Hero Worship in the Modern Era

I wrote this story last Fall, following Rob's first experience at Dodger Camp.  I have refined it a bit over the past few months, but have wanted to "publish" it for awhile.  I am finally getting around to it, with some pictures as well.

Many of you might remember a time when you had a hero.  You wrote letters, you sent cards, you followed a person’s every move.  You might also remember when your illusions of greatness about this person were shattered, when you realized all too painfully that he or she was human, and possessed all of man’s inherent faults.  My day of reckoning came in the third grade.  I had written a letter to President Ronald Reagan and surprisingly got a response.  As I excitedly tore open the letter, I was taken in by the official seal, the bonded paper, the signature.  My excitement was then shattered when someone (a family member) mockingly told me that the letter was a “form letter,” one of probably hundreds or even thousands sent out to school children just like me, all over the country each day, likely prepared and even signed by a staff member.  My image of the President was instantly tainted, and I was suddenly very aware of the fallibility of mere mortals. 

My days of hero worship were pretty much over then, aside from a brief relapse this past year, when I so wrongly believed that a photographer, somewhat of a celebrity in the industry, would take the time to respond to my comments, as one “photog” to the next.  I was quickly returned to reality when I got a short and cryptic email from a staffer and remembered again that our heroes are at the core, human. 

I try not to get too upset as my daughter chooses a hero (most recently, Manny Ramirez) who might let her down, and watch with the rest of the world as many of the younger generations “heroes” and those held in high esteem (Tiger Woods, Roethlisburger) are shown to be quite human, with all the same faults and fallacies.  Certainly, one might think that the days of true hero worship are long past.  In today’s world of internet and the information highway, heroes are felled with a mighty click of the mouse, instantly sending pictures or stories of misdeeds out on the “wire” to the masses.   

Despite the recent onslaught of fallen heroes, there is still a place where true heroes can be found.  While I am sure they are human, with their own faults and lives to live, for one whole week they return to hero status and are exalted by the “common” man.  I am referring to that little patch of dirt in Vero Beach, Florida, lovingly known as “Dodgertown.”  The week is known as “Fantasy Camp.”

For the entire week, men return to the days of their childhood, running and jumping and playing.  Knees creak in protest, backs and arms ache like never before, but they play through the pain, usually with ear-splitting grins plastered across their faces.  To do otherwise would squander the opportunity.  Men who remember the days of O’Malley and the move to L.A. are transported back to the simpler times when the smell of popcorn and a hot dog at the park could wash all of your cares away.  Boys who pumped their fists with Gibby in ’88 run the bases imagining that they too can achieve greatness.  Perhaps even more poignant now, as today’s team struggles in the aftermath of the tumultuous McCourt era and hopes for a little bit of “Magic”, a trip to the past reminds us why we love our Boys in Blue, and why Dodgertown is, and likely always will be, an institution.

They come from all walks of life – policemen, doctors, lawyers, accountants, salesmen, business owners, teachers and so much more, a range of ages among them; the youngest perhaps 32 or 33, the oldest…. well, he just wasn’t going to admit that.  Rookies and veterans alike, they converge, to glory in the presence of their heroes, to walk and play where the great ones have walked and played.

Lockers for players and coaches alike, in the same locker rooms used during Spring Training.

Some might consider it crazy for these men (and a few women) to pay for the opportunity to spend time with these baseball greats (and spend a week playing baseball.)  But for those as steeped in the history of this team as they are, it is an honor, a privilege, a right and even for some, a duty.  As the years tumble forward, the true greats, the names which built a franchise like Pee Wee Reese, Don Drysdale and Duke Snider leave us and it becomes all the more important to squeeze in these moments with those who are left.  These fans, these hero worshipers revel in the greatness, proud and humbled to take the field with those men who dominated the field and their childhoods with baseball.

For the entire week, they eat, sleep and play with the Boys of Summer, some raised on the heroes of ’55 and others of ’63, ’81 and ‘88.  Split up into teams with at least two former Big League players as managers, sharing lockers and showers as if they themselves were in the “show,” they play several games a day, take batting practice, and even share meals.  Meals are filled with laughter and jokes, player-of-the-day awards handed out by managers and an all-around good time.  Memories are made in mere hours or days but will last the rest of their lifetimes.

Rob catching and hitting in the All-Star game on the last day of camp.

