Happy New Year

I didn't do this last year... was in some kind of slump, so I skipped it.  I felt sad about that because this is my thing.  Maybe not worth bragging about, but... we do it because I like it.

It's my way of welcoming in the new year.  

Welcome to 2016.

Last Day of 2015

Yikes! After tonight the year is over.

People tend at this time of year to look back over the past 365 days and evaluate it... attempt to summarize it... even make promises or goals for the coming year.  I respect that.  I'm just not one to do that.

I don't mean to be flippant here, really.  I don't.  It's just not me.  I get bogged down in morose aspects of it, relive embarrassing moments wherein I want to hide away from society altogether, or cringe with regret about my thoughtless antics.

You see, I'm flawed.  I have regrets.  I make mistakes.  But those don't discount all the good that exists either.  So instead of getting caught up in the past year, I'm focusing on the present... what's good in it that grounds me, anchors me, keeps me here.

Happy New Year!

Messes And Other Little Things

Hey, look!  It's 2013 already!  HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

The holidays have flown by, along with another month, once again.  Why does each year seem to get shorter and shorter?  It's frightening, really.

We ended one year and started another with a (quiet) bang.



Following our ritualistic abuse of a banana with a Sharpie, we spent much of the past two days just us two.  Daddy is back at work up north, as he is two-thirds of the time, so we're pretty used to Mummy-boy time.  It's good.



No, with all the stuff that's happened in the past year, it's more than good.  It's REALLY GOOD.  Soul-warming, heart-filling good.  Being with each other and connecting in all the lego-star wars-dinky cars-skating-toboganning-monopoly-cards playing-reading to each other ways.

Looking around at the hats and mitts and toys and games and boxes and cups littering what seems to be every square inch of the house, it kind of hit home for me last night leaving my mind to rocket with thoughts and words that needed to fly and my crochet-busy fingers itching to hit the keyboard.

Little things.

It comes down to the little things of which the debris of the moments speak...  Words left unsaid.  Kindnesses undone.  Efforts not made.  Conclusions jumped to.  Feelings not considered.  People left out.  A conversation that really needed to happen.  Time spent.  A helping hand.  The laughter.  Someone listened.  Walls dropped. Forgiveness born.

Friendships left to wither because of the little things.  Relationships nurtured by the little things.  Moments created that live in our memories as long as we have them.

In the end, I look around the endlessly messy rooms (didn't I just clean this up? or am I really this lazy?) and I realize it is nothing more than the setting of this life.  Nothing more or less than the staging for what happens in these walls.  The messes that are left speak of the moments that are meaningful.  In the end, I don't care that I'm not fastidious in my housecleaning.

(Actually, there'd have to be housecleaning happening in order to rate it.  And there isn't.)

The people who would judge me on that, or any other thing, are not the people who matter.

The people who judge me on what I eat or (more importantly) don't eat, don't matter.  Or on the amount of alcohol I choose to NOT have.  Or on the makeup of my family.  Or the activities we do or don't do.

Who knew a small town could be so judge-y?  (Keep your groans to yourself.)

This year has been a year of peeling back layers.  Exploring and rediscovering what lies under the preconceptions and misjudgements.  Yes, I make them too.  Finding out yet again who I am, and that it is US that matters.  WE do.  The person I am and the people that make up my family.  We are here in this every day... supporting each other, tearing each other down, building each other up, encouraging each other, and sometimes even standing back and letting someone fail or win on their own.  Life is dirty and painful and unpleasant at times.  We are only as good at it as we allow ourselves to be.

And in the end, it takes relaxing, looking around at the little things that make up our lives; the messes and laundry and toys not put away, and they all testify to moments lived hard and good.  

In the end, we forget the messes and remember the moments.

Merry Merry!

It's a little late, but...



Merry Christmas!

Beginnings

Celebrating Christmas brings a baby to mind. (Don't you think?)

Not that this baby was born on Christmas day.

(But then, neither was that one.)

Anyways.

Bringing us around to another celebration of life.

Celebrating beginnings.

Another new start.

Another new year.

A book of blank pages to write in.

A new set of dreams to believe in and follow. (Or give those trusty old ones a good dusting and polishing and follow them anew.)

However you want to look at it or unwrap it...

... it's about new hope.

Faith in a new day and a new year.

New beginnings.

What's new for you this year?

Merry Christmas!

Because this blog needs a "Merry Christmas, one and all!" post, I give you...

... photos from our excursion to The Nutcracker ballet performance with good friends.

You can dress him up, but can you really take him out?

