10 Is my Favorite Number 

Screaming first breaths and counting tiny toes

10 is my favorite number
“Line up on your number, children,” first day of school

10 is my favorite number 
Toeing the line between tom-girl and heels

10 is my favorite number
“Ugh mom, no one else has a curfew on the weekends!”

10 is my favorite number
Tear of joy

Run, twirl

Stop and think

Rinse and repeat
From beginning to end

My little girl forever 

But for now,

10 is my favorite number 

One Liner Lucy

Schools almost out or is out for you. Depends on where you are. I can’t help but fear for next year already. You see, next year Baby et al. begins real preschool at a school she will be at until 3rd grade and with the children she will graduate with.

But Baby et al. has developed a knack for one liners. It’s started soon after she was two when she asked a homeless man at Walmart if he was her daddy. Cute, but embarrassing for mommy. She quickly followed that up when she yelled at an elderly lady at Target, “HEY YOU! Girl! Are you happy?” 

Oh and then she would walk into any room and ask, “popcorn anyone?!” And then not provide popcorn. Which is both deceiving and disappointing. She would also tell obviously fictional stories like, “I got my foot stuck in a volcano!!” I know what you’re thinking. All kids say these things, plus they’re cute. STFU Her et al. 

But then, at her strict Lutheran preschool, she started ending her prayers with either “Love you. Cookies. Amen.” Or “Amen, butterflies.” Her teachers went out of their way to mention it to me, but didn’t seem to care but I was motified.

Plus, look at her: How could this innocent, blonde haired, gray eyed baby doll be anything but flawless.

And she’s yet to say anything worthy of calling DHS….just you wait. She’s learned to top herself with lines like “I had a baby and she ran away.” And “I use to live in a green, green house with lots of green bugs.” And “I use to live in a truck.”

I can see it now, when the DHS lady is conduction her unannounced home visit, Baby et al. will flatter her with “why do you have so many cracks on you face. My Grammy doesn’t have that many cracks because she isn’t as old as you.”  

Annnd this is why I have to keep my house clean. Potential, unannounced DHS visits secondary to bizarre comments from my preschooler.

Professional Deer Photography 

It occurred to me today that I have wanted to photograph deer professionally for my entire life. I just never knew it!

Firstly, I’ll refer you back to older post of mine titled Oh Deer. Please read it, it give you some background into my new found passion.

Ok, you’re back or you ignored my request. Who cares? I don’t.

For some people, photographing nature comes easily. They see something they like, grab their smart phone or other point and shoot and nab their muse for eternity without blinking.

That’s not me.

Today I was riding in the passenger seat of my car going a whopping 10mph in a parking lot when my husband spotted a deer eating so nature like shit.

(And since you’ve read the previous post, you get the whole “me and deer” thang.)

I HAD to get this one. Redeem myself! So we stopped the already slowly moving vehicle.

And I quietly rolled down my window was simultaneously grabbing my phone and I took 500 shots over what seemed like 4 hours before the deer left.

Basically what I want you to understand is that I had plenty of time to get this one right. And literally a gabillion pics to sift through to find the best. 

So behold, the only decent shot:

So I think what I’ve realized is that deer are Gods leftovers or something. Because this one, clearly has no head. He has a fleshy skin layer on a mini marshmallow, on a neck and that’s pretty much it for his noggin. And a leftover baby giraffe neck that connects it to his body. Now we all knew these things were not the brightest beast in the magical forest, so I guess it’s no it surprise!

Currently accepting orders for deer photographs. Contact me for details.

Summer Toddler

She runs into the living room in her Elsa undies with a clump of hair stuck to her cheek by means of juice from her apple.

“Let’s play baby dollies!!” She squeals as one of her naked dolls falls from the pile plastic bodies in her short, plump arms.

This is the first summer she’s truly enjoyed. 

She’s giggled while running into the pool; giggles to drowned out the sound of mommy yelling, “NO RUNNING!” She’s drowned it out so well it became a lesson she learned the hard way, via skinned knee.

She’s thrown her first snap just like the big kids. Only to be startled when she finds it that scary sound is now coming from her.

And she’d have no other way. It’s her way. Just the way she likes it. There’s fire in those steal grey eyes. There’s stories to those sun kissed cheeks and shoulders.

Enjoy this summer, Baby et. al

Oh Deer.

Rush, rush. Such is life. Today was no exception.

It took me one hour for a 45 minute round trip drive to dance. Plus Sissy et al. lost her jazz shoes at a dance competition Saturday, so I had to get her fitted for a new pair. I budgeted 10 seconds for this task. Sounds about right.

How does one lose a part of their wardrobe through the course of the day? Seriously? How do you not notice you’re barefoot?

But I digress. Today’s timeline:

4:45-sissy et al. to dance

4:46-buy sissy et al. new jazz shoes, Capezio, Carmel, slip on

4:47-weep💧buh-bye $38.52

4:47:30-be at home to meet with realtor. (Potentially slight exaggeration to my timeline….let that be known)

So, what’s a gal to do when she’s running late? In rush hour?

Well if you’re anything like me, you stop to take a fracking picture.

Of deer.

Just hanging out on the side of the road. Eating shit off the ground…the deer were eating shit off the ground, not I.

Because at exactly 4:47:29-Her et al. morphed into a famous, high end, artistic, nature photographer.

Me, myself, and my outdated iPhone…..and two unexpecting deer.

(Note to my readers. At this exact moment, I lost the ability to pronounce ‘musician’ in a non blog convo which made me laugh until I nearly peed. Also, I needed to use spell check on musician.)

Where was I? Ah, yes. Deer. Now before you all bombard me with prices for prints and autographs, allow me to post my beautiful work piece, entitled “Oh Deer.”

The inspiration for this piece is deer (obviously), but I also think it coveys the societal need to just slow down. Smell the roses. Take a picture of the phucking deer.

Tell me when you’re done laughing. Ok, good. Now I’d like to point out a couple of attributes of my photo.

#1-I see two bodies and one head. I must confess that I do remember seeing two bodies when I took the pic. But I cannot say, without reasonable doubt, that there were two heads.

I assume the head goes with the body on the right and ass in the back is eating and was hidden behind the front deer. But I’m not totally writing off the possibility of a headless deer. And we’ll just leave it at that.

#2-Scroll back up and look at its face and then meet me back down here when you’re done.

Since when did deer have faces that looks like a 5 year old drew it? Mind you, that’s unedited pals, his mug is just straight up circles.

I can picture God, (now, I’m sure he was tired from creating…everything,) “Eh, geez….deer, um, lets just put three circles inside one big circle for this one and let’s move on. Bam.” Maybe that’s the reason for the headless deer. Who know?

Comment if you’re interested in your own “Oh Deer.” SIGNED print! I’ll warn the printer!