by Sarah | Sep 12, 2010 | All About Family, Photography, Weekly Winners
All taken w/ Canon Rebel XTi.
For week 9/06-9/11/10
Title of this weeks Weekly Winners in honor of the first three pictures. They prove that one moment in time can be all it takes to capture beauty & perfection. And it doesn’t need editing. These first three pictures are also SOOC – only editing for size (and a minor crop on the second picture)
I See You
I Wonder Where She Goes –
And if she’ll ever be able to tell us
Classically Handsome
(Once again my nephew “Poochee”. He was just too handsome in this picture)
That’s it for the ‘one moment’ pictures…just two other winners this week. I had so many other pictures that I liked – but this week I’m just posting those that I LOVED for one reason or another…otherwise this page would get way too slow loading!
On the Line
Excitement in a Test Tube
(Post on these coming later this week)
That’s it for this week! I was dangerously close to putting about 15-20 pictures up. So I forced myself to narrow it down. This is about ‘winners’ after all…I can’t be putting up every picture I have 😉
For more great photos, head on over to Lotus‘ place. She is the brainchild of this activity, after all. You’ll find no shortage of brilliance on her site, or in her linky. (Wait, that sounded kinda dirty).
by Sarah | Sep 11, 2010 | All About Family, All About Me
I posted this last year at this time. I’m re-posting it. I am adding a little to it, but it will mostly remain the same.
I know what today is. I know what it means to our country. I remember every detail of 2001 in vivid detail…but since before 2001, this date has been difficult for me, for my family…in 1996 my family’s core was lost, the heart of us…my grandfather…so my post on 9/11 is for him. Oh, and at surface glance I hate this picture of me, but then I see the pure joy on my face dancing with my grandfather and aesthetics be damned, it’s my favorite picture.
It was his birthday. I was young and such a very short kid…and he was TALL. I remember watching him put our coats in the closet and staring up, up, up at him and asking, “How tall are you?” With his sparkling eyes and laugh he informed me that he was over 6′. My eyes grew wide, and all I could say was, “But you’re so close to the ceiling! If you have ANY more birthdays you’ll go right through!”
His chair sat by the front door and the minute he sat the race was on – who would get the privilege of sitting on his lap, carrying on as deep a conversation as a child was capable of. Who would get to play with his round pot belly, and listen to his laughter.
He worked for GM and he was proud of it, and so were we.
When I close my eyes I can still smell his pipe and see the pipe carousel on his dresser. I can smell the cigarettes that he and grandma smoked.
I remember that after he retired he would watch soap operas during lunch.
And I remember the weddings – when my cousin and I would trade off and share him for the dance. “Grampa” by the Judds.
I remember his smile.
I remember his belly.
I remember the strength that he always carried in his soul and body.
I remember the pain that shot through my heart at the word…”cancer”. Once it was uttered it was less than a year. 10 months.
I remember the first time I saw him in the hospital-and how I had to run from the room because it made me physically ill to see my big strong grandfather lying in a bed weak and hooked up to tubes.
I remember his fight.
I remember when it was acknowledged in our hearts that the time to fight was over.
I remember how he held on – hours past when we thought we would lose him – because he would not let go until he’d gotten to hear the good-bye of all of his grandchildren, and my brother had been in surgery for his shattered wrist. Half an hour after the final phone call, he was gone.
I remember the sound of the tennis balls scattering across the hallway when my professor’s assistant walked up asking if she knew where I was…and all I could do was run to my car to get home as soon as I could.
From there it’s a blur…a long car ride from NC to NY. The arrangements. The funeral home. The droves of people I didn’t know, but who all knew him, overflowing the room.
The pain has lessened, resorted to a memory. For the most part I remember the love, the good things, the joy. But on this day every year the pain comes back to the forefront.
This year the pain seems so much stronger – now that Grandma has gone to join him. Refreshed and renewed. Now they are together forever, but they will always be here in our hearts.
We love you still, and will always love you, Grampa.
by Sarah | Sep 9, 2010 | All About Home, All About Me
When I was growing up I would dream of the perfect home. The delusions of grandeur always led me to a Victorian/Queen Anne style of home. I would pour over floor plans in magazines, imagining the ‘perfect’ house.
<<<–It always looked similar to this one. I would have a sewing room/library. A playroom for our children. The house would be decorated in vintage furniture. It would be in the middle of nowhere – but close enough to town that we wouldn’t be isolated.
I had everything planned out.
Perfection.
What dreams I had.
These days I look at a home like this and still wonder at it’s beauty…
But the realist in me snorts and says “But who’s going to clean it? Not me.”
