When Cheating is Fair

The geometry teacher and I volunteered to play games at the pep rally this Friday. We decided, since we were half the age of the first string football players, we could cheat, and after throwing cones, tackling the other side, and unblindfolding ourselves, we won. Go Gators!

Mine

One morning as I was driving up I-10 into a violet-fire sunrise, my heart told me a secret my brain already knew. I am in love with Christopher. Then this weekend under a tangerine-hazy sunset Chris made me want to write entirely in cliches, complete with heart-dotted "i"s. I am the happiest girl in the world, and in eight months it'll be all you-and-me-and-Sam make three, a family.

Of course, I immediately started making plans for the wedding. I would need a parrot applique for the wedding dress, a fire thrower, Star Wars action figures, an Elton-John pianist, a priest, a deacon, a Methodist preacher, a biker with a chainsaw, and a Mexican wedding shirt. (For those of you that know me well, you know that this is not a random, made-up list but an actual (mostly-actual anyway) accumulation of items and people). Immediately, I was thrown off the wedding-planning committee. I'm thinking of it as for the better instead of the worst. C'mon, though, am I the only one that thinks Chris doesn't look excellent in the Jack Black outfit?

Chris is an excellent sport. I figured this out early on, as we had our first date with my entire family. It was supposed to be a double date, but word got out that we were going to a restaurant. Chris actually called for a second date. I should have known right then and there.

Many thanks for the warm wishes and congrats!

Toddler Real World

Amberrific came up with this brilliant idea for a Toddler Real World show.  She took most of the footage and I hacked it together... all that's missing from this video editing is the duct tape. I hope you enjoy. 

Sam Potter

These glasses may officially be my favorite yard sale find. Sam and I are readjusting to Louisiana weather after 10 glorious days in Kentucky, where we splashed, laughed, camped, and relaxed. I think my guardian angel must have been sitting on my shoulder suggesting that we head for the hills this summer. 

I'll write more later. Try not to check back every 30 seconds... the anticipation, I know, will kill you. In the meantime, enjoy this ridiculously nerdy photo of Sam with his sista by anotha motha, Reva. 

Airborne Sam

The Very Hungry Caterpillar

The suspect at the scene of the crime.

The scene of the crime.

And you thought it was just a book.

Summer Rocks

Sam still in his p.j.s at 7:30 a.m. Phew, we're being some lounge lizards this summer. It's great to be able to spend some time at home with Sam. Every day is an adventure, especially if you get out before 10 a.m. when it suddenly gets to be 95 degrees.

Sam's Show

Yummy Gummi!

Sam loves u-pick eating. Early this spring Papa gave him a lowquat off the tree. Now the gummies and blackberries have come in, and Sam is all about picking his own fruit. He eats the ripe ones, the green ones, the pits, the leaves, occasionally some mulch.

To him, this is the important thing: "I do it myself, mamma". In other words, "Back off, lady; I'm eating here."

The gummi is an important Maples tradition. The bush, as far as Mr. George legendgoes, is a kin to the Russian Olive. All I know is that it is good eating and spitting. Yummy, gummies.

P.S. I'm sorry to my Facebook friends, who apparently can't see the pictures. If you ever travel away from Facebook, try the full-color version at lizmaples.blogspot.com.

Are You Sitting Down?

Once upon a time I had a job at Toys-R-Us. I walked around and straightened things, maybe put some Spiderman underwear out. I spent 5 hours at a time on my feet, and at 23 I thought I was going to die. Yes, I thought it was awful.

Then I started working at the flower shop. After really busy mornings I would sneak into the storeroom, take off my shoes, and put my bare feet on the cool floor. Just for a moment. It was all I needed. I thought, my feet will never recover. Woe, is me.

Then I moved in with Emily and her two kids. I didn't even contribute that much. Maybe made dinner and helped clean up, but after working all day (by working I mean sitting at a computer screen and occasionally strolling over to a meeting where I continued the sit-on-my-buttness), how was anyone supposed to survive?

Then I started teaching. After my first three days I went to the store and bought an expensive pair of running shoes. I felt like I was playing defense all the time. Up the aisle, down the aisle... Talk and move. Don't stand still, don't let down your guard or they will attack and leave you duct taped to a chair.

Then I was pregnant and teaching. Insert expletive here.

