Blue eyes, sweet smiles and giggles at the park . . .

It is so much fun to photograph children; even more fun to photograph them having fun.  I love the natural flow of a session where the child is engaged in his surroundings, busy loving life.  

That was the case on this special day.  Check out those amazing eyes!  

My little buddy, Brady, had fun leading Mom around and laughing joyfully with each new discovery.

I love thinking about  Brady being able to look back on these photos and see this connection with his Mama.  And I love that precious, sneaky grin and those mischievous eyes!

Ahhh.  The places you'll go, little man, the places you'll go . . . 

and a happy Mother's Day to a fabulous mama!

Laughing out loud . . .

A few days ago I ran across a quote by one of my favorite authors.  The quote was at the bottom of a good friend's email, and I almost missed it.  I sure am glad I didn't.  Barbara Kingsolver is the author, and if you have not read her books, I urge you to have a look.  She has written much, with varied subjects and themes, short stories, non-fiction, a bit of everything.  Her book, The Poisonwood Bible, is definitely one of my favorites.

Oh, but the quote . . .

It's completely usual for me to get up in the morning, take a look around, and laugh out loud.


You cannot know how much I love that.  I laughed out loud when I read it and a zillion memories came rushing back.  As a parent, one never knows what one will wake up to - especially after the children begin waking up before you on the weekends.  It's never a dull moment; I can assure you that.

This past Sunday morning, I woke up last (no surprise) and was more than delighted to see that the children were almost completely ready for church (surprise).  It was a miracle in itself.  And then they all began to explain that they had even finished breakfast.  The laughing out loud came when Harry (age 8) proudly stated, "I just finished the best BBQ sandwich ever."  I laughed, then I thought about crying, then I hoped no one else would find out, then I decided:

1. He was showing his responsibility by foraging and preparing his own breakfast.
2. He was happy.
3. His meal contained one serving from the wheat group and one serving from the protein group.
4. I am mother of the year once again.

Just a few days before I found the Kingsolver quote, I found this on my dresser when I awoke.  I cannot explain it.  I don't really think it means anything.  I believe it was just one of those things that one might find sitting around in a house with three imaginative children.  Again, I laughed, and then I did what I always do when I discover a new oddity - I wondered what in the world was on the funny little mind of the person who arranged this peculiar table decor.  

Was it to signify:

• Mama, I decided I do want to go to swim practice tonight?
• I'd like to learn a bit more about Amelia Earhart?
• Has anyone seen a body to go with this head?

I'm just not sure.  Who knows.

I say, keep it coming.  Bring it on.  Keep me thinking.  Keep me laughing.

And now, we must announce the winner for yesterday's WHAT IS IT contest!

Good work, you guys!  I thought I had you fooled, but I didn't trick too many of you.  

This was the photo:

(Just for the record, all of you Smarty Pants, I never saw the bug until you pointed it out!)

Here is what it was:

Nicely done, folks.  Thanks for playing!  The winner of this week's free photo session is Heather K.!

We'll go again next Monday!

Monday Morning WHAT IS IT?

Happy new week, my friends.  I hope your Monday is off to a good start!

I think I have a good one for the mystery picture today!  You all are getting good!

To play:

• make sure that you have liked Deana Graham Photography on facebook.
• take a guess as to what the photo is.
• send me your guess by email (graham.deana@gmail.com) or message me on facebook.

On Tuesday morning, I'll use random.org to choose a winner from the correct answers.  The winner receives a free photo session!  That's a $150 value!  I can also design a 'Mother's Day' gift certificate if you'd like to give your free session as a gift.

There is NO reason not to try!  Go for it!  Can't wait to get your guesses!

List 17 - a few things that I think would be different if kids were in charge!

Earlier this week, I heard a good interview on NPR (I'm always hearing good interviews on NPR) about A Wrinkle in Time.  The host was questioning a professor about the book, its meanings and what the book was about.  At one point the professor got stuck on different themes in the book.  He chuckled about how hard it can be to break down a story's meaning; and then he said, "I've always said that if you want to write a book, but it's too hard for adults to understand, you should write a children's book."

Interesting.  I did not hear the entire interview, but I kept that comment with me, long after turning off the radio.  I can easily accept the prof's statement.  I agree that sometimes we allow so many things to come into our brains, that we might just be too overwhelmed to notice some of the simple things that slap us in the face day after day after day.

And that got me thinking . . . wondering . . . are there obvious truths that kids are able to recognize that we miss?  Are kids actually smarter than us?  (Children of my own - if you are reading this, it does not apply to anything about rule-making as pertains to your current life.)