Top - Phil pitching in the All-Star game.  Bottom - Dad catching for Phil.

One day a whisper roared through camp.  “He’s here.  He’s here!”  Unable to believe their own luck, they sought out more information.  “Where?”  “Will he sign anything?”  Suddenly, a camper ran past some of the others, carrying a baseball, frantic to get through.  “He’s in the trainers’ room and he’s signing autographs!”  The great Sandy Koufax had appeared at camp.  For many raised on Dodger baseball, his is the name and face that defined the team for several generations.  Men became boys again and stood in awe of the greatness.  Koufax, who seemingly shuns the spotlight most days, was magnanimous, signing whatever bat or ball or piece of paper that was reverently handed to him and just as gently taken back, a memento to be treasured and a story to be told to a child or grandchild.  He swapped stories and chatted with the campers, and posed for many pictures.  As his time at camp drew to a close (he was not a coach or manager but had been invited to stop in by an old friend, Tommy Davis) campers were reluctant to turn away, hesitant to allow the moment to end, as they knew it must.

Phil with Sandy Koufax.

But the camaraderie doesn’t end on the field.  For many it extends back to their hometowns, where they might see one of these players at the market or the mall.  The heroes continue in their gallantry, posing for photos and signing autographs for the children they heard so much about at camp.  One named “Brooklyn” drew particular attention from these Boys in Blue.  They remember the campers and while the names might be momentarily elusive, with some help and in a minute or two, it comes back, and they remember a game or a play or a practical joke.

Throughout it all, these players remain humble, almost in awe of those who come to see them, just as the campers are a little bit in awe of being in the presence of these men who played and who filled their childhoods with heroes. 

Tommy Davis signing a ball for a fan during the All-Star game.

And as the week of camp comes to a close, the players are saddened, a little melancholy that playtime is over and they must return to the “real world,” and maybe more than a little hopeful that the stars will align again in a year, that they will be able to return and that the players that they love will return as well.  For in that place at that moment, the heroes have risen once more and all is right with the world.

But Where Did All the Money Go?

Going to PTA meetings these days can be incredibly depressing.  Most of last school year's meetings were filled with the "doom and gloom" of the impending cuts to 81 of our district's teachers, 6 from our school alone.  PTA Board members and parent volunteers worked their butts off to raise money to cover things that we all took for granted as kids - art, music and phys ed classes, field trips and assemblies.

Over the summer, several of our classrooms were overhauled to make room for more students, as the class size mandate has gone from 25 to 30.  While there were 4 full size 1st grade groups last year, there are now 3 full size second grade groups.  When I was in elementary school, there were usually 30 kids in a class, so I don't think the size itself is as big of an issue.  But we also had art class once a week, music twice a week and phys ed twice a week, in a separate classroom (or gym) led by a separate instructor. (Yes, this was public school.)  The teacher had that break each day to count on.

Initial news at the beginning of this school year is not much better.  As our school continues to struggle to get its fair share of funding and state dollars, more programs are in danger of being cut, due to lack of funds or a lack of volunteers.  Art and music programs, once funded directly through the state and the school districts are now being left up to parents and the PTAs to keep alive.

As school starts this week, just 8 short weeks since the last school year ended, I can't help but wonder what is going on around here.  While understanding that "times they are a'changin'," I can't help but compare my elementary educational experience with the one that my daughter is getting, and can only hope that she will fare o.k.  I already mentioned that we had gym, art and music on a weekly basis.  On top of that, there was no such thing as "minimum days."  We did not have "early dismissal," a week long fall break, or an almost 4 week long holiday break.  We had 1 day of school off during each 1/2 of the year for parent-teacher conferences and another day off for "staff planning day" or "teacher in-service" day, 2 weeks at Christmas and 1 week for Spring Break.  (If we were lucky, we got Snow Days in the winter.) 

Back in "those days," we shopped for our own school supplies too.  Each year when class lists went up, we scrambled for those supply lists and happily went trekking off to KMart or Hills (a mid-west retail Target-type store.)  We brought our own crayons, pencils, pens and glue to school, based on what the teacher said we would need.  In some classrooms, each student brought a box of tissues, which were used throughout the year.

Looking back over that last few paragraphs, it seems as though I'm talking of days "long ago," when in reality, it wasn't that long ago. (Was it?)  I can't be that old, right?  Apparently, I am.

