roll call

hot summer day? check. sprinkler? check.

friends? check. ice cream? check.

crazy mom layin' on her belly in wet grass? middle child doin' what middle children do best? check. check.


i don't know. i still feel like somethin' is missin'.
oh. yes. a nearly eleven-year-old punk rocker that's way too cool to be hangin' with this crowd. and, of course, a naked baby.

check.


check.

check.


"hi mom. they made me do it."

if i could write a letter... to me.

and by me, i mean the crazy, psycho, lunatic me that comes out about every, oh... 28 days or so. the me that i can feel risin' up from the depths of my uterus. (i apologize to no man. if you're readin' this, you're fair game.) the me that sends husbands and children, near and far, seekin' shelter under the nearest mini-van.

dear (crazy/psycho/lunatic) me,
if you are readin' this, i can tell you exactly what you're thinking. you're thinkin', "why in the world did (cheesy/thinks-she's-so-clever) me write such a stupid post. stupid. stupid. stupid. i can't leave her alone for a moment. she's such a punk-butt."

did i get it 'bout right? i thought so.

anywho, (oops. sorry. i know how much you hate it when i say that.) i just wanted to write this in the hopes you would see these pictures and remember the way things are when you're not around. you see, when you're not around, i find myself amused by the most trivial things. bright colored dirty dishes in a sink of soapy water. a vintage sugar jar and an orange-shaped jelly jar, we got a steal on at goodwill. so, when you read this, and see these pictures, i pray they take you to a happy place. and that they talk you down from whatever ledge you're standin' on. and that they keep you from hangin' scottie up by his toes. and that you don't finish off that jar of nutella. and remember, the sun'll come out tomorrow. or, in this case, about 6 days.





love,
me

capturin' chaos

i guess chaos is not the word i am lookin' for. but, it sounded good. really, i think, chaos is all relative. when kids are small and they need constant care, it feels like total chaos. it's the season of life where you are, hopefully, strong and stedfast. patient and alert. but, as they get older, the chaos is defined differently. it becomes more of an emotional chaos.

either way, you know you wouldn't trade a single second for anything in the world. and, in-fact, you probably do everything you can to slow it down. savor the chaos that is your life.

and, that, is exactly why photography makes me so happy. it captures the chaos.

oh, and happy birthday, kaytlan! ;

well, ain't them the berries.

i have no idea where that term comes from. but, i remember my granny sayin' it. and, so, since this post is about our strawberry pickin' excursion, i thought it quite fitting.









if, let's say, i were a tad bit more organized, i might have read the following warnings and planned our day accordingly.

*berries are to be used immediately, and may be picked any time. but if you plan to hold the fruit for a few days, try to pick in the early morning or on cool, cloudy days. berries picked during the heat of the day become soft, are easily bruised and will not keep well.
*avoid placing picked berries in the sunshine any longer than necessary. It is better to put them in the shade of a tree or shed than in the car trunk or on the car seat. cool them as soon as possible after picking.

well then. that was probably information i should have obtained prior to our outing. because...

by the time we made it home in our mini-van, in 90 degree heat. our strawberries looked more like a crime scene in strawberry shortcake ville. oh well. whatcha gonna do?
maddie made stawberry cake out of warm mushy strawberries. i, however, salvaged the three perfect specimens and had a min-photo-shoot with 'em. one is dessert, and the other is sweet on the eyes. ;)

"knock. knock."

"who's there?"
"jimmy."
"jimmy who?"
"jimmy that cupcake. it's my birthday."

happy birthday my boys!