None of this. I repeat, none of this has anything on parenting a toddler. In the span of one minute Sam can read a page of a book, climb on the couch, forget the book and climb down, climb back up, lick the dog (yes, he licks the dog), read another page, close the book when Mama even mentions one thing about what might be on the page, climb down the couch, see a cup, climb up the kitchen chair, knock everything off the table, climb down the chair, get the cup, take one sip, manage to spill the spill-proof cup, climb on the car, go two feet, run over Mama, attempt to run over the dog, spy the book. Repeat.

I'm not kidding. I timed it.

Mother's Day

I shot this mother-daughter duo the day before Mother's Day. They were just so cute together. They wanted me to take pictures of the Mom whispering in her daughter's ear. This is one of the things I feel like I'll miss out on, not having a daughter. I love Sam, don't get me wrong, but, maybe it is just that because as a daughter I'm already familiar with the deep, connectedness we, as women, have with out mothers. I can't imagine something as profound as that happening between a mother and her son. Why isn't this in the "What To Expect" books?

The Crud

Sam has had the crud for two weeks. He won't run a consistent fever, I say fever, the doctor won't consider 99 a temperature. He is still eating, but just a little bit less than normal. He is coughing, and I think his nose must be halfway to China by now. I say, please get sick enough for me to do something about it. The in between sick is killing me.

Can we not have a machine that we hook up to our kids, like the one mechanics have for cars, that just tells us what's wrong? Either that or Sam, buddy, it really is time you just started talking.

Where's the limo carriage?

This baby tux was worth the 25 cents at the garage sale. Sam was a nice compliment to Brennan's prom photo-op.

Uh-Oh Spaghetti-O

This was worth the 20-minute kitchen clean-up.

Brennan

I can hardly believe it, but my oldest nephew, Brennan, is graduating from high school this May. He is so funny and sweet. I remember how I took him and his brother, Tyler, to a Warped Tour concert, and neither one of them would get in the mosh pit. I, of course, dove in. Brennan held my stuff for me.
He was such a card on this shoot. It was almost too easy. He has a bitchin' Camaro and he climbed all over the thing, so I could shoot. I am so proud of him. Congrats, Brennan.

Class of 2009

I shot my second batch of senior pictures over spring break. She told me she looks at the pictures every day, and even though I know that is part teenage narcissism, it still makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

She was really wary of taking pictures around the Cathedral gardens downtown, so I sent her this gem at the end of the batch. It says, in case you can't see, "She doesn't bite."

Watch Out Walls

I turned around, and Sam was sitting on the kitchen table. We have officially started climbing. The chairs, the couch, the stroller, the bathtub, me ... My chairs now look like they are in a line-up, all pushed against the wall as far away from anything dangerous as possible.

I think this was all triggered by a visit to Sam Houston, when Sam discovered he could climb the steps and go down the slide on the playground. We did it about a gagillion times. This was after he took a 15 minute hike down the orange trail, and then sat down ... I had to carry him out.

We went home, me with the memories and him with a butt full of sand and a mouth full of S'mores.

The next day the climbing commenced.

Where's the Beef?

I'm soaking some pinto beans to cook Tuesday for my dad. When I left the house he was giving me the third degree. "Do you have sausage? Onion? Cornbread mix? An egg?"
Yes, Dad.

I wonder what he would think of this lovely ham flavoring that came in the bean bag? I mean why buy ham when you can just use the chemical 322o8-T?

Ever since I talked myself into cooking these beans I have been having a hankering for those watery Kentucky pintos with the raw onion and pickle relish. I mentioned this to my mom and she told me that she would pass. Oh, and that she would be bringing rice, so we can have proper beans.

Egg-travaganza

On Palm Sunday Sam and I went to my brother's annual Easter egg hunt. There were live baby chickens and baby ducks there.

Jason hid a bazillion eggs. This is the 2-and-under field he is preparing. This entire copy paper box was full of eggs.
Sam filled that entire basket up by himself, no lie. He lugged it everywhere and would hardly be persuaded to stop hunting. When his basket was full, I had to dig him out of the other kids' baskets. Finally finished, he collapsed into a glass of ice water.

On the way home Sam says, "Who stole all the bubble gum out of my eggs?"

My Dream Man

This sounds really sexy to me right now, "Honey, I'll stay in the car with the baby while you jump out and buy the milk."