In today's world of budget cuts and economic downturn, of raising taxes and decreasing benefits, it seems that the schools are feeling the pinch more than others.  I can't help but wonder what our elected officials are doing with that money - it has to be going somewhere, right?.  Goodness knows that they aren't spending it on the education system.   Add to that the cuts to the Court systems that have been ongoing over the past 3 years and I think we have a recipe for disaster. 

I don't pretend to have a solution.  I do have questions - lots of questions.  I researched the use of lottery funds a few weeks ago, since that was supposed to help education years ago.  If you are curious, Google it yourself, but the short and quick answer that I found was that the money put out by the lottery is a drop in the bucket compared to the money schools apparently need to run each year, and in some cases is barely noticed.  (By the way, the financials for the LA Unified School District are staggering.)

One question I posed to the school principal (and a few other parents) at the end of last year - why is the school or the teachers purchasing the basic supplies for students to use in class?  I was told by someone that it was a way to maintain uniformity among the supplies.  Another answer I got was that it lessened the likelihood of embarrassment for that student or students who could not afford supplies.  To that I say "Hogwash!"  There is not a valid reason out there that I can think of for our school or the teachers to be spending money on students' supplies that they can just as easily go out and purchase themselves.  At Wal-Mart last week, you could buy a box of 24 crayola crayons for $.50.  A pencil box was going for $.99.  There are low cost options.  And in the limited situations when a student can't afford everything they might need, then the school or teacher could have a small supply on hand to help out that student.  I just do not see the need for the school to go out and purchase 900 bottles of Elmer's glue, when there are other things better suited for those funds.  As a parent volunteer last year, I spent a good 1/2 hour one day (towards the end of the school year) searching for white paper to make copies.  Yes, white-paper-to-make-copies.  There was not any and according to one of the teachers, it was in high demand.  Newsprint for art projects was something else apparently hard to come by.

You have to wonder if the public education system is putting itself out of business.  The economy takes a down-turn and the government raises taxes.  People can't afford to continue living in their neighborhood because of the property values and taxes, so they move, taking their kids with them.  At the same time, the public school systems declare that they cannot afford to pay for art teachers or music programs or gym teachers.  Those same school systems operate an annual budget based largely on the state "ADA" rate (Average Daily Attendance - the school gets paid a per student, per day rate based on attendance.)   Parents, frustrated that their children are not getting the same well-rounded, quality education that they once got, which included art, music and gym, a library that was staffed and had newer books, seek other options - charter schools and private institutions.  Despite the expense, some parents believe that it is worth it to pay for an education that includes those things.  As the enrollment numbers in the public schools drop, so does the money from the state, causing further cuts.  It is a vicious cycle with no end in site - other than possibly the privatization of the entire public school system.

I shudder to think how things are going to look 5 or 10 years from now.  We moved to this area because the schools were supposed to be better than LAUSD and because there were many young families with lots of school-age children here.  We moved to a neighborhood where the school is literally down the block and we can walk our daughter to school.  We heard good things from friends in the area and we have liked things so far.  But I worry as things continue to decline and parents are asked to raise more and more money to cover these programs that are being cut, assemblies, field trips, busing... and the list goes on.

As I said before, I don't have a solution and the search for answers has been difficult. Perhaps the first step is to have people, even those without school-age children, realize what is being cut, to realize what the state is paying for and what parent organizations and volunteers are raising money for.  Then maybe we can start working towards other solutions.  But in the meantime, I also think we, as parents, can step up and pay for some crayons and pencils and glue.  It is a small step, but it could be an important one. 

These Are a Few of my Favorite Things....

Many times over the past few years, I have mentioned something called "Project Life," a way of scrapbooking that was designed by Becky Higgins.  The first year I tried it, in 2010, I wanted to take a picture each day and journal each day.  I won't say that I failed miserably, but there are a few holes in that book.  In 2011, I resolved to do so much better, and I actually did.  With just a few (2 or 3) days when I did not take a picture, I completed the year with photos and I journalled each day.  It was sometimes a bit tedious when I was doing it, but it is fun to look back and see how our year progressed.  2011 was a big year for Kensi, going from 3 months to 15 months and so it is fun just to see her growth through the year.

