i just stumbled across this piece that i wrote a couple of years ago.   and realized that my 5th grade teacher was mrs. clover and mrs. wolfe was my third grade teacher.  and then i remembered that 7 x 8 was the hardest "times" on the multiplication table for me.  that's probably the only one i still know!  since i found it again and never really published it, here it is:  

http://blogs.chron.com/goodmombadmom/2010/12/the_beauty_of_different.html#comments

a few days ago i read the article linked above and all of the beautiful comments left there, and it really affected me and reminded me of something that i wanted to share with all of you.  i wanted to share it so much that i stayed up late last night writing this.  (i am a dork and i like that about myself :)

when i was in the fifth grade, a classmate's mother died.   when the girl came back to school, our teacher, mrs. wolfe, stood at the blackboard and welcomed the girl, nancy, back to class and explained to the rest of us that nancy's mother had passed away.  mrs. wolfe went on to say that nancy's mother was a kind, beautiful lady whose loss would be felt by her family and our community.   of course, i felt very sorry for nancy.  but i thought it odd that mrs. wolfe, who i thought was beautiful (she was probably all of 25 at the time!), said that nancy's mom was beautiful.   i had seen nancy's mom at school.  she was one of the homeroom moms our third grade year.  i didn't think nancy's mom was beautiful.  or even pretty, in fact.  nancy's mom had red hair and freckles, wore horn-rimmed glasses, had old-fashioned bouffanty hair and a big mole on her cheek.  not like the tiny dark ones that my mom and i are covered with, but one that stuck up from her cheek almost like a wart.  i didn't think that she was beautiful at all.   farrah fawcett and cher were beautiful.  i remember that my dad thought catherine deneuve was beautiful.  but nancy's mom?  certainly very nice, but not beautiful. 

and now, some thirty-odd years later, this is what i've learned. 

beauty is not found in the features of your face or how those features fit together.  it is not found in the color of your skin or your eyes or your hair.  while the female form is a work of art, beauty is not found in your figure; it is not measured by your weight or height.  beauty is not in the clothes that you wear or how skillfully you apply your makeup.  beauty is not the jewelry you put on or the purse that you carry on your arm. 

beauty is in your smile and in your heart, in the words you say and how you say them.  it's in the way you treat people, those you love and those you don't know.  beauty is in how you carry yourself, head up and shoulders back, ready to face whatever lies in your path.  beauty is in your spirit; it is beautiful to wake up in the morning with a sense of gratitude that you've been given another day, another chance to get it right (as ben harper says).  beauty is in our scars and wounds and disappointments and most especially in the way that we overcome them and embrace them, for they strengthen us. 

i borrowed the following comment from jenny's article because it jumped off the page at me, almost as if it wanted me to read it and remember it. 

"I'm beautiful because nowhere else in the world does there exist the peculiar and particular combination of ideas, talents, desires, weirdnesses, snark, failures, successes, hopes, poofy hair, and 'fun size'-edness that exists in me.  I'm one of a kind, and rarity is beautiful."

so, to all of you women that i love, remember - you are SMART.  and DIFFERENT.  and STRONG.  and LOVING.  and PROUD.  and KIND.  and CAPABLE.  and BEAUTIFUL.  and so was nancy's mom. 

the first year

isn't it silly to think of a first birthday party as the end of something? that seems, like, really wrong. yet that's how it's playing out in my head.

this past year went by SO faaaaast. someone said at ava's birthday party that they still felt like we were hanging out at the hospital for 22 or 23 hours, waiting on her TO HURRY UP AND GET HERE!!

that one day and night seemed to take forever. all of us in the waiting room, taking turns going back to check on josh and danielle, the smokers sneaking outside to smoke, the trips across the parking lot in the cold night to chili's for coffee and dessert and then more coffee, the people who had to go home and those of us that stayed, waiting patiently, wandering around a hospital that was a little like a ghost town at night, taking catnaps in the dark lobby, and then around 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning, still waiting but less patiently, feeling very excited and very tired at the same time. the cell phone calls from the delivery suite to the waiting room... and then FINALLY....