He thought it was awesome. There were guns, a cannon, swordfights, and evil rats. The best Christmas story ever, according to some.

Yes, it was awesome.

From our family to yours: the Merriest of all Christmases to you!

Bokeh Lights And Action

A shot taken yesterday... playing with last year's Christmas gift... (the bokeh lights are only one of my favorite things about this photo)...

(above image: SOOC)

Moments like these are what make my ordinary days extraordinary.

Christmas, Baby!

Oh yeah, we have our tree up. We're not those people who put their tree up super early because they just can't help themselves and have to do it right away before it's decently the right time.

Except that this year we are those people.

And I'm okay with that. In fact, I've always wanted to be those people, but real trees don't last that long. Especially in a warm house by the fireplace. But last year we had to replace our real tree the day after we put it up because an un-named cat, new to our house (that's right, you, Ayanna), rapidly scaled the very real tree and proceeded to split the trunk right in two, stripping off branches and scattering ornaments through the entire downstairs.

You can't say that our whole household doesn't get into the spirit of the season.

A fake tree is much sturdier and, unlike it's real counterpart, doesn't dry out and become super-fragile. Hence, we got the tree up last week. (Insert crazy cackle.)

Enjoy.

Hallowe'en Sunrise

Because I just can't leave well enough alone...

Happy Hallowe'en!

Celebrating With The Banana-Heads

We're at the tail end of the year. Christmas is done. Winter has started. We're still here, surviving.

As with last year I am making no resolutions. We're already doing our best each day, and making the most of it. Such as wearing bananas on our heads to celebrate. (It's a thing... just go with it.)

And this, my friends, is where we're at.

Happy 2011!

Good Lord, Are The Holidays Almost Over?!

Summing up the holidays...

Making ginger stars

Cookies for Santa

(but, look what Rudolph left on the back cookie)

New toy and sweater, but can't pry him out of his long johns

(Jedi knights wear pajamas, too, don't they?)

So much "awwwww!" in this picture. The love of a boy and his cat...

Okay, wait. Maybe not so much love coming from the cat. It looks more like resignation and "what did I do in a previous life to deserve this?!"

Good thing someone is oblivious... his joy remains undiminished.

That's not all, folks.

But I don't want to overwhelm with too much good stuff.

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Alien Snowmen Came For Christmas

I wish I could write something witty, but I haven't had enough to drink tonight. I can't bring myself to be sarcastic, because I'm actually feeling somewhat connected to the universe. Or... I was until I had a few drinks.

I'll leave you with this until next time. (See Rudolf looking disapprovingly, as well as a bit bemused, at our creation?)

It would make a great headline: "Alien snowman invades Canadian Christmas!" or something better because the people who write headlines are paid to write good ones, not like me sitting here not having had enough to drink and unable to come up with anything remotely interesting let alone attention-grabbing.

But making these alien snowmen was fascinating. Here's a hint for your future treat-making endeavors: don't put food coloring in the Rice Krispie treats... it makes them smell like unwashed feet and taste even funkier (not that I would know, personally) .... and you're never going to get the color right.

This was our attempt at red. We used most of the bottle of color.

And I didn't adjust the saturation in this photo.

AND this monstrosity is still sitting on my counter because my little alien-maker isn't ready to throw it out. He insists he's going to eat it. But... it has yet to be eaten. He can't seem to make himself do it. I don't blame him... the thing is sagging off to one side and looks like it's going to ooze onto the floor and scurry out the door.

Great. Now I won't be able to sleep tonight.

Happy holidays, folks.

Being Present

Let's keep this short and sweet ... like Christmas. At least, when it's over it feels like it was so short.

Christmas vacation, however, starts out NOT feeling short and sweet ... as anyone with a schoolage (even preschoolage) child knows. As someone who just wants to relax and do her own thing, often involving some factors called "peace" and "quiet" which are exceedingly rare in houses wherein children reside. Yes, the selfish part of me wants that. Don't worry, I'm beating myself up over it enough so there's no need to give me the evil eye anymore.

It's hard staying in the present. It's hard letting go of what I want to do, and surrender to the child. My child lives out loud. All day. Every day. My inner child, however, hides quietly and is not easy to find. But that's okay. I don't need her. All I need to do is put away the "shoulds" and "wanna's" and embrace the noise. And the tylenol. (Maybe the valium when I need it.)

That is my biggest present to my son this year: working harder on being present.

What I wish for all of you, too -- being able to put aside concerns, worries, and whatever keeps you from relaxing and enjoying what's right there.