When 2012 rolled around, I decided that I did not need to do a picture or a journal spot for each day of the year.  Instead, I borrowed an idea that I saw posted on Becky's Blog (www.beckyhiggins.com/blog) from someone who did weekly pages.  So far, that seems to be working for me.  I sit down each Sunday night and think back over the week and journal about what we did, who we saw and life in general.  I sometimes find that I only have pictures from 1 or 2 days in a week, so I fill the pages with those days.  Other weeks, I seem to have more pictures than I know what to do with, so I will go back later and do separate layouts for some of those different events or outtings.

For now, I feel like I'm keeping up with some of the most important times of my husband and my lives - the growth of our girls.  Kensi will be 2 in October and Brooklyn will be 7 in December.  These are the fun times that I want to make sure we capture and are able to look back on later.  They seem to grow so fast and I just want to capture a moment of that.

Now some specifics - Becky has created a number of different layouts that you can use for your pages, should you choose to embrace this journey.  I use her "standard" pages, which have places for 4 horizontal photos (size 4 x 6) or other insert, along with 4 smaller inserts for journalling.  Sometimes I include smaller photos in the smaller spots, sometimes I fill them with journaling.  To mix things up a bit, I also added one of her slightly smaller page sizes, I think it's an 8 x 10 or 8 1/2 x 11 page, but it has places for 2 horizonal and 2 vertical 4x6 pictures, plus 2 smaller spots for journaling cards or photos.

I thought since I had talked about these things before, you,  my faithful few readers, might like to have a quick way to get at them.  (And here is where my shameless plug comes in....)  You can only get Becky's designs at Amazon.com.  So I've included a handy little link on the side of my blog with some of my favorites marked.  Here's the kicker.... if you click on the link and buy her stuff, I get a few pennies!  Yup, that's right.  I know, it sounds incredibly strange and almost like a commercial, but I figured "what the heck, I'll give it a try." 

So now you have the best of both worlds (whatever those "worlds" might be) - you have my blog posts, with pictures of what I've done with Project Life, and you have a quick link to Amazon in case you want to get started on your own Project.

I will add that new products for the 2013 year have been getting added here and there and I have only posted to my favorites those that I can see on Amazon.  As the journaling cards and new albums and other things come out, I'll come back and add those to my favorites as well, so that you can see them.

In the meantime, enjoy some pictures of my efforts with "life".

This is a week from my 2010 book - April, I think.  A picture for each day and journaling.  The arrows point to the appropriate pictures.  Below is another one from 2010.

This next one (below) is a week from this year in February.  We had quite a bit of fun with Valentine's Day, so I did one show side of the week (using the smaller page that I mention above) for the pictures.  I added some stickers on the outside as well.

The last two are more from this year (2012.)  You can see I did less journaling, opting instead to highlight bigger events, rather than the everyday "mundane" things that we have going on.  I also have smaller pictures in some of the spots.

One final note - I don't have pictures of it to show you, but I borrowed another idea from one of Becky's fans and went back and rounded the corners (yup, ALL the corners) of all of my pictures - big and small.  I'm not sure why, but I like the way it looks.

Rejected....You be the Judge.

Over the past few years, I have dragged various Cohen family members and my children to the LA and Orange County Fairs.  Perhaps yearning for some of the care-free (and grease covered) fun of my younger days, I love to wander the Fairs, including the barns and the shopping areas and of course, the food sections.  One place I often find myself is the photography exhibits.  I wander through looking at all of the places people have been and all of the things people photograph.  I often leave wondering what makes a particular photo a "good" photo and whether or not that photo had been retouched.

Before I continue, I must admit that I am a bit of a purest in the sense that I don't want to rely on Photoshop in order to get a great picture.  I think that if the photographer is talented enough, there shouldn't need to be any retouching.  Really, what did the pros do before computers and digital photography?  Even as recent as ten years ago, my wedding was shot on film, something that is practically unheard of today, unless the customer specifically requests it.  (We won't talk about the photographer then threw out the negatives.)  If the pictures had been digital and the Photoshop option available, maybe I'd have a picture of Mom walking me down the aisle with her eyes open.  Har-de-Har-Har.