Sometimes they are.  Sometimes children pick up on things that our cluttered minds are too busy to see ... or feel.

I decided today's list should be a few things that might be different if kids were in charge; if kids had helped us more from the beginning:

1. We would take breaks more - if we found ourselves in the middle of a hard, tiring task, we would know that it's good to break it up with something fun, relaxing or restful.
2. Every now and then we'd eat ice cream for dinner.  Period.
3. When we got the urge to laugh uncontrollably, we would; even if that meant Coca Cola coming out of our noses or having to get up and grab our bellies.
4. We would learn more about what we wanted to know.  If something interested us, we would keep questioning, delving and searching until we found the answers that satisfied our curiosity.  
5. 'I' and 'e' would be in the same order in every word.  Letters would have one sound and one sound only.  There would not be silent letters, and 'y' would either be a vowel or not.  
6. We wouldn't determine whether or not we were going to do something depending upon how recently we had showered.
7. Sprinklers would frequently be used to enhance moods, causing laughter and better days.
8. We would do a lot of things 'just for the fun of it.'
9. We wouldn't work so hard on keeping things quiet, except when it was necessary.  Eating lunch in the cafeteria?  We'd be talking to our friends.  
10. We would trust our instincts more.
11. We would allow ourselves and others a bit more daydreaming time.  Every second wouldn't 'count' and we wouldn't be trying to fill it, no matter what.  We would get the value in doing nothing, especially to re-coup when we are worn out.
12. We wouldn't be so suspicious about everything and everyone.  We would have more trust.
13. We would know ourselves better.
14. In school and in church and whenever we were learning, we'd act out more and use our hands, because we'd remember that we have to do that to really learn.
15. We'd smile when we feel like it and not when we don't.  It wouldn't mean anything big, but we wouldn't be worried all of the time about how the world is judging us, each and every second.  

What do you think we might do differently if we took more cues from young people?  I wish you would add them in the comment section, so folks could see!

Want to meet a special family?

Check out these faces!  This is one special family, with two awesome boys I get to watch grow up!  Have I mentioned I love my job?

These images make me happy.  I look at them and I see these two cool kids, just as they are in life - happy, inquisitive and smart.

Loving the snaggle toothy grin!

Real boys, having a real good time!

This one, I could actually eat for dinner.  I love that we have that moment captured forever!  Love the way they are looking at each other.   Mmmmmmm.

I think this is good proof that family photos don't hurt, folks - it's fun!

Well, it was bound to happen, and it finally did . . .

Two of my best friends were shamefully bashed last week.

Allow me to explain.

I've spent a good few years (well, maybe a tad more) wearing shoes that make people think.  Some people like them - people that wear tie-dye, work in the paddling industry, own organic pizza cafes and the such. I like to call them 'river shoes' because that makes me feel cool.  (And I presume you'd agree that feeling cool is important.)

I often offer that I am a river person without a river.  What does that mean?  Well, I wear Keens, usually, or something of the like.  Lots of folks who work as river guides or professional kayakers or trail guides or homemade granola makers also wear them.  We do own two kayaks (the sea kind), but one would be hard pressed to call us 'river people.'  I like river people, though.  They are nice.  They spend a lot of time outdoors.  They like to have fun.  Their feet are comfortable.  Their shoes are wash and wear, meaning you could guide your canoe through a shallow patch of mud, then get out and head over to meet your friends at the campfire.  Get it?

So, who wouldn't want to be a river person?  I can't imagine.

My shoes are river people shoes.  They are very comfortable.  They are my friends; not my enemies.  (I do have some unfriendly shoes; but I don't wear them much, and I'm not fun to be around when I do.)

I have taken a lot of slack for my shoes.  Apparently, I am only being hit in the face with what I dosed out to my father, as I was growing up.  I believe I remember often referring to his groovy sandals as Jesus shoes.  I guess I didn't know better then.  That was before I was as smart as I am now.  I had no idea at the time that Dad's shoes were what was making him such a wonderful guy!  I was remiss.  I am truly sorry and I humbly repent.

Some people grab a look at my shoes and try to turn away quickly, without a word.  Some people laugh about them.  Stylishly dressed youngsters frequently ask me why I wear 'those brown shoes every day.'  I just smile and explain that they are comfortable.  I don't go into the whole thing about my being cool and riverish and artsy.  I don't take them to my closet to see the other groovy shoes, scattered about on the floor (unlike their neatly paired and straightened uncomfortable friends that go unworn).