she was mad!

all of that seems like it happened yesterday. maybe because it was such a momentous day, maybe because we were there for so long or because we were all so damn happy when she finally arrived, healthy and pink, and everythingandeveryoneisfineandwhew!whatarelief!!, but every detail of that night remains razor sharp in my memory, as if it will never fade.

it seems almost impossible that we've gone through a whole cycle of seasons and holidays, but ava is walking proof that it's true. she's taken her picture with the easter bunny, watched her first fireworks, watched daddy carve a pumpkin, looked at the pretty lights on the christmas tree and i'm sure her mommy whispered happy new year in her ear.

so, her first year has come and gone in a blur and, in some way, it does feel like an end or maybe just a completion. she's done with being a baby, and now she's a toddler and pretty soon she'll be a first grader and then a teenager and god, i hope all the years don't go by as quickly as the first one did!

oh, nannie, you're so dramatic!

and while i may seem a little melancholy about the end of it, year ONE was a tremendous amount of fun. watch!

This slideshow personalized with Smilebox

New Orleans Photography

It's Only Life Photography: My Photography: "Click here to view this photo book."

oh my god, y'all... someone bought my book! i didn't even buy my book!!

when it got somewhat "cool" last september, as cool as it can be in september in southeast texas (which is not very cool), i started walking at the dirt track at the local middle school.  my husband went with me the first few times i walked...  i guess to make sure i didn't have a heart attack and die all alone on a dirt track.  i'm not in very good shape; his concerns were probably valid.  after we both felt safe that i would return in one piece from my "workout", i walked almost every day.  i would change clothes and get back in the truck within five or ten minutes of getting home from work because i knew if i stalled any longer than that, i would skip the walking and end up in bed before 7:00.  because i love my bed and i feel like it misses me during the day. 

the first week or so, i walked roughly a mile each time and whenever i thought i would fall over from exhaustion (and from being completely out of shape), i would make myself do just one more lap.  over september and october, i slowly increased the laps and eventually could walk three to four miles.  every single time, the first mile was the hardest.  by the second mile, my shin splints and muscle cramps would pretty much work themselves out and by the last few laps, i felt great.  i mean, really great.  with my earbuds playing all my favorite music and a cool(ish) breeze blowing on my face, i felt like i could walk another ten miles if only i had the time. 

then it started getting dark earlier and the track at the middle school has no lights and it's kind of isolated and i got a little nervous walking in the near dark, so i tried different tracks on my way home from work but never really found anywhere else that i liked to walk.  i thought about joining a gym, but finally admitted to myself that i'm way too self-conscious to do any kind of exercise in front of other people, even people i don't know. 

so, new years rolled around and i knew i wanted to start doing some kind of exercise again.  for a few weeks, i debated in my head....  gym (with strangers and their germs and their eyes looking at me and their brains thinking "wow, she really walks slow!") vs. home treadmill (in the privacy of my home, in front of my tv, where i could hop on at any time and no one would see except for the dog and she and i have a close relationship...  we keep each other's secrets).  i carefully weighed the pros and cons of each and then flipped a coin.  after diligent research, i spent my vacation check on a treadmill.  with all the bells and whistles and the iFit module so that I can view the Seine as i walk.  and of course, keep track of my progress and download workouts and really just to view the Seine as i walk.  i feel pretty sure i can walk longer if i'm looking at something pretty. 

it took a month for the thing to come in, almost long enough for me to lose my new years' resolvedness.  and it's huge!  we had to move every piece of furniture in one of the spare bedrooms to make room for it and it looks a little space alienish in here.  but it's going to help me shape up, so i've willingly sacrificed my perfectly balanced room for a hopefully better balanced body.  so far, i've logged 5 miles over 3 days.  apparently, the last three months have been hard on my body!  my legs hurt and my knee hurts and i have absolutely no stamina.  jillian michaels keeps yelling at me and telling me not to stop but since i'm barely moving anyway, i don't think she notices when i ignore her.  i'm in really bad shape!  but i'm going to work on that.  i feel positive about my space alien in the blue bedroom.   i know it will take dedication and determination and those are not words i would use to describe myself, but i've made up my mind.  and that's usually half the battle.  wish me luck!