Another example - a few months ago, I schlepped down to the LA Convention Center on a Friday morning to take part in a class put on by Scott Kelby, a professional photographer and one of the leaders in Photoshop.  The class was designed to show how to set up lighting for studio shots and also how to edit in Photoshop.  The problem I had with the whole process (well, one of the problems) was that I could not tell what was wrong with his original images.  (And maybe that is why I find myself here, in the land of rejection.)  He would set up the shot, take a picture and then put his original image on the screen.  But before he would start altering it, I could not find a thing wrong with it.  I also still maintain that if you are a good enough photographer, you don't need the computer. 

I did learn that those great photos you sometimes see with monuments and buildings all lit up with the moon bright behind them.... spoiler alert!... those photos are usually mash-ups or layered photos.  Someone takes a photo of the moon, all big and bright and then drops it into the scene behind the monument.. or something like that.

But I digress.  2 years ago, 6 or 7 months pregnant with Kensi, I found myself wandering the Orange County Fair photography exhibit.  As I looked at the pictures, I thought "I can do this!"  My Mom bolstered my confidence by saying that someone in her office submitted pictures and if he could do it, I should, because mine were better (or something to that effect.)

As the months of 2011 wound down, I scoured the Internet for information on how to enter.  Most of the postings were put up at the end of February and early March of this year and I was ready.  I printed the list and began sorting through my photos.  As the time wound down to the wire, I decided on 5 photographs to submit in various color and black and white categories, at a whopping $10 per entry.  I then had to wait for a whole 15 days to hear my fate... would I move on to the next round of judging or would I receive a lovely email thanking me for my submission and telling me to try again next time.  After digging through several hundred junk emails, I found the ones I was looking for, and..... no dice.  Each email separately thanked me for my submission and politely said that I (or rather, my photography) was not good enough.  There was no explanation of the judging criteria or why my photos were not accepted, but it did say that the judges change each year, so I should try to catch someone else's eye next year.  We'll see.

In the meantime, below are the 5 photos that I submitted, along with a brief description of what/who they are.  Other that switching one photo from color to black and white, what you see is what I actually shot.  I have not altered them in Photoshop at all (although I might have cropped one or two of them.)  I did not change the lighting or the shading or the color balance or any of that other crap that I don't completely understand.  You tell me - are they good enough to exhibit?  Good enough to compete for the ol' red or blue ribbon?  Ah well.... maybe next year.

(1)  This one I called "Bright Eyes."  Shot in color, I switched it to Black and White for submission to reduce a spot of glare on her eye.  I also cropped in close to her face, as she was peeking out from behind the stroller.  (I can't find the B&W, so here it is in color.)

(2)  This one was submitted under the heading "Landscape/ Foreign Travel."  Taken a few years ago, on a family trip.  (One of my personal favorites from the trip, after a long day of wandering the streets and hopping on and off the Metro.)

(3) Another one from that same trip.  Funny thing about this one - after my entry was rejected, I happened to be flipping through some things I saved from the trip.  I came across a post card that has almost exactly the same photo, from almost the same vantage point.  It made me laugh to think that my "reject" might be good enough to grace a postcard.  Maybe I should have cut some off of the bottom?

(4)  "Dancing."   Sometimes, the light is just perfect and a funny angle adds a little something extra.  I was trying so hard to snap a shot of Kensi dancing in this particular spot on the floor, where the light was just perfect, that I didn't even realize I was tipping the camera.  When I saw the pic, I really thought it was great (if I do say so myself) and blew it up for framing.

(5)   Brooklyn - This was taken near the Museum of Natural History last spring.  Typical of B, she hopped up and started posing.  Maybe she's got some flyaway hair, maybe her face is a bit in shadow, but again, what makes this a "reject"?

So there you have it, my first attempt to breach the vaunted halls of the Orange County Photography exhibit.  Someone mentioned to me that the Antelope Valley Fair has such a contest, so I'll be checking on exhibiting there before the summer is out.  One can continue to hope, right? 

Dreaming a Little Dream

Two nights ago I had an amazing dream.  I think I was actually smiling in my sleep.  Even after the alarm came crashing into my dream, I managed to sneak back into it after hitting snooze and smiled some more.  What was it?  Well, it was a bit of revenge, actually.

You see, there was this guy that I dated in college. To put it mildly, he treated me like crap, ripping my heart out at least two or three times over 3 years, stomping it into oblivion and then handing the pieces back to me.  Someday, I'd like to ask him "why," although I'm sure I would not get a satisfactory response.  (Although he did once tell me that I was "right" and he apologized for something stupid he had done.  I think the moon was misaligned that night.)  But I digress!