These days my dreams are different. Our house is meant as a starter home, not for a family of five. Yes, as my Mom and Aunt pointed out this weekend their family of five did it with 150sqft LESS than we have – but this is about my dream home…
I don’t want a lot of space. Just a room or two more than we have now. Room for the kids to breath, the girls to have their own rooms, an office for the computers.
These days my dream home looks a lot more like this.–>>
Funny enough, it’s almost identical to the home I grew up in. A simple cape cod, a second story with the Master on the first and the kids upstairs. I’d survive w/ one bathroom (we do anyhow, we never use our second), but would love two.
Enough room to breathe. To not trip over each other.
Where would this home be?
Well, right here of course. In the exact same place our current house is. This neighborhood and our neighbors are not anything I want to give up. I love it here. I have my issues with Indiana (really, hoosier is NOT a real word, people…and my issues w/ the school district we’re in are documented)…but I love my neighborhood. My friends. Our property taxes cannot currently be beat (*knocks on wood*).
Why would I want to be anywhere else?
Just a simple home for our family. That is the dream.
********
This post was brought to you thanks to MamaKat’s prompts. Head on over to check out some others!!
by Sarah | Sep 8, 2010 | All About Me, Crap
by Sarah | Sep 5, 2010 | Photography, Weekly Winners
All taken w/ Canon Rebel XTi.
For week 8/30-9/05/10
21st Place/ 14:38
24th (Out of 60, raced against 2 teams)/ 14:14
A beautiful place for a meet
On Hummingbird Lane
Swinging
Focus
Deep Focus
Hairs w/ Homemade Flowers
Unique Beauty
Weekly Winners is the brain child of the Sarcastic Mom, Lotus. Head on over to her site for more wonderful winners to visit!!
by Sarah | Sep 3, 2010 | All About Erik, All About Molly, Autism, Crap, Fatherhood Fridays
This is not our first Fatherhood Friday. It’s just been a long time since Archie stepped up to this plate. I asked him to write a post on this subject, and have asked him to try to continue writing posts as time/inspiration allows. It’s always nice to get the other perspective from time to time 🙂
I’m writing this for a second point of view on our concerns for our daughter who has just started school.
I would like to say first of all that although my wife and I don’t agree on every aspect, I love her and respect what she has to say. No exceptions. I love our kids the same way, with no exceptions. Maybe I love them in different ways than each other, but no more or no less than the others. This will be about our middle child, Riley.
I knew the day would come where Riley would be old enough to go to school. My wife championed homeschooling, while I am a public education proponent. We both had sound logic in our choices, but eventually one of us would have to give way. Being small and comforting, the h/s milieu would provide stability and support as well as routine for Riley, as she loved things to be repetitious and consistent. Public school would give her interaction with other kids, lots of them, and would help her to mainstream, just be a standard kid.
By sheer persistence, I wore down Sarah to the point she would go along with me, albeit unconvinced I was making a good decision for Riley. So, she went to school.
Within the first few weeks, Riley lost her ability to remain calm. At school, the excessive noise(holy god, kindergarten is insanely noisy), the shuffling of many small bodies, the closeness of the setting, and the newness of it all burned through her coping mechanisms like wildfire. She literally hasn’t any defenses left. Any accomplishments she might make, are made nil by erratic behavior. She is suffering, trying desperately to keep from drowning, while the waves are just getting bigger.
At home, Riley isn’t much different. At times, she is silent, inconsistent, demanding, inconsolable, loud, and will take her stress out on the rest of us without warning. Those are a lot of harsh adjectives to describe my sweet, little girl. Make no mistake, I love my Riley more than the human heart is actually capable of handling.
And that was my downfall. I so wanted the “perfect”, “normal” life for her, that I became blind to who she was becoming in her own right. Before school began, we had a little girl, who despite being diagnosed as autistic, was capable of emotions and moods in the range of everyone else. Yes, at times she was a pistol. And there were some problems we were not capable of handling. But she was the best little girl she was ever capable of being, and more. And I overlooked it.
It’s easy to see where I went wrong, because I just wanted the best for Riley and didn’t want her to be burdened with the struggles I encountered at her age. But she isn’t me. She is her own, beautiful little person that has her own path to make. We will find the best way for her, with her as a guide to help us make sure we keep her first and us second. And her sister is coming along right behind with other special issues that will need to be met. So, this will help in the long run.
But I have the guilt of betraying my daughters faith and trust in me, I let her down. And I also have the guilt of letting my wife down by not listening to what she was telling me. As a parent, we all silently beat ourselves up over things we do to our kids that we wish didn’t.
So, here I am. I’m sorry, Riley, for not keeping you first and putting you in bad situation. And I’m sorry, Sarah, for not being the husband and father I should always strive to be. But, I promise to do better. I love you guys.
****
*Must note – the picture above is a meld. On the left is Archie as a young boy, on the right, Riley.
