Marveling at my awesome parenting once again

Last Sunday, I noticed my middle child limping and hobbling on our way into church. Crabby, tired, and short on patience, I told him to knock it off.

Also? The Mother of the Year people just called. My award is on its way.

He looked up at me with sadness in his startlingly blue eyes and said, "I'm sorry, mom. My toes are just scrunched up in my shoes and they really hurt."

After giving myself 6,000 lashes with the belt made entirely out of guilt, I apologized and promised to get him some new shoes this week.

It really shouldn't have surprised me. The new Sunday pants I bought him at Easter? Like three inches too short now. I don't know what this kid is eating that is so different than the others. Nobody else is sprouting ankles out of their pants by the hour. An inch or two every year at best. But this one? He's grown about three inches in the last few months alone.

So yesterday we headed over to the mall. I started at Macy's, figuring I'd buy his forgiveness make up for the insensitive remark by treating him to a great pair of shoes from a respectable department store. I also wanted to hit the MAC counter for myself. The day was all about him. Making him feel special and loved.

Only, much to my dismay, I discovered that he has completely outgrown the children's sizes, and is now smack dab in the middle of the men's shoe sizes.

Sweet. fancy. moses.

Have you ever seen how expensive men's dress shoes are? Ain't no way I'm dropping $150 on a pair of shoes that, in all likelihood, will fit him for about eight minutes. I rarely spend that much money on my OWN shoes.

So I lied and told him I didn't think any of the shoes there looked good and steered him toward Famous Footwear. Where the shoes were only $90.

And then I steered him towards Sears, where the shoes were only $60.

By this time, I was running out of excuses as to why I felt the stores just didn't have his style. I think he believed me after the first store. But by store three, he was looking at me like I had totally lost it.

We ended up at *gasp* Payless, and I gladly forked over $40 for a pair of surprisingly decent-looking dress shoes. It still pained me slightly, knowing that he only wears them a few hours every week, but it was definitely better than the alternatives.

Here's hoping they fit him for more than a month.

Because, really, if anybody is going to be spending the Husband's hard-earned money on more shoes around here, it definitely ought to be me.

Summing it up nicely

Said by Hannah at lunch yesterday:

"I might be a little bit mental, but I've got a great sense of style."

I'm just wondering which part she gets from me, and which part she gets from the Husband.

Never mind. Don't answer that.

The one in which she returns from the dead to delight (and bore) you once again

Tap, tap, tap...

Is this thing on?

Anybody still out there? I cannot believe it has been ten days since I visited this little blog of mine. I don't think I've gone that long without blogging since, well, never.

What have I been doing?

Well, I have found myself inundated with photo shoots. Be sure to check my photo blog in the next few days to see some of the fabulous sessions I've had lately. I can't tell you the joy it is to be so busy you can barely find time to get it all in.

I've also taken a little road trip with my kiddos, my cousin, her children, and a car full of candy - pictures to come later this week. (Of the kids. Not the candy).

I have been busy working on a how-to post for the Divine Miss M. (Marta, that is. Though I'd just as happily do anything for Bette, should she ever call. Hi Bette! Loved you in Beaches!)

I have been recovering from a nasty summer cold that stole my energy, my voice, and pretty much my will to live.

I have been juggling (not very gracefully, mind you) motherhood, laundry, work, kids, and the Husband. Life just seems to have hopped a runaway train this summer, and there's no stopping it now.

Anyway, it's good to be back. I've missed you peeps.

Freedom, baby

It is almost Independence Day.

Which for most of America, means stuffing ourselves silly with fried chicken, potato chips, watermelon, and flag-shaped desserts. It also the time where we gather as a nation, sit on blankets, and watch explosive lights in the night sky.

By no means do I make a mockery of these sacred American traditions. I embrace them with my whole heart. I just find it funny every year that the way in which we choose to celebrate our freedom is pigging out and blowing stuff up.

I guess it doesn't get more American than that though, does it?

ANYhoo, I am once again toting my camera to our favorite fireworks spot and will be attempting to capture some of the spectacular colors. And because I'm so nice, I'm going to teach you all how to do it, too.

