This past weekend was spent at one of my favorite local getaways, Serenbe. It's a small self-sustained community that sits on 900 acres of walking/horse trails, boasts a beautiful small Inn, and serves up some amazing farm-to-table food at their restaurants. Only 25 miles south of us, we easily make day trips to see their farm animals and jump on the super-kewl trampoline. (It's actually kind of embarrassing how often me and the girls frequent this place.)
Terry and I shot a wedding (my first real gig!) out there for some friends on Saturday. It was fun, and I was very relieved that I got at least 5 good shots out of the 3000 I took. (I seriously took 3000 photographs that day.) I think it turned out well.
Considering that this was my first "professional" shoot, the odds were definitely in my favor. Spring in Serenbe is like walking into daffodil heaven. It was impossible to take a bad shot, given the amazing location. And the bride? Beautiful! The florist? Awesome! The guests? So fun! My co-photographer? Handsome! And we even got 2 nights alone at the Inn (thanks again, Mom, for watching our girls) out of it.
(high-fiving myself)
Check out the first few photos I've posted here: http://whitephoto.tumblr.com/
The Other Woman
"Mom?"
"Yes, Neve?"
"Can I tell you a secret?"
"Yes. Of course."
(whispers in my ear) "I want to marry Daddy."
∞
I trust her secret is safe with you.
The Fine Line Between Happy-Surprised and Horror Movie-Surprised
The preschool's Spring Festival was last Thursday and Friday. I can say many funny things about this, but shouldn't. (There may be some fine print about blogs in my contract.) I'll just say it was quite a scene.
This being my first year as teacher, I didn't really know what to expect. All I knew was that there would be several key ingredients to our festival: a Spring Fairy, a Mother Earth, a Father Sun, a Sister Rain, and a Brother Wind, all of whom would be played by parents of our students.
The day before the festival, parents and other teachers brought in bouquets of flowers, garden clippings, cherry blossoms, pots of tulips, and budding garlands. The "garden room" was assembled (as shown above), and then the parents got into costume. The director, as seen, made sure that "characters check their sillies at the door", and instructed each character on what they should do when the children come around.
Other parents (not playing a part in the "show") waited and sat in the rows behind the row of miniature wooden chairs.
Then we (me and other teacher) led our students up the stairs of the old church building we share a space with, and into the garden room (church Sunday School room that we rented for the day) to sit in those miniature chairs and wait for the Spring Fairy to escort them around to Earth, Sun, Rain and Wind.
Oh yeah, and all the while we sang this:
"Mother Earth, Mother Earth,take our seed and give it birth.
Father Sun, gleam and glow, 'til the roots begin to grow.
Sister Rain, Sister Rain, shed thy tears to swell the grain.
Brother Wind, breathe and blow, 'til the blade all green dost grow.
Earth and Sun, Wind and Rain, turn to gold the living grain."
Terry (aka. best husband in the world) took the morning off to not only play guitar for our class, but also for Neve's class. I can't imagine how awkward singing that song acapella would have been had he not been there.
Anyway, we were told to remind parents to keep this whole thing TOP SECRET from their kids, especially if the child's parent was going to be a part of the "show". We really wanted the kids to be surprised.
Our class is made up of the coolest families. They were such great sports about everything, took the morning off from their jobs to come out, and they all really did keep it secret from their children.
After most of the class had carried their peat pots and seeds around to get Mother Earth's dirt, Father Sun's beams, Sister Rains tears, and Brother Winds breath, they sat back in their chair.
All but two kids were down with the gig. Two, however, were not about to leave their seat. Interestingly, those two kids had mothers playing parts in the "show" (Spring Fairy and Sister Rain).
So, as we walked out of the garden room and back down the stairs of the old church building, I held Sister Rain's son's hand. He was one of the two who did not want to be a part of the festivities.
In a soft trembling voice, eyes the size of silver dollars he says, "Mrs. Dera? That lady looked like my mommy."
Holy Peat Pot, does he not know?!? The poor kid was too scared of his mother's vernal equinox doppelganger to move!
I hugged him and whispered, "Buddy, that was your mommy!"
He takes a moment to process what I just said, and then...
"That was my mommy?"
I nod.
"Yes! That was my mommy. Mommy went to work, and she works upstairs. Yes!"
∞
Shedding tears to swell grain (in a church's attic) is a tough job, but somebody's got to do it.
Happy Belated St. Patty's Day!
This is such a fun holiday. The Pogues, corned beef, beer, and the celebration of a color that actually looks good on my jaundiced-looking olive skin.
A few years ago, I began a tradition that was not as well received as I'd hoped.