Once a friend told me that she was urging her husband to buy some comfortable shoes; and he asked, "Are you trying to get me to dress like Deana Graham?"

So, you see, I've been through a lot.  I've watched styles come and go and ebb and flow.  I've held my own.  I'm above the trends, friends.  I have my own style.  I'm a river person.  I'm friendly.  I could probably make my own organic oatmeal if I really wanted to.  My feet are comfortable.  My shoes are my friends.

I've been known to state that if everyone in the world wore my types of shoes, there would be no wars. I believe that.  I do.  Should we try it?

But back to last week's atrocity.  I must let it out.

I was in Atlanta, photographing a business woman for her website and shooting some head shots.  It was an enjoyable time.  Her speaking agent was there, too, and the two of us interacted easily together to set up the photos we thought she needed.  It was a good day.  You know the drill - the sun was shining, the clouds were puffy and white, etc.

We had moved outside to take advantage of the light and get some full body shots for her website.  I was working hard.  I was into it.  I was loving it.  Get it?  I was busy, going about my work and loving it.  Everything was going along swimmingly.

And then I heard it . . . I was 100% sure I had understood her correctly.  There was no doubt.

"Deana, those are absolutely the ugliest shoes I have ever seen."


Right there, on that sunny day, in that beautiful space, two of my dearest friends were blasted.  I didn't even have time to cough or anything so they wouldn't hear the smear.  It was just out there, floating around in the air, in front of God and everybody.  The ugliest shoes ever?  Say it ain't so?  Did she really just say that?

Yep, she did.  I held my head tall.  I laughed a confident (river person) laugh and went about my business.  My subject laughed nervously and I uttered some weak retort like, "I'm not really going for beauty - I like to be comfortable."  Laugh.  Laugh.  Clear the throat.

But it gets better; I'm not making this up folks . . .

We headed back inside, took a few more head shots and I began to pack my equipment.  Just as I gathered the last of my lenses from around the space, I looked over at the table.  Their sat the river shoe basher at a table, with her laptop ready to work.  And then it happened, RSB leaned down and began to take her high heels off, one at a time.  "Ooooooooo," she said, "I've got to take these babies off - my feet are killing me."

River Shoes people unite - we win.

Really . . . you want to complain?

That is a question I've been asking myself a lot lately.  A lot.

We have two air conditioners broken.  Two.

It's hot.  Really hot.

The air conditioning in our car (new to us) was apparently not working when we got it.  We didn't know that, of course, and had it fixed at the beginning of the warm spring.  Then it broke again - poof, literally.  A large puff of smoke had me pull over and open the hood.  I opened the hood (because I know you're supposed to open the hood in case of emergencies and look to see what's wrong).  The children gathered 'round.  I feebly searched for the long brace thing to keep the hood raised, and then I made my most astounding and astute statements ever - "Kids, there it is.  That's what it looks like when the hood is raised.  This is the little brace thingie that keeps it open.  That is the engine.  Isn't it nice?  Look, Dick.  See, Jane.  There is still smoke coming from inside here.   Hmmmmm.  This is what the engine looks like when the hood is opened."  The end.  That was all I knew.  The hood was up; I could take it no further.

Luckily, as I peered into the great expanse of black and gray stuff that means nothing to me, and my children peered at me peering, and the friend coming home with us continued to quote the length of each term of presidency, from George Washington to the present; a nice man wandered over to help.  He joined us with his head in the nothingness and exclaimed that we had 'blown something.'  (As I've eluded, I know little about car engines, but the large puff of smoke had already had me thinking that.)

Turns out, we had blown something or other that might be named a compressor or a condensor (might not) and means that the air conditioning does not work.  Oh it blows out nicely (we had already had that fixed) but the air that blows out is sauna-like; well, sauna-like with a lot of force.

The only place to fix the air conditioning is far away from our house (so we can use the extended warranty that was going to be accepted by everyone, including the twenty places close to our house) and so air conditioning repair has yet to make it to the top of the to-do list.  It is really hot in our car.  When I pick up sweaty, warm children from the bus, they do not feel cool and refreshed on their ride home.  When we work to get our hair done just right for an event, it does not look good at our arrival, as we have been blown to smithereens in a failing attempt to breathe.  The oft-cheerful moods of the riders in the car are not as cheerful as usual.  We are hot.