Liz = Excellent

My new teacher evaluations are over! Now I only have to produce a 1" binder full of paperwork to say that I do all the things teachers are supposed to do, and then I am done with the state for awhile.

Now I only have a research project, six hours of classes, and an internship between me and my masters.

I have nothing really clever to say about all of this, except, "Yeah!"

I also got Sam into a quasi-Montessori daycare today. They called me on accident, but I guilted them into giving me a spot for the fall. It is a way cool place with Internet cameras, so you can see what the kid is up to all day, and it has dramatic play time, puppet time, and reading time.

I am super stoked. I think I might go to bed early tonight to celebrate.

Ready, Set, Spring

Dad planted the garden... Watch out summer produce, here we come! When I lived at the house with Dad I was the assistant gardener, but now that I moved out I'm more like the half ass gardener.

However, I have a single mother, grad student, gardening plan. I'm going to throw out a bag of potting soil and plant some stuff in it. Come April. March is booked.

Seriously, if you don't want to mess with much, you can just plant right in the bag. I saw it in Mother Earth News.

I couldn't get the ME link to work, but here's another one.

Daycare Part Deux

Seriously, shouldn't someone pay me to hang out with this guy all day?

A Case for Taking Welfare

SWF searching for daycare spot for cute kid. Will take any outfit not hiring sexual predators, long walks on the beach not necessary.

When I was pregnant and my mom kept telling me to start looking for daycare I kind of thought she meant I should start interviewing places, taking tours, you know, being the picky Mom all the magazines tell you to be... What she actually meant was ... get one or you'll be left out in the cold.

March is sign-up time, and I am number 90 on a waiting list for one spot... That's my best shot at the moment.

Not to mention that decent daycare costs about $140 a week...

So, you have to beg someone to take your 600 bucks a month, still spend 40 hours a week away from your child (that's about half of their waking time total in a week), and feel lucky that you have a spot anywhere. This is the reality of having a child.

I see why it makes more sense for single mothers to quit their jobs and get welfare.

Pepper's Past

I was cleaning out the old photos, and I came upon this treasure. I spent a lot of time by myself in the spring and summer of 2004. I can't explain a lot of what I was doing, but I think it goes to show, well, suffice it to say that I should have gotten out more.

This is okra.

One Big Boy

Sam had his birthday party today. His due date was close to St. Patrick's Day, and I was trying to convince the doctor to induce on that day, but I went into labor early.

So, Sam will have to suffer for the rest of his life with St. Patrick's Day parties. Although when we went to Party City to get the loot we really only saw drinking games on the St. Paddy Day aisle. OK, kids fill up your shot glasses with Kool-Aid, now you take this quarter...

Sunday was an excellent day for a party. We got to fly a kite, ate some ribs, played ball, blew bubbles. Sam ran after all the kids just clapping and clapping.

One party down ... 14 to go, right? He'll be too cool for birthdays by 15? Maybe I'll let him dye his hair green for 15, but no drinking games. I have to draw a line somewhere.

Feel the Love

This is why I love my family ....

When I went to mow my lawn last weekend-- something that should have been done two weeks ago, but I refused because it was February-- my mower kept stalling out on me. After the fourth restart I was too tired to start her up again, so I left a patch unmowed.

Then I was sad because today was Sam's birthday, and I had to teach all day and then go to night class.

Whenever I can't my family does.

My brother, Stephen, came over while I was at work and fixed my lawnmower, and mowed my unmowed patch.

Then our family friends, who are Sam's sitters, got him a chocolate cake and hung a Happy Birthday banner. My sister, Meri, called and invited Sam over for dinner. My mom picked him up at the sitter's and brought him to Meri's for a crawfish supper while I was at class. Sam ate his weight in the little mudbugs.

When I went to pick him up he was having a grand time chasing his cousins around, his hair full of cake and his shirt caked in crawfish butt juice.

I sometimes get homesick for Kentucky, but then I have a day like today, and I know that I would live in BFE for my family.

**Meri and her brood aren't pictured... they were home with an ear infection for this event.

Doggy Door

Tonight Sam climbed through the doggy door. If we hadn't shut the gate, he might have been halfway to Canada by now.

A piece of motherly advice, Sam, the moss grows on the north side of the tree, so when you are far away from home you'll know to run in the other direction to come back to me.