So, from me to you:

SOOC:

Some details on the edit: The glare on the glasses was not something I could see or anticipate (because I didn't take the picture... a friend did), and was not technically fixable. I had to zoom in between 800% and 1200% and recreate his eye, pixel by pixel group. It's far from a perfect job and doesn't really look very natural, but it looks better than the glare. Then I selectively brightened and darkened it, corrected for skin tone and brightened the eyes. I heart Elements!

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Taken with my Canon Rebel XSi, and edited with PS Elements.

Update On Santa

So, keeping things in the spirit of the season, I remind Evan daily that Santa is watching his behavior and Ayanna is sending daily updates on how nice he is to her as well. (He's not mean to her; he just doesn't understand that she doesn't want him to carry her around all the time and cuddle her that hard. That's all.)

Also, I told him tonight after the story was read (The Night Before Christmas) that if all little boys and girls go right to sleep on the nights before Christmas, Santa will send a special dream to them. (I'm working it, friends; hey, he asked for it with the whole believing in Santa myth.)

Wouldn't you know -- he went right to sleep.

I've got all kinds of these gems up my sleeve. And I'm going to use them all. *evil laugh*

I love this season! Cheers!

Gingerbread House

Continuing to be busy, I'm setting my photography on the back burner. Way at the very back where I can hardly see it and I don't even set it to simmer.

Instead, I'm working on making some more Christmas memories with the boy. Because he's only four and three-quarters once, right? And besides, when he's not whining or making other rude noises, he's pretty darn cute.

Here we decorated a gingerbread house. It was a kit. I was very disappointed. Next year, I'm making it from scratch, and if it ends up looking like the first little pig's house after the big bad wolf got through with it, I'm okay with that.

Of course, Evan has his fun sneaking treats off it over the course of days, so he's still enjoying it.

SOOC:

Here's my rework of this pretty little scene. Aside from a few soft light color layers to enhance the light, I didn't want to do too much to it. I mainly wanted to get rid of that hoodie hanging on the back of the chair. It's out of place. Of course, now it looks like he's floating in mid-air, but still an improvement. Floating is a super-power, I guess. And apparently, sneaking sugarballs off the gingerbread house so that I don't notice is also a super-power.

At least, he thinks he's sneaky.

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Taken with my Canon Rebel XSi, and edited with PS Elements.

And More Christmas

Whew! The wrapping is done. That is, all the wrapping except for the gift from *Santa*. I need to get different wrapping paper and a completely different style of bow. You know, to further the myth.

Speaking of which, I ran into a big problem the other week. It's one of those things that is on my mind and aggravates the heck out of me.

It's Santa.

"You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry, you'd better not shout, I'm telling you why;"

That's right. The red-suited old clown who insists on hood-winking young children into behaving. It's actually kinda creepy how "he knows if you are sleeping; he knows if you're awake; he knows if you've been bad or good..." If some old red-velvet clothed dude who sees me when I'm sleeping told me to hop on his lap and offered me candy you'd bet I'd scream and run. Which is probably why this happened:

And then when I asked him to smile, I got this:

The blur is my own fault. I was giggling to hard to hold the camera steady.

Don't misunderstand -- Evan was more than happy to go to see Santa. He asked for it; he wanted to. He couldn't imagine anything better. But when it came time, he froze. I say those are good instincts. Even though we're in public and mommy is right here, if you're uncomfortable, say so.

Afterwards, though, he was unhappy that he forgot to tell Santa what he wanted for Christmas.

Which brings me right around to the rest of this: I didn't want him to believe in Santa. From his first Christmas I've explained (because a 9-month-old understands these things) that Santa Claus is a cultural icon, representing the spirit of giving and goodwill, and fabricated around the saint who saved hundreds of children from slavery in the middle ages. In a nutshell. Of course he forgot about it because he mind cannot retain any pertinent information unless it's about one of his hobbies or how mean I am (which is a hobby in itself).

I tried to explain it all again to him this year, however the massive inpouring of cultural specificity regarding this joyous season overwhelmed him and rendered this subject taboo. And, of course, I'm mean for suggesting it.

Also, in a nutshell, he cried.

"There's no Santa?"

"Um, do you want me to lie to you?"

"What?"

"Would you rather I lie to you about Santa and tell you what you want to hear, or do you want the truth?"

"I want you to lie to me."

So that's how it is around here. I think deep down he knows there's no Santa, but for now, he'd like there to be one. And now I'm left holding the bag and supporting the myth.