A sly leprechaun sneaks into our house and turns everything green!
• Green milk with green shamrock cookies- check.
Breakfast, March 17, 2009:
Fiona: "Mom? Why are the pancakes green?"
Me: {fake gasp!} "I don't know! Oh wait, is today...? It's St. Patrick's Day! I think the leprechaun was here!"
Fiona: "The what?"
Me: "The leprechaun! He's a small man with a little beard who only plays tricks on St. Patty's Day. AND, he turns stuff green!"
Fiona: "I don't like that. Where is he?" {looking under the table}
Neve: "I think I saw him!" {she didn't see anything}
Cue two children jumping out of their chairs and onto the dining room table, screaming.
A few years ago, I began a tradition that was not as well received as I'd hoped.
A sly leprechaun sneaks into our house and turns everything green!
• Green pancakes for breakfast- check.
• Green clothes- check.
• Green bath water- check.
• Green milk with green shamrock cookies- check.
• Green beer for Mom and Dad- check.
• Taking 10 years off our life from food coloring toxicity- check.
Breakfast, March 17, 2009:
Fiona: "Mom? Why are the pancakes green?"
Me: {fake gasp!} "I don't know! Oh wait, is today...? It's St. Patrick's Day! I think the leprechaun was here!"
Fiona: "The what?"
Me: "The leprechaun! He's a small man with a little beard who only plays tricks on St. Patty's Day. AND, he turns stuff green!"
Fiona: "I don't like that. Where is he?" {looking under the table}
Neve: "I think I saw him!" {she didn't see anything}
Cue two children jumping out of their chairs and onto the dining room table, screaming.
Happy St. Patty's Day!
Book About UFOs
When Fiona was only a wee little thing, Terry would hold her in his arms and dance around the little apartment that was carved out of my parent's basement.
I remember thinking that we were too young to be parents. What kind of adults listen to Husker Du in their parents' basement with a baby after all? Despite our sweet set-up (grandparents were there to help, food was always offered, the newly renovated basement was fully furnished and actually nicer than any place we've lived since, we had cable tv, we had our own back porch complete with matching rocking chairs- it was nice), I was eager to move out and get our own apartment.
{Not long after we got married (like a month after), we found out I was pregnant. I was excited, and scared out of my gourd. And then sick. And then grumpy because we were living in this big cold loft in downtown Atlanta that was expensive and not cozy and not at all the white picket fenced house I had always pictured living in when the day arrived that we would *clear throat* choose to have a baby. And then I was sad, because I was working at a job that required me to travel a lot. And I really just wanted to quit and be home with the baby. But Terry was still freelancing, and it seemed risky. Hence the decision to move in with my parents.}
Looking back, those were such sweet times. Not worth one moment of fear or worry.
November, 2003:
Terry looks at Baby Fiona and says, "Dera, do you think she'll read books about UFOs one day?"
"Probably. She already looks like you, and she's got your little furrowed brow... I bet she'll like the same things you like too."
Fast forward 6 years:
Fiona is a deep thinker. She draws a lot. She makes abstract jokes that fly over Neve's and my head. She can just sit in a room and read a book about UFOs for hours.
She is her father's daughter for sure. And that song chokes me up every time I hear it.
I remember thinking that we were too young to be parents. What kind of adults listen to Husker Du in their parents' basement with a baby after all? Despite our sweet set-up (grandparents were there to help, food was always offered, the newly renovated basement was fully furnished and actually nicer than any place we've lived since, we had cable tv, we had our own back porch complete with matching rocking chairs- it was nice), I was eager to move out and get our own apartment.
{Not long after we got married (like a month after), we found out I was pregnant. I was excited, and scared out of my gourd. And then sick. And then grumpy because we were living in this big cold loft in downtown Atlanta that was expensive and not cozy and not at all the white picket fenced house I had always pictured living in when the day arrived that we would *clear throat* choose to have a baby. And then I was sad, because I was working at a job that required me to travel a lot. And I really just wanted to quit and be home with the baby. But Terry was still freelancing, and it seemed risky. Hence the decision to move in with my parents.}
Looking back, those were such sweet times. Not worth one moment of fear or worry.
November, 2003:
Terry looks at Baby Fiona and says, "Dera, do you think she'll read books about UFOs one day?"
"Probably. She already looks like you, and she's got your little furrowed brow... I bet she'll like the same things you like too."
Fast forward 6 years:
Fiona is a deep thinker. She draws a lot. She makes abstract jokes that fly over Neve's and my head. She can just sit in a room and read a book about UFOs for hours.
She is her father's daughter for sure. And that song chokes me up every time I hear it.
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