Mimi

My mom, who is called Mimi by her 13 grandkids (14th on the way), is working towards her RN after retiring from teaching.

I run some tech support for her, as college has become a lot more Blackboard-oriented, and I have to say that I'm proud of all her accomplishments. She can e-mail, watch the Internet lectures for her class, and I'm told she even finds this blog occasionally.

She still writes her papers out in long hand first, and is not convinced she needs a Facebook page, but these are huge strides. The bane of her existence right now is the .docx file.

This is a picture of my mom when she was in her 20s. By the time she was my age she had five kids. Tonight I saw her talk to my dad, eat a baked potato, and keep Sam in a booster seat all at the same time.

Mimi, you totally rock. Don't let .docx get you down, we're all still baffled and pissed about it.

Milkmaid

Sam switched to milk because he will be having a first birthday on Thursday. I thought this whole milk thing was going to be great, but in reality I've already been to the store enough times to justify buying a cow.

Anyone want to volunteer to milk while we go on vacation?

One half gallon lasted us 2 1/2 days... and it is not like milk is something you can stock up on or buy in bulk. I checked with the Internet, and it seems we will not be slowing down on this milk thing too soon.

The kid needs something like 24 -31 ounces A DAY, which really only works out to be three, eight-ounce bottles. Of course... this is not counting the juice and water cocktails he's supposed to be drinking too.

I ask:

1. Can someone not bring back the milkmaid?

2. When calculating total fluids consumed, does bathwater count?

Wedding Redo

My sister, Katherine, got married to her husband Saturday. She's got the official sanction from Rome. All we have to do is get her confirmed. I am her sponsor, and we've only been working on this RCIA thing for about two years now.

As they say, God knows best. Waiting and having a wedding redo was an excellent idea.

None of us really got to attend the first wedding. Fifteen years ago I was in high school, and she and Jay got married in Arizona, where he was stationed at the time. This time around we were all there, save Meredith's family, who was battling an ear infection. One day all us Maples are going to all show up to the same event.


In any case it was a beautiful ceremony, and a good time was had by all at the party.

Mardi Gras

We hit the children's parade Sunday. Sam got to see his nieces, Ashlee and Abbey. Jason chucked a handful of Jolly Ranchers at us.

There were several nursing home floats, and, of course, all the cute daycare kings and queens riding in the back of pick-ups.

They were throwing some good loot too. Check out Joe's umbrella.

At the very end the fire truck, always on the end because it is always on call, made some loud whaa-whaas, but Aunt Khaki had Sam covered.

Bye-Bye Hair

Sam's shag look hit the road Saturday. I got him cleaned up, and I miss those baby locks already. He just seems so much more like a little boy now.

The lady who cut Sam's hair did seem to be a baby-cutting expert.

She was dropping clips to get him to look down. They were pumping up the volume on the Chipmunks DVD,one screen for each chair. Then when they finish there is a giant vat of toys for the good boys.

Sam cried when we left.

Einstein Toys

Sam only plays with the most educational toys on the market. The muffin tin is only for the most advanced pupils, but most any baby can work the nail clippers. I am thinking of moving him up to hair dryer.

First shots

So, I took Emily's advice and bought a video camera for Sam's birthday. He won't, of course, do much when the camera is on, so you get to watch mundane video of Sam. I still think he is better in person.

Sea World

I decided that I am going to create a splash zone, like the one at Sea World, around my bathtub. See, I accidentally taught Sam how to splash, and he picked up on it really well. I guess I'll have to start dieting for swimsuit season early.

Again, try not to be jealous of the Paint skills. I'm thinking about offering a workshop.

Sam's First Christmas

Sam did not care about the giant box wrapped in Christmas paper. Presents, shmesents. Think I'll get lucky, and he'll always be this way?

I got my answer later that day, as Sam had to fight his cousins off his toy. He's like, "Umm ... Can I play with it?"

Hairy Christmas

This is Christmas picture 104 out of thousands that I have terrific hair. I know that I only fix my hair 23 of the 365 days, but Christmas is never one of them. At least Sam's is looking good. I think my hair is suffering from being shampooed with the baby stuff.

Night Wedding

I shot an outdoor wedding at dusk over the Christmas break. I am always nervous about having to use a flash, but the pictures were decent. These were my three favorite shots. I always like the odd ones. My New Year's resolution is to shoot more weddings.