Lame Sauce

Sorry for the blogging hiatus... things have been crazy, crazy busy (and it's not gonna settle down anytime soon). I am determined to keep on keepin' on, though... so here we go.

For weeks (and weeks and weeks) I had been dreading last Friday. More than any other day of this gonna-take-three-months-to-get-it-done move. More than any day of my ENTIRE life, even: Like a root canal with no pain meds. On a Saturday. While all your friends are at the beach... being slathered with oil by Chippendales dancers.

It was to be an entire, 16-hour-day of traveling, with my 9-month-old and mother-in-law.

Our morning began at 5am, waking Evie up so that we could begin the long drive from one side of Connecticut to the other so that I could teach from 9-12 before we headed to the Boston Airport. The stars aligned, though, and Evie napped the whole way to UCONN. Then, on the second leg of our drive, Evie took another nap. By the time we got to our gate (all the while carrying two carry-ons each, a baby and a stroller) we were so proud of ourselves that we were fartin' rainbows.

Then, because of Debbie's I'm-BFF-with-the-inventor-of-Delta Diamond Medallion Member status, we got to hop on an earlier flight, sit next to one another, check our bags for free, and BOARD THE PLANE FIRST.

Next time you see her you should channel your best Robin Leach and say "Diaaaaaaamonds, dahhhhhhhhhhling". She would like that. (She was seriously such a rock-star all day...Evie would have probably eaten my tears for lunch if Debbie hadn't been there to help me).

The day was going really well; and guys, leaving the Atlanta airport with SMILES on our faces felt pretttty good. After a full day of traveling I would have been satisfied with everyone having all of their appendages intact. But no: we go big. We were SMILING. Diamonds, y'all. Diamonds.

But then we got into the car. With a tired Evie. At 5:15 on a Friday evening. In Atlanta. And here's where I will tell you that listening to a baby cry, neigh... scream, for 2 hours is worse than getting a curb sandwich. So now you know.

But then, just 120 minutes of sheer misery later, we were home. The day I had been dreading for weeks was over. And it was beautiful.

Heart Explosions: A minor cardiovascular inconvenience.

In the past two months, Evie has gone from rocking on her knees to crawling to crawling fast to pulling up to cruising. When I tell people that she has stumbled upon mobility the most common reaction is "Ohhh, you're in trouble". And I am . I really, really am.

But not in the way they meant it. Not because she is getting into things and is increasingly difficult to keep up with. I am in trouble because, every single night I go to sleep certain that I could not love her more. every. single. night. And every single morning I wake up and find that I do, in fact, love her more. And this is very dangerous to my health because one day soon my heart is going to grow so big that it starts poking out through my orifices... and if you have ever seen a human heart you know that this WILL NOT BE PRETTY. And... well, I'll probably die.

And suddenly my squishy, one-hundred-percent-dependent-on-me little baby is all "No, MOTHER, I do not have time to cuddle today. There is a job opening down at the United Nations and there is world hunger to be solved! Dear God, woman, STOP CRYING!"

I am utterly confused as to when life started going by so quickly. I mean, I know that it's always gone by fast; as in: I'm-So-Glad-That-Eighteen-Year-Awkward-Phase-Went-By-Fast, fast. But this, this is just absurd.

And now she WAVES? And is 95% of the way to being able to play PATTY-CAKES?! Someone... just cut all of my knuckles open with the edges of an Encyclopedia Britannica. That would be less painful than this.

And to make matters worse: my uterus (which is the trickiest of all the lady organs) is trying daily to convince me that I miss the babies. And that I want another one. So the logical side of me is trying my damnedest to convince my uterus that, no, you don't want another baby in there. It will stretch you. And then make you CONTRACT. And then they'll have to CUT YOU OPEN again. That doesn't sound like fun, does it? But my uterus is the captain of the Uterine Debate Team... so I think having it removed may be my only choice.

Lighting and Other Six-Headed Monsters

Last week I spent Tuesday (the day before I came down with the impukingsomuchiwannadie illness) at City Hall in Hartford. I had not been hauled in by the law-man. I was learning about lighting. And, y'all, lighting scares the pants off of me.

It's one of those things that I would rather not bother with. If I just ignore it... it will gooooo away. I will only take pictures in the day time. No problem. Except that sometimes (and this is just between you and me) people get married at night. I know. Who are these crazies?!

So Carla took some of us Ten Eyckies (this is what I have dubbed her workshop

pupils/groupies) and put us through the lighing wringer. I mean, she was really nice at first. But then there was yelling. And TIME TRIALS. The brutality.

But it was amazing. And I learned so much. I think I may be brave enough to take a shot or two at night. Or at least heavy dusk.

Here are some of my favorite images from the day.

Krystal and Paul from StudioFoto were our models for the day and, well, let's just say they were oooozing the sex. It would have been really uncomfortable if I weren't TOTALLY INTO IT!

And my absolute favorite.

Check out Bruce, Anna, Sandra, Jesse and Greg's images on their blogs.