the littlest birds sing the prettiest songs

i love music, always have.  when i was 8 or 9, my dad, without knowing it, taught me how to listen to music.  my sister and i had a large upstairs bedroom that we shared, decorated in pn-g purple and white, complete with a 4-foot ceramic indian (native american, i guess i should say now) that my mom hand-painted.  it was a great room, very 1975. 

sometimes my dad would come upstairs to listen to our stereo.  he would put in a rod stewart 8-track, sit up against the wall with his legs straight out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, close his eyes and listen to mandolin wind and maggie may and you wear it well.  and i would sit with him and close my eyes and listen too.  you hear so much more with your eyes closed.  still love rod stewart (not the new “tony bennett” rod stewart – i’m loyal to gasoline alley rod stewart), but in the past couple of years, my taste in music has changed quite a lot. 

i discovered such wonderful artists like patty griffin, brandi carlile, the be good tanyas, who perform the "the littlest birds", which i love but which completely irritates my brother whenever he calls my cell (added bonus points!), chris pureka, sera cahoone and so many others.  their music is described as americana or folk, or alternative folk and sometimes folk rock.  it’s very sparse acoustic stuff, with some fiddle and a flute or clarinet here and there.  it’s beautiful and haunting and melancholic, and also comforting at the same time. 

the 30 seconds of fiddle after c. r. avery’s rap verses on po’ girl’s take the long way is the most beautiful piece of music i’ve ever heard, the amazing harmonies on the wailin’ jenny’s version of old man give me goose bumps, and chris pureka’s cover of wagon wheel makes me smile. 

sometimes when i have the house to myself, i pour a glass of wine, plug my ipod into its bose speaker, sit on the kitchen floor with the dog, close my eyes and listen. 

my dad and i do not have a close relationship these days and don’t communicate well, but i’ll always be grateful that he helped me learn to listen. 

i love taking pictures, especially buildings and street scenes.  or old barns or abandoned houses that i come across while traveling.  my photographer's eye naturally seeks out patterns and lines and so most of my favorite subjects have architectural elements to them. 

when my niece, danielle, delivered her daughter, ava marie, last february, i discovered two new loves...  ava and taking pictures of ava. 

the first few months were so much fun.  we had photo shoots with coordinating backgrounds and blankets, hats and headbands.  the etsy people made a small fortune from ava's arrival! 

of course, ava is a beautiful baby.  and i've had such a good and memorable time chronicling her first year.  it's so much fun to photograph a newborn.  ava was all pink and sleepy and, most importantly, posable!  she happily wore any hat, onsie or headband without fuss.  she snoozed while i snapped. 

i gave her a set of onsies for each month of her first year and we've tried to have a monthly photo shoot as close to the 18th of each month so that she would have portraits of her first year and could see what she looked like at 2 months and 6 months and 10 months. 

while i love a full on smile shot...

i love more the candid shot that usually goes unappreciated....

like her adorable feet in this one!

now, ava is closing in her first birthday.  she is walking and talking and screaming with laughter while she chases her mother around their living room.  her milestones and how quickly they seem to appear each and every day - within the last month, she's learned to wave and clap and WALK! - are amazing, of course.  i'm so happy that she's learning all these new things.  that also means, however, that she is leaving her babyhood behind and our monthly photo shoots are changing.   gone are the days when i had an entire nap to set up a layout and swap out hats.  now our photo shoots require her cooperation and sometimes she doesn't want to cooperate.  oh well, good thing i love the candid shots best! 

i cannot wait to snap away at her first birthday party.  it will be such a joyous day.  the photographer in me is hoping that she'll wear a big flower on her head, but the nannie in me will be happy no matter what because she'll be surrounded by lots of people who love her and who have had such an amazing time during her first year and who will be there to help her celebrate all of her future milestones.