I have taken many photos over the years that captured a look, an expression, a moment in time. Recently, I opened this shot of my youngest and was immediately carried back to the moment that my kids decided to stop listening to me. They figured out that maybe everything I said was not always right. All of those years of listening were down the drain with the discovery that maybe, just maybe, they could have an opinion of their own. The power to "just not listen" was discovered. If they closed their eyes and didn't face me, it was as though I had magically disappeared into thin air. They were left in a world of bliss, while I was left in a world where my dialogue had magically morphed into something that sounded  much like Charlie Brown's teacher. In this shot, "It's time to come in, Maddy" translated nicely into "Wah Wah, Wah Wah, Wah Wah Wah Waaaah". 

 {iPhone shot - a reminder that the best camera is the one you have with you} Tacky Day ... the process goes something like this ... try on outfit. take off outfit and try on another outfit. yell. try on a completely new outfit. request funny hairdo that takes mom too long with her brush. walk out the door. freak out and run back inside to change outfits. cry. put on new outfit. get into the car. sit quietly. sink down in seat and peer out the window. ask mom in a tiny voice if she is sure today really is tacky day. sink down lower into seat as mom pulls into carpool lane. peer out window to see if there really is anyone else dressed tacky. spot another tacky student. sit up a little taller. see more tacky students. smile and unbuckle seatbelt before car even has a chance to stop. jump out of car and ignore mom as everyone is gushing over your tacky outfit. mom drives to Starbucks and realizes that in all the madness she forgot to brush her hair and secretly hopes today is tacky day at Starbucks too.

   Before we go any further down this road of getting to know each other, there are some things that I thought you should know about me…1) I saved Eartha Kitt's dog.2) Little Jimmy Dickens saved my dog.3) I live in a log cabin that was a tollhouse in the 1830s.4) I fell off a cliff in a car, landed in the ocean {and lived to tell about it}.5) I leave my Christmas decorations up until Valentine's Day.6) I am psychic {psycho to my close friends}, so watch what you think about me {I can hear you}.7) I was being discharged from the hospital on September 11, 2001 in New York City.  My uterus had ruptured while giving birth, and the doctors saved my newborn and me in 4 minutes. While coming to the hospital to take us home, my husband and one year old daughter witnessed the planes hitting the World Trade Center.8) In Raleigh {a city of over 400,000 people}, I moved out of the same house that my future husband moved into next {before we knew each other}.  Before he met me he got my junk mail, now he just gets my junk.9) If you can’t find me behind my camera, I might be on the tennis court {and you may not want to get too close}.10) Without knowing who he was, I gave Prince Edward $5 off discount coupon advice in a store in NYC. He was very sweet about it, with his gorgeous British accent {and his laugh}.11) In college, I rode through a car ...

   It was the night before camp and I was that tired mom, the one who runs around the house at midnight trying to gather everything the kids could possibly need to spend a week away from home. I logged on to the camp website to see if there was anything I had forgotten, and there "it" was staring me straight in the face.  Number one on the list of things to pack - "a great attitude".  It was the answer I had been trying to find. I knew something had been missing from our house, but couldn't quite put my finger on what it was until I saw that list. The girls must have accidentally left their "great attitude" at camp the year before, along with that bathing suit and sandal that I could no longer find. I needed to get it back and I needed to get it back quickly, so I decided the best thing for me to do would be to write a letter to plea my case.Dear "Great Attitude",  I am sorry to say I didn't know how good we had it when you were living with us. Please come home. Can it really be so fun there all alone at camp with the cobwebs and spiders? How about the lumpy mattress you have been sleeping on and the lack of air conditioning? If you come home, I promise to try not to embarrass you quite as much in the carpool lane by singing the wrong lyrics to songs that blare a little too loudly from the open windows of my car.  I also ...