Thanks Carla, for helping us defeat the six-headed monster!

Two Months Till Christmas

It does not feel like Christmas yet. This is a really difficult thing for me to admit because Christmas is my absolutely completely 100% favorite holiday and I am usually mummified in Band-Aids from all the wrapping paper cuts, pine needle pricks, and glass ornament nicks by the first week in November. But not this year. This year it does not feel like Christmas.

Things have been sooo busy and stressful around here. Not only has this been the longest semester of my life, but we also have a staggering amount of obligations, and then there are those things that we WANT to do like, oh, I don't know, SIT DOWN maybe once a day. I am so ready for a break. I know that Graham is ready for a break too. And by the amount of screaming that Evie has been doing over the past 48 hours I will assume she is thirdsies on that list. (maybe she has brain damage)

This weekend I finally found a little bit of time to put up our Christmas decorations. First, though, I had to remove the scarecrow and two giant hay-bales that were still left over from Halloween. Classsssy. It took me about an hour, but it was a miserable 27 degrees outside and I kid you not when I say that I'm fairly certain my ears were bleeding and I'd lost 50% of my hearing from the cold by the time I got back inside.

One big difference between Graham and me is that he thinks things all the way through. I don't. I think them through until that thought process takes a maximum of 10 minutes and I get bored and/or distracted by shiny objects.

The part that I didn't fully consider about the Christmas lights was the fact that they might need a place to be plugged in. And that might require an extension cord. By the time I figured this out I had frozen hands and bleeding ears, so now we have a wreath on the door and lights that can't be lighted.

So it feels a little more like Christmas than it did on Thursday... and I am hoping that it starts to feel even more like Christmas soon.

I mean, I have snow on my blog now, too, so that has to count for something.

The Club I Least Wanted to be Part of

This past Sunday we loaded up the Scobey Clan and spent the day at Carla's for a family portrait mega event with all of the other peeps from the studio. It was so much fun. And Evie, in typical Evie fashion, was a trooooo-per. She was incredibly patient and smiley. Especially considering that she only took a 20 minute nap the entire, 6 hour day.

I guess that shouldn't really surprise me. She is a really happy, good-natured baby. But this one time, when Evie was about 12 weeks, I drank caffeine and by the time it got to Evie it had apparently morphed into rocket fuel and she was all schooooooooom, kazoooooooommmmm, wablammmmmoooooo for the next 12 hours.

I spent the majority of that day crying. It was enough to scar me for life.

It is also the reason I am still a little shocked when Evie is her typical, awesome self.

At the end of the day we all sat down and watched a slide-show of the images: they were unreal. It got me all jazzed up and made me want to take more pictures.

So on Tuesday I got Evie all dressed up, put her in a little tutu, and we had a little mini portrait sesh of our own.

Super cute, yeah? Mommy-daughter bonding time, right? Except that exactly .45 seconds after this photo was taken I look down at my camera to check my exposure and Evie rolls off the chair. Does a full 360 degree flip in the air. Lands smack on her big 90th-percentile-head. On the hardwood. And starts screaming.

Yeah. I am officially one of those moms who drops their children on those-things-that-HOUSE-THEIR-BRAINS.

I felt/feel awful about it. Like, seriously terrible. So much so that even after Evie had stopped crying I kept the good ole' Tear Train going for a solid hour.

If life were a video game I would have had little "Mom-guilt + 2,000" signs popping out of my head for the next four days. My mom assures me that every parent has accidently hurt their child in some way, but that doesn't really make me feel better about it.

What have you done that has caused the most self-inflicted-guilt?

Weekend Visitors

Ya'll (anytime I am around Wynnes, talking to Wynnes, or talking about Wynnes my Southern accent comes out like hillbillies at a Stone Mountain laser show); ya'll, this past weekend one of my Dad's sisters and her Daughter, Haley (my Cousin, for those of you with no sense of deductive reasoning) came to visit us.

I have been going to Pickens, Mississippi (I bet ya'll didnt know that I was from a place called PICKENS. There is an actual story about how it got it's name: something about a man with no shirt on, picking his nose and falling off a bridge to his death. No lie. I am not making this up. This is what they told us as children. Right before handing us the keys to the riding lawnmowers so that we could pretend they were cars and the backyard was the grocery store -- in hindsight maybe not the safest practice ever -- but so much fun) anyways... I've been going to Pickens at least once a year since I was little, but since my life has gotten a little move-across-the-country-then-back-to-the-northern-most-tip-of-the-other-side-of-said-country-have-an-unexpected-baby-in-the-middle-of-a-research-heavy-graduate-program-support-husband-beginning-new-career busy, we have not been able to visit Pickens in a couple of years.

Ya'll, (see how I did that?) no trip that has ever been made by any human being in the history of the world has ever meant so much to me. It was Haley's first time on an airplane ever, and while I was a little bit sad that her premier trip on a big steel bird took her from one podunk town RIGHT to another, I had so much fun with her. I am in the process of staging a hostage-negotiation-scenario so that her parents will let her come back up in February for her birthday.