First step is to turn your camera to the manual setting. That means NOT shooting in the auto or "green button" mode. [While you're scratching your head in awe going, "Wow, I wondered what that big M was for", get this book, learn how to always shoot in manual, and start thinking of ways to beg my forgiveness.]

Your aperture or f-stop shouldn't be too wide open, anywhere from f-8 to f-16 would work well. The lights are very bright, and you don't want all of that light hitting your sensor and blowing the photo out. I use a low ISO, about 100 or so. The shutter speed is going to be very slow. If your camera has a "bulb" setting, use that. It will allow you to keep the shutter open for as long as you are holding the button down. And with fireworks, we definitely want it open for a second or two. If you don't have the bulb feature, select the slowest shutter speed possible.

Also, if you don't have a DSLR, you can still change all of these settings on a point and shoot camera. Get your manual out and figure out how to adjust the aperture, ISO, and shutter speed. Every point and shoot camera I've seen allows you control over these key components.

The last (and probably most important) thing is to set your camera on a tripod. I have not bothered with that in years past, but am definitely bringing it this year. I am excited to see the difference it will make (huge, I expect). It is near impossible to hold the camera steady enough for that long of an exposure. A tripod is key.

Any questions? Happy shooting.

Oh, and happy eating, too.

Eating our way through Beantown

Our trip to Boston was a return to what had once been our home. It was the place our family went from four to five. It was where we bought our first home, and lovingly furnished each tiny room with care. We have many cherished memories, each tucked away in the file cabinets of our hearts.

Eh, who are we kidding?

It was the place where I discovered this store:

Which sells the likes of these:

That alone is reason enough to visit.

I literally ate my way through Boston on this trip (and have the pounds on the scale to prove it). All the places I wanted to be sure and hit were restaurants and/or bakeries. Any historical landmarks or cultural exhibits were merely a secondary consideration.

We were there to eat, baby.

While walking through the North End with a box (and a belly) full of cannolis from the famous Mike's Pastry Shop, the heat became a little too much for Miss Hannah. We had been walking the Freedom Trail for what seemed like an eternity, and she had reached her breaking point.

When Josh spied a pedicab on the street, he wisely put his two girls in it - opting to walk back to the hotel with the boys, who immediately began complaining vigorously at the injustice of it all.

Eyeballing the rather slender form of our pedicab driver, the following conversation took place:

Me: Are you sure I'm not too heavy for this thing?

Him: Nah. Are you underestimating these thighs?

Me: No. I think you are underestimating these thighs.

Him: Yeah, that box of cannolis can really weigh you down.

Me: You have no idea.

But he huffed and he puffed, and got us back to our hotel without collapsing or needing to call an ambulance.

Though I am pretty sure that any more days there and I would have needed one myself.

Food heaven, food coma, food baby.

Yum.

And the winning city is...

Boston, baby!

The picture for the contest was taken in at one of my favorite places in Concord. It was at the North Bridge --the serene, tranquil place spoken of by Ralph Waldo Emerson in his poem, "Concord Hymn." It was quite literally the site of the first battle in the American Revolution.

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood
And fired the shot heard round the world.

A few of you guessed correctly. A lot of you guessed wrong.

And some of you were absolutely hilarious in your guesses.

If ONLY I could go to Lallybroch with one red-headed, kilt-wearing Scotsman! Yum. (Read this book and you'll want to go, too.)

But since there can only be one winner, courtesy of Random-dot-org:

Cindy from AZ

Send me your address and a little ditty is headed your way.

I will be back tomorrow with pictures galore, stories, and a very funny conversation with a pedicab driver about my thighs.

Right now, I should be unpacking and doing laundry, but I find myself here at the computer, trying to catch up on the hundreds of blogs in my reader -- getting up only to get myself more handfuls of the highly overpriced/very touristy Boston Baked Beans we brought home.

Which by no means are helping the matter of the aforementioned thighs.

See you soon, peeps. It's good to be home.