Scene: Rest time (early afternoon at our house).  Caleb “reads” books in his bed while sometimes talking and singing loudly to himself quietly.  He usually ends up going to the…umm…little boy’s room at some point during this 75 minutes.  To, you know, preform the only one of the Three S’s he is capable of at four years old.  I sit at the computer and whittle away my time with mindless internet activities sometimes blog during this time.  I was on the phone with my mom.

Caleb: [entering the room for help buttoning his shorts]: “You don’t EVEN want to know what the toilet looks like right now.”

Me: [phone conversation ceases, my mom pauses, then says "uh oh":  "What's that?"

Caleb: [repeats sentence with strong emphasis on the word even]

Me: [My mom is giggling bigtime at this point]: “Why is that?”

Caleb: *Grin* I think I actually saw a twinkle in his eye

Me: [stands up from my computer chair] “Hold on Momma”

Caleb: [Tears ASS around the corner, slams the toilet lid and waves his hands over it as if to make the contents disappear] “No.  No, no, no.  NO!”

Me: “Caleb, please go get back in your bed.” [Loose translation: Move, I need to assess the damage.]

The bottom line, pardon the pun: Do not sit on the toilet unless you desire the sensation otherwise known as “Toilet-butt.”  But there was ne’er a drop of water on the floor.  How I’ll never know.  After the tides recede, a plunge shall be required.

~~~

Scene: The kitchen table, examining a science experiment butter from Wendy’s that has gone unrefrigerated for five days now.

Caleb: “It’s better than fast food.  It’s Wendy’s.”

Me: “Oh?  Where did you hear that?”

Caleb: “The TV Channel told me.”

The bottom line: There in lies the reason we watch very little TV.  By we, I mean Caleb.  I can just hear in a zombified voice, “The talking box told me to do it.”  Still, it cracked me up.  We taped Madagascar (with commercials) on the DVR a few weeks ago.  I’m guessing it contains a Wendy’s commercial at some point during the movie.

~~~

Oh yeah, ps…you can rate blog entries before/when leaving a comment.  Because sometimes you just don’t have anything to say  (I love when you do!).  In that case, you are encouraged to check “You rock” ;)   That’s all.

You’re excited.  I can tell.

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Either that, or the groom running around, still not in his tux…

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The house was built ten years ago. Only it was built to look like it was a hundred years old. I found myself wanting to steal the doors. Or just move in.  Either way.

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The third dress the bride tried on…

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One of my favorite detail shots from yesterday…

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I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Obviously I’ve been thinking about posting a lot more than I have actually posted these last two weeks. So I owe a thank you for your patience.

In my ponderings, I’ve come to the conclusion that I become more of a control freak every day. I hate that. I want to work on it. But if things side step, I don’t seem to be able to handle it like I used to. My life before Caleb was a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants life. My plans were to make no plans. To go with the flow. But then this tiny person entered my life, and I honeymooned for several months, sleepily gazing at my blue eyed boy, absolutely in awe that I baked that up in my belly, and that he was even mine. It was all so surreal. But becoming a parent carries with it a weight like no other. I suddenly realized, if I don’t look at the bigger picture, if I don’t start making plans, it’s not just me that I could screw up. There’s a child now relying on me to make the right decisions, and plan past that day’s lunch. That’s when it all started. At least I think so.

Want to know one of my most embarrassing secrets? Well I don’t think embarrassing is the right word. Perhaps sad? Other than a solo trip to the grocery store on average less than once a month, I’ve only left Caleb all day one time. That day, I drove 11 hours to a wedding and back home so I wouldn’t have to leave him overnight. He was 13 months old then.  He’s four now.  I’ve never had a babysitter.

Tomorrow, I’ll be gone most of the day for another wedding (more on that next paragraph). It may very well be the second time in his life that I won’t put him to bed. I find myself very surprised at how hard it is for me to relinquish that control. To tell myself that he will be perfectly fine. Even is someone doesn’t do things my way, that doesn’t mean they won’t work a different way. Our routine doesn’t have to be followed to a tee.

I know I’ve been burnt out lately and I could use a brief break and a chance to work on and expand my other passion, my photography. This Saturday affords me both of those things. My sister is getting married. I am more or less the second shooter. Although, when I talked to her yesterday, she said “I trust your judgment.” To be perfectly honest, I’m terrified. I’ve never even done a formal photo shoot, much less a wedding. Luckily, I do not have to do any formal posed shots. I am thankful for that. It is an outdoor wedding, so I don’t have to worry about a lack of lighting. I am thankful for that. The bride to be favors the journalistic approach to capturing the day. I am thankful for that.  I’ve  spent hours every week trying to soak up knowledge from blogs like Jasmine Star’s and Jessica Claire’s.  I am thankful for that.

So I have exactly 30 hours to make a cheat sheet before this wedding! I saved several shots from my favorite photographers and I’m going to print out small copies of them and paste them in a little book under categories for inspiration tomorrow, along with a list of all the shots I feel are must haves, and tips jotted down.

So if you’ve read all this and you’re not convinced I’m a control freak, I leave you with this. I vacuum every day. Yes. I really do. In my defense, 6 days out of 7, I use a cordless stick vacuum.

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