He wants me to pretend? Okay, I'll pretend! We're going all out: the letter to Santa, the email from Santa, the rules and regulations about behavior and expectations that Santa has of young children, the cookies and milk (or in our case, the cupcakes and juice -- my preference), the cats being Santa's spies on behavior, etc. I'm working it.

"... so be good for goodness sake!"

Trust me, I'm using it completely for my advantage.

Copycat... And Other Stuff

So, I'm finding all kinds of challenging ideas in photography lately. In the realm of creative and artistic, rather than financial or quantity. Which is okay, because I'm busy enough anyway, right?

Something I saw over at Ramblings and Photos was Ashley's version of this lens trick. I call it a trick because I was all "Whoa!" and "Cool!" and "I wish I could do that!" And so I did it. Or I tried to, anyways.

And isn't it the attempt that counts? (Please be kind!)

Notice the cool way I've "stabled" (as my 4 year old says) the lens between the covers? It's all about strategy and style. But I have no idea what happened to the lower bokeh in the photo. It's kind of sad, really.

I can't remember where I saw the starburst photos or tutorial, but I got all motivated a couple of days ago and made another photography attempt.

Who knew that there was use for the higher aperture settings (or smaller aperture, if you prefer)? Turns out, it makes pretty cool effects. I'm loving the learning.

Also, talking about learning... I just read The Betrayal by Kathleen O'Neal Gear and W. Micheal Gear. Heretical or fringe, whatever... I couldn't put it down. Even if you don't agree with the ideas presented, it's worth a read... at least for the provocative factual footnotes in the back (the best part of the book).

Hope your week is full of holiday fun and relaxing cheer.

Bokeh

Here's for more holiday spirit. Just feels like it, you know?

* * * * * * * * * * *

I Blinked... And Two And A Half Weeks Disappeared

It's been awhile, but... I'm still here! Life is crazy... busy crazy. Yet I'm still here.

Here's some stuff that's been happening:

Most recent: I received a very cool thing in the mail. I was lucky enough to win (and Colleen was kind enough to "let me win") this great t-shirt from as is proper. It's way too big on my son -- it goes down to his knees. But he won't take it off. At least, it took a lot of convincing to take it off for washing after wearing for 3 days straight. After all, it is his favorite color.

And yes, every moment continues to be a photo op.

Colleen: thank you! You made me (and my boy) very happy. :D

Ayanna continues to adjust quite nicely to our home. We're so busy playing with her (and doing other stuff) that I really don't have any new photos of her. It's too bad because she's so darn cute. Note to self: take more photos of Ayanna!

Actually, lately I haven't been taking many photos of anything. To say it's because I've been busy is something of an understatement. There've been dentist appointments and daycare drama and stress and work and Christmas preparation and more stress and trying to remember what it is I'm supposed to be doing. It takes a lot of energy, and I'm a whole lot more disorganized than I used to be.

One of the biggest distractions is: my son. He's so darn cute and annoying at the same time. The annoying part is mostly because I don't have as much time to devote to all the other little things in my life and he requires so much more time lately than he used to, which is causing me stress. Is this a phase? A new developmental stage? Or just a change in the weather? There's much less outside time for us, so maybe he needs more "exercise". Hmmm.... I hope it snows more soon; I can get him to shovel the driveway!

And our weather has been crazy. Here's how a few weeks ago went (celsius, with farenheit in brackets):

Monday: -8 (17.6)

Tuesday: -15 (5)

Wednesday: -43 (-45)

Thursday: -12 (10.4)

Friday: 7 (44.6)

Does that seem weird to anyone?

Also, did I forget to mention the flu? The stomach flu? Twice? Thank goodness I remembered the oregano oil in time! Of course, Evan doesn't like to take it and I don't force him, but it kept me upright so I could keep doing laundry. And cleaning up vomit. And cleaning the toilets.

Tangent: How is it that a boy completely happy to roll in the dirt and pick his nose is fussy about where he vomits? No matter how much the toilet is bleached and scrubbed it's not good enough to vomit in? Apparently the floor in the kitchen, the floor in the hall, his bedroom carpet, the living room carpet, and the carpeted floor beside my bed are all his first, second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth choice. (He threw up more than once in a certain location. I'll leave it for you to guess.) He did make it to the toilet for the first incident. But that grossed him out from using it again. Go figure.

So, I'm moving on and leaving the vomit behind.

First thing to tackle: Christmas cards. I've got them ready, I've just got to do them.

Second thing: everything else.

Wish me luck. (I think I'll need it.)