Lo' those many years ago, in 1996, I packed my bags and moved West, to LaLa Land.  I saw him just a few days before I left town and he could have cared less, I'm sure.  I don't think he even wished me "good luck."  For the most part, I did not care, but as with anything, there was a part of me that wished it bothered him, even just a bit, that I was leaving.  Did he ever care for me?  Honestly, I doubt it.

So what does this have to do with my dream?  Well, I got revenge on him in my dream.  How?  By coming back to town with a killer body in a killer dress and looking incredibly hot.  Some of my good friends who were drinking their coffee while reading this just spit it out all over their computer screens, and the ones who had been chewing a bite of their cookie or other treat just choked on it.  Now they are all crying through their tears of laughter.  It is not that I have low self-esteem issues or don't see myself as "hot," but I do run around in sweats a lot, with my hair pulled back in a pony-tail, so "hot" isn't often used to describe me.  Anyway, I rolled into town looking great and found myself at this particular place (which shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) talking to guys that I haven't seen in years and generally making him jealous.  The dress was making me smile too, it was white with "Dodgers" splashed across the side, and showing just the right amount of skin.

In the real world, he is the one guy that I did not understand.  I suppose you might say I continue to look for "closure," but he also happens to be the guy that once told me that there is no such thing.  He could be right.  On some level, there is much from those days that I need to simply let go.  But it is amusing at the same time that it creeps back into my dreams from time to time.  Last night's dream was about the volleyball team again, only this time I got to yell at the coach, venting a bit of my suppressed anger.

It could be that I'm creeping up on 40 with 2 little ones and starting to wistfully recall my "younger" days.  It could be that my 20 year high school reunion is this summer and that has pushed thoughts of long-lost friends back to the forefront.  Or it could just be that I'm nuts and the psychosis that I've managed to suppress for a few years has fought its way back to the surface.  Yup, I think that's it.  I'm going with the suppressed psychosis.

Until the next dreamy night....

Cameras, Photographers and ... wind (?) Oh My!

It's a Tuesday and it's been a strange day already.  75 degrees by 8 a.m., but windy.  It's May, not October, so what's with the breeze?

Beware the "great" deals on cameras.  What's the old adage? Oh yeah, if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.  I bought a little "point and shoot" camera last summer, thinking that Brooklyn could use it when she went to Cousin's Week at Aunt Peggy's house.  I put in a memory card and took a few pictures, but they didn't look so good.  Thinking nothing of it, I set it aside (but didn't have Brooklyn take it, for fear it would get lost.)  Rob took it to Florida last November for Dodger Camp.  He said he had a few problems with it and it didn't take very good pictures.  I was not sure if it was "operator error" or the camera, but he was correct, the pictures did not look too good.  He did take some video as well, but nothing too exciting.  The camera has sat on my desk at the home office for months and I decided to take it to the Clippers game Sunday night.  Lugging the big Canon around can be a pain sometimes and the ushers and ticket takers at Staples don't always let people in with "big" cameras like mine. (It also differs by event - sporting events you can usually get the camera in, but for concerts you can't.  Someday, I'll find someone to explain that to me.)  In any event, Staples was festooned with tons of Red for the Clippers and I took a few pictures.  Yuck.  The ones I took inside the arena were blurry and just looked bad, even on that little one-inch screen.  I took better pictures with my Droid.  So, needless to say, the camera will be going the way of the buffalo soon.  Well, maybe I'll give it to Brooklyn.  But why the mention of the "great deal"?  I bought the camera at Kohls.  It was originally about $135, I think, and it was marked down (on sale, not clearance) to about $75 or maybe even $50, and I had coupons, so I paid $35 or so for it.  Turns out, I should have saved my money for a Canon Power Shot or maybe a little Nikon.  Would have been better spent.