And now, slowly but surely, each new steamy day has brought the assurance that our upstairs air conditioning at home is broken also.  It did not happen all of a sudden, with a poof, like our car did.  There is no hood to raise, nothing to peer into, looking for the blown part.  We just noticed, with each passing day, that being upstairs was becoming a sweatier experience.  We called the man that we believe we have called the other two times we can remember this happening (though we can't quite remember what was wrong) but he is very busy this week.  A lot of folks have broken air conditioners, and we need to wait a few days before he can come.

This information has been relayed to the dear children, though every six to seven minutes one of them is careful to explain, again, that it is HOT!  "I mean, really, Mama, I just can't take this."

You know how you can open a window at one end of the house and then open a window on the other end of the house, and that creates a nice, cool breeze?  Yeah.  Well, that doesn't always work.  Sometimes, apparently, no actual air moves between them.  Sometimes it doesn't work the way it works on a crisp fall day.  There are a lot of fans, and the fans are moved from child to child, as they continue to aspire for the sleeping set-up that brings forth relief.  It is hot.

I want to complain.  I do.  I am hot.  Tim is hot.  The kids are hot.  Sadie hasn't come out and actually said it, but I think she is hot, too, as she isn't spending much time upstairs.  I guess our pores are nicely steamed and ready to go, but we are hot.  Really hot.

I want to complain.  I want to complain when I'm riding in the car.  I want to complain when I try to go to sleep.  I want to complain.  I want to shout about how hot I am.   Something keeps stopping me.  Something keeps telling me to shut up.

As soon as I am about to get heated up, complaining, something stops me.

I am hot.  It's true.  A few things are broken.  True.  It's just that complaining isn't in order; it's just not.

When I drive along in my car, upset that I'm not experiencing a comfortable cruising temperature, I am different from most people in the world.  I'm not different because my air conditioning doesn't work - I'm different because I'm in my car.  I don't walk home from work, past violence and I don't endure the intense heat of the sun or freezing temps.  I ride in a car.  I drive a car that my family owns.

When I head upstairs to get some sleep, I am different from so many brothers and sisters (down the street and on the other side of the world).  I'm not different because my air conditioning is broken.  I'm different because I'm in my house.  My house, the one we own (well, sort of, but we're getting there).  I'm different from most people because there is a roof over my head and a way for me to keep the things that go bump in the night, out in the night, and not in my house.  I am different because my children sleep in their own beds, not wrestling for a place to lay their heads, and they are safe.  I am different because my home is filled with things that symbolize all that we have in this world and all of the things we have been fortunate to do and all of the places we have been.

There is nothing extravagant here, but we are different than most of the people in the world.  I know, though I spend most of my days forgetting to be aware, that most of the people in the world would give an arm or a leg to have what we have, to live the way my children live.

It is tempting, to be sure, to compare ourselves to the family down the street or across town.  It is easy to find all of the things we need or don't have or wish for, to belittle what we do have.  That's easy.  It is easy to tell everyone how very hot we are, how uncomfortable we are, how unfortunate it all is.  That's easy.  It's just not true.

Truthfully, we are fortunate beyond words, to live the life we do.  We have more to be thankful for than most.  We do, and we forget.  We do, and we don't know a way to explain that to our children.

We have two air conditioners that are broken.  Most likely, they will soon be fixed.  We are uncomfortable.  We are hot.  We are sweaty.  We feel yucky.  Our hair gets messed up in the car and we are irritable.

But that's not the real story.  The real story is that we have a car.  We go anywhere we'd like in that car.  We take for granted that we'll turn the key, move the shift and be on our way to the next event in our very filled lives.  We have a house.  We spend our every days knowing that, at day's end, we are sure of exactly where we'll lay our heads and we know that where we'll lay our heads is safe.  We will not endure any violence while we rest; we will not hear bombs bursting in the distance.  The boogie man where we sleep is only in our heads.  We won't be worried tonight that any killer mosquitoes will sting us and take us from our families.  We'll only have to worry that we are uncomfortable and that it will be a few days before a nice man comes and fixes our problem and makes us comfortable again.  We will give him money that we needed to spend for something else, but we will work it out.  In the scheme of things, in light of the conditions that most of our fellow earth inhabitants live, we have no problem.  No problem whatsoever.

I want to complain.  I do.  I am hot.  Big deal.










And now, remembering how very fortunate most of us are, I need to announce the winner of yesterday's WHAT IS IT?

I tricked a bunch of folks on this one!  We had lots of guesses but not too many correct answers.  The winner of the free photo session is Kris G.!  Way to go, Kris!  Can't wait to 'shoot' your family!

This was the mystery photo:

And here is what it was . . .

Thanks for playing, friends, and for following the blog.  It's a blast to have you on the journey!