1. Kate.

2. Pigtails.

(and a few more words… just ’cause.)

I cannot wait to have Photoshop and Aperture at my fingertips once again.  Must. Ignore. Photo. Problems.  For now.

In the meanwhile, I created my own problems with light and dark.

I worked on it in pieces over the past few days… while the kids ate lunch, watching Will and Paul play Lego Indiana Jones, during naptimes.  The photo above is the only ‘in process’ photo I have, unless someone looks at the ‘finished?’ product below and tells me that something about it totally sucks.  I had to throw it in a frame, quickly, because I was starting to get the point where I could over-do and ruin it completely.

Here’s the scanned photo the sketch was based on:

Here’s my interpretation:

So far, only one person (rhymes with ‘other’) who has seen it that has found problems with it.  No, no, not my brother the fantastic artist (actually, he pointed out some strengths and gave tips).  Drawing my own kids was fun, but hard… challenges abounded with this one.  But, most everyone else seems to like it.  Ultimately, I really enjoyed making it.  I forgot how much of a difference it makes in my life.

I wonder if I could combine portrait drawing into photography packages?

Today was a big play day with the kids.  Inside, outside, over, under, there and back again.

Some tidbits:

To “xtroy” something means to annihilate it.  As in, “Mommy, I need to use my light saver to xtroy these flowers to get some more points.”

When one is tired from riding a big wheel while Mommy jogs alongside, the appropriate phrase to rest is, “I need to stop and take a breathe.”  (Not breath, but breathe.  Verbs are the new nouns.)

To “crams” is to get lost, not to be confused with the similar word, “scram”.  As in, “Tell those dogs to crams so that we can have the sidewalk to ourselves.”

Towards the end of the afternoon, I got artsy with the 50mm.  Here in Mobile, I don’t have access to any photo editing, so these are just the straight shots… no edits.  I was playing with the highest aperture available to my beloved 50mm (a dreamy 1.4/f) and most of the pictures are at 1/80 or faster with 100 ISO. With the 50mm on the cropped sensor (1.6x on the 400D), there is a 35mm equivalent of around 81mm.

1978:

My brother, Skipper (now answering to his true name, Tim) and me.  I’m a little older than Kate is right now in this picture.  Billerica, Massachusetts.

This must be the moment that my parents explained that my brother, being the boy, would be financially supported through college and that I was expected to marry well right out of high school.

1979:

Skip and I with our first big wheels.  I rode mine until all the stickers fell off or faded to white and there were holes in the wheels.  The big wheel Skip is on is different than the Hot Wheels tricycle he rode onto the 4-lane high way in the middle of rush hour traffic while my Dad was painting the house.

That’s my grandfather’s German train set under our tree.  Paul and I have that garland (Filene’s basement special — my Mom worked nights at Filene’s).  My Dad gave the trains to my Uncle, who sold them (d’oh!)  This Christmas, my Dad and brother put together parts of the same train, bought used over the past few months on ebay.

1980:

Still in Billerica!  I was a Strawberry Shortcake girl.  I’ve seen that Strawberry and her buds are back… but taller, thinner, shapelier, and with makeup.  Ugh.

1984:

We’d moved to Summerville, SC, by now — but spent this holiday away from home.  This is at my Grandma Betty’s house in Woodstock, VA.  That’s my cousin Becky in Grandma’s lap.

That’s my cousin Stephen.  The same guy who took Will fishing last September.  Remember the necklace?  That’s an Annie locket.  My hair is actually growing out from an Annie perm.  OH YES, a Little Orphan Annie Perm.

That was all I could find in the attic.

Here are some old photos I had backed up my parents’ computer.

2005:

Mobile, Alabama.

2006:

Mobile, Alabama.

2007:

Mobile, Alabama and New Orleans, LA.

2008:

Mobile, Alabama.

I was thinking of photos from our first year in the house, when Paul stripped the hanging doors before Katrina and re-wired the entire house.  Squeaky made me think of electronics, metals, and the sounds of our old house.

Then I saw this picture of Will, mixed in with those early home-improvement days.

And I thought, “mouse,” which is most definitely a squeaky little thing.

So here’s my first born at 17 months.  Back in the days when he could be called squeaky.