Photographers - ugh.  I have had it with JCPenney photographers.  Can they really call themselves "professional," or do they just pull people off of the street and hand them a camera.  I know I've said it before, but this time I really mean it, I'm done with them.  I took Kensi in for an 18 month photo shoot (a few weeks ago.)  I had been feeling guilty that I took Brooklyn so many times when she was a baby, and had so far just taken pictures of Kensi myself (albeit with some really great results.)  Hoping for the best, off we trooped.  Kensi was not happy.  She walked off the mat more times that I can count and they ended up taking a total of 9 pictures.  Yup, NINE.  I regularly take 9 pictures in about 5 minutes of average things at home.  These people are supposed to be PROFESSIONALS and we were there for about a 1/2 hour before just giving up.  The kicker?  At one point, the "photographer" (and yes, I use that term VERY loosely) put the camera down in order to try and get Kensi to look at the camera and smile.  The reward for her efforts?  Kensi looked up with the sweetest look on her face and even a little grin. (Brooklyn was sitting behind her.)  The problem?  THE FREAKIN' CAMERA WAS 3 FEET BEHIND HER ON THE FLOOR!  ARGH!  I was so tempted to pick the stupid thing up and start shooting myself.  So, needless to say, I'm going to be hunting for a few basic backgrounds and some canvases that I can set up at home (I already have the light stands and a few other little toys.)  Anyone else sick of the "professionals" at JCPenneys doing a half-assed job?  Come to my house - I'll take the pictures for free and give them to you on a disk.  Can't do the digital touch ups for you, but you might get a few good ones to take home.  Grrr...

And finally, just a few things on scrapbooking.  You know it had to go there eventually, right?  I spent Friday and Saturday in Manhattan Beach at an event put on by Teresa Collins and a local online scrap store.  The event was open to 100 women (I guess men could have come too) and included 4 classes.  2 on Friday and 2 on Saturday.  Teresa Collins is a pretty big name in her own right and she was able to bring together several other large names and got products donated from several big companies.  The projects were cute, some a little more my taste than others.  (I won't give too many details here, but will try to get pictures up soon.  Some of them may turn into gifts for people.)  The company was interesting.  Scrapbookers can be a crazy lot.  Overall though, I have found these women to be very open and warm and quite friendly.  Some women came from other states and one even came from England.  Apparently Teresa has a big following. (I'm not so much a "celebrity" follower in the biz, but I like certain styles.)  Rob is convinced that all of them (except for me and a few of my scrapping friends) sit at home with their 40 cats, taking pictures of and scrapbooking those same cats.)  I will say that there are some odd birds in the group as a whole, and a few of them were there on Friday.  I could not help but wonder how many cats they owned (2 particular ladies) but I refrained from asking.  They were nice enough ladies anyway, even if they did spend 15 minutes trying to measure the pieces of wood we were working with, in order to get everything centered.  (I eyeballed it and then had to laugh when I did pull out my ruler and found that I had hit dead center.)    In any event, the weekend was a nice break.  No kids of worries for 2 whole days.  I even tried to have a beer on Friday night, since I had nowhere to drive to, nowhere to be on Saturday morning (other than to scrap some more) and no other responsibilities.  Yup, I fell asleep.  So much for my big night out without the girls.

Now I must get some work done.  Pay the bills, justify my presence, the usual things.  Pictures of the scrappy projects to come soon, hopefully, and maybe some pictures of Kensi.  In the meantime, GO DODGERS!

More Mysteries of Motherhood...

This topic has been rolling around in my head for awhile, gaining momentum and then falling by the wayside.  In light of the current TIME cover that is on everyone's minds these past few days, I thought I'd pull this out of the ol' noggin and put it out there.  If you're not sure what I am talking about with respect to the TIME cover, just google "TIME breastfeeding cover" or words like that and you will soon be up to speed.

What mysteries are we pondering today?  One recent one for me is this idea that we, as parents, have the right to judge what other parents are doing, based on our own experiences.  This fits squarely into the discussion of how long to breast feed your child and the whole idea of attachment parenting, but those recent hot buttons are not what is fueling this topic for me.  The cause of it was a brief stop at Wal-Mart a few weeks ago.  Of course you see all kinds of people at Wal-Mart.  Heck, I shop there and I'm sure I could someday end up on a "People of Wal-Mart" picture (not that I aspire to that.)

Anyway, I was waiting in line to check out at Wal-Mart and a child started screaming a few lanes over.  The person who was in front of me in line started talking to the check-out person about the child, and making comments about how her children never behaved that way in public and if they had, she would have dragged them out.  What followed was about 10 minutes of the check-out person and the woman in front of me talking about this poor child and parent a few lanes over and how they would handle the situation differently.  At least, it felt like 10 minutes when you factor in that I was in a hurry, had only come in for one or two things and was headed elsewhere, and the kid was still screaming.   After the woman in front of me finished up, the check-out person then tried to continue the conversation with me (I was not a willing participant) and then started up with the woman behind me in line.

So here is my dilemma.  Even as parents, are we really ever qualified to discuss and opine on someone else's child rearing?  Do we ever really know all of the facts of any given situation, such that we are able to offer up advice or tell someone what we would do in that situation?  I don't think so, because I do not believe that we can ever really, truly step into someone else's shoes in that way.  I will say that I have been on the receiving end of screaming tantrums once or twice in B's 6 years.  We actually walked out of a birthday party because she started throwing a fit.  We quietly apologized to the mother of the party girl and physically picked B up and carried her out - literally kicking and screaming.  We even had an "Exorcist" moment in the car when she, finally buckled into her car seat, ordered us to "turn this car around, right now!" in a very throaty, deep voice.  If it had not been slightly comical through our tears of frustration and embarrassment, we might have been a little freaked out.  My point in telling that story is not to highlight one of B's episodes, but to highlight the idea that while many of the other parents at that party might have understood what we were going through, none of them would know exactly what the situation was, or why we handled it the way we did (although I am sure some there might have had an opinion on how they would have handled it.)

I revert back to something one of Rob's cousins mentioned to me a year or two ago.  She said that you cannot be a parent without being a hypocrite, something that she learned through hands on parenting as well.  A good example of this, is that before I was blessed with little ones, I used to swear that I would never use a leash on my child.  I thought that parents who had cords attached to their kids just did not know how to control them and that when I became a parent, I would do better.  Then I became a parent.  Then my daughter started to walk and then run.  Then I bought a leash.  Seriously, you never know how you will handle a situation until you are smack in the middle of it.

So, what did I do at Wal-Mart?  I kept my mouth shut and my opinions to myself.  I silently chided the women in the lane I was in for having the gall to think that might know better than the little girl's mom what to do.  I also silently said a little prayer for the Mom of that little girl, wishing her peace and patience to deal with the situation.  But I kept my mouth shut.  In that same vein, I may opine about breast feeding, but at the end of the day, I did what was best for my kids and what my body allowed me to do.  I do not assume to know what is in the hearts and minds of other moms and I do not assume to know what works for them or their children.  I will say that it is kind of creepy (for me) to see a toddler walk up to his or her mom and actually ask for milk, then go back to playing with his friends, but that is me.  I do not have a problem with breast feeding in public, but that's another topic for another day.

The other little mystery that has been bugging me.... hours of labor.  How exactly do you count the hours of labor?  Is it the time from the first contraction until the baby comes, or is it just from when the water breaks until baby's arrival?  Or maybe just the active pushing?  I am confused and curious because several friends have recently had babies and I have heard "horror" stories about the long hours of labor - going to the hospital at lunchtime on Wednesday and baby coming early Thursday morning, or even better, going to the hospital on Sunday and baby coming on Tuesday. Oh wait, that was me.  I wonder.  Does anyone even know?  Is there a standard measurement?  How do we figure this out?

With B, I started having contractions around 1 or 2 in the afternoon.  They were short and not very close together, but it was enough for me to call the doctor.  By 4 in the afternoon, they were closer together and lasting longer.  By 7, we were on our way to the hospital.  At 8:30, my water broke and B arrived around 11:30.  I would say that my labor lasted around 3 or 4 hours, going from the time my water broke until she arrived.  I guess that would be "active labor."  Where does the rest of that day figure in?

With K, I was sent to the hospital by my doctor, before contractions started.  I guess you could say that I was induced, starting at 6 p.m. on Sunday night.  Nothing really happened until Tuesday morning, when I was given a different medication to really get things moving.  I got the epidural around 7 and I think the doctor broke my water around 8 and K arrived around 1. (I would have to check what the time of birth was, cause as I write this, I don't remember.)  But with her, I'd say I was in labor for 5 or 6 hours.  Realistically, before that, nothing much happened.

As I write this, I do not really have a closing for my thoughts, just the idea that they are finally out of my head and that space can be taken up with something else..., like why I can win random contests at the mall but can't win the lottery.  More on that another day.