Here are some pictures of them loving on Miss Evie. Watching Angie with her was really emotional for me because it was exactly what I imagine it would have been like to watch my Grandma with her... Angie has every single one of her good qualities: her selflessness, tender heart, and steadfast values. And I just love her so much. And I love her daughter. And I loved watching her daughter with my daughter.

Please come back soon! (as if you have a choice... hostage. negotiation. remember?)

Cough, Cough

Ugh... this was the worst Halloween ever.

Graham and I have both been feeling really crappy and, well, it seems as though we have been struck with a case of

THE SWINE FLU

(insert canned laughter here)

I am a big fan of the trendy-social-phenomena costume.

Plus I DESPISE sexy halloween. And what is less sexy than an infectious pig?

Happy Fall Ya'll

Now that we have gotten past the snow (oh yeah, uh huh, it SNOWS here in October...) the air is perfectly crisp and the leaves are perfectly vivid. Fall in New England is, by far, the only thing that redeems it from the harsh winters. It is beautiful; except that "beautiful" does not even begin to describe it.

Driving down the roads right now, you find yourself completely enveloped in what can only be described as the most awesome display of God's ability to paint.

So this past weekend we bundled up the little one, threw on our scarves and went for a hike.

She has really started to enjoy being put in a carrier. Thank GOD, because I was not too keen on living the rest of my life with my arms randomly falling out of their sockets in an effort to rebel against me for those three years that Evie would not let me put her down.

Add to that the fact that going on hikes is one of our favorite past times as a couple and, well, it's just really convenient that little bit likes it, too. I hope all of you out there in the blogosphere are enjoying the change of seasons as much as we are.

*pictures by the ever-talented Graham Scobey - my miniature beefcake of a man*

Tumbleweed

I have this really bad habit of getting antsy when I have lived in one place for more than...oh...two years. Antsy like I have little creatures who normally live in a hill marching around in my underpinnings.

In fact, we move around so much that we have our own moving crew. And our own T-SHIRTS...and everyone knows that having your own shirts makes you legit. For reals.


And so I talk about it. And talk and talk and tallllllk. And plan. And Graham mostly looks at me like: girl's crazy. And then I talk some more.

We have lived in Connecticut for a little over a year now...so (although we still have another solid two years here) I am all bored with it and ready to go someplace new. Here are my top choices:

Los Angeles: *THUD* That was the sound of my mom hitting the ground somewhere in the Metro Atlanta area from the coronary that she had when she read that. But, I mean, Southern California is just so beautiful...and sunny...and beachy -- all of the things that I love the most. And my favorite place on the planet, Pepperdine, is there. And, well, if I ever got the opportunity to teach there it would just make me jump so high that I would be the first official Grad Student to ever orbit the earth without a space-suit.

Nashville: I lived in Nashville for a few years and it has this great balance of city and country. Plus it has the Puffy Muffin. And Baja Burrito. And Mazatlans. Mostly I would want to move there for the food. Obviously.

New York City: Everyone likes a happy spouse. And moving to Manhattan would make my husband the happiest human being on the planet. ON. THE. PLANET. Plus I have always wanted to live in a truly, truly walkable city. And the take-out options! Geeze-Louise!

Atlanta: There will always be a pretty hefty chunk of my heart traveling, in a little heart-shaped-vehicle, up and down 400 and around 285; because that is just how much I love this city. It is where I grew up and where all of my very favorite people live.

Where would you live if you could move anywhere?

DOUBT

Doubt is a very powerful thing. It can be good: I firmly believe that no harm can come from a willingness to question things. On the contrary; one of the greatest dangers in life is just going along; refusing to let yourself challenge what you know.

But doubt can also be harmful. Especially when you make a habit of doubting yourself.

I have always been a glass-half-empty kind of person. Whenever I do things that are difficult, there are these voices in my head whispering: "you're not good enough", "you cannot possibly go that far -- do that much"...

Since Evie, that's changed. I mean, since Evie everything has changed: but THIS, this I never thought would change. I have been battling self doubt my whole life. There is only one possible explanation for this. Evie is my Horcrux. When I had her, my soul split... and now there is nothing I cannot do.

Something more powerful than doubt: being a mother.

And the leaves are changing which means that I get to drive to school through fiery tunnels and it is beautiful and all is right in the world.

Here is little Miss playing airplane on Mommy's legs during a picnic on Friday.

I know what you are all thinking: "That is not Evie. That is GRAHAM. It has to be Graham." and although I have this very same thought at least seventeen times in any given day: no, it is not Graham, it is my baby daughter. I know this because Graham is much too big to play airplane on my legs.

(un) Labor Day

It has been an understandably busy summer for us in the Scobey house... so it comes as no surprise that I turned around the other day and summer was gone. Like: 50-degrees-outside-in-the-morning-time-to-turn-the-heat-on-in-the-house GONE. Since we have not had much of a summer, we decided that we'd better go out in style. So when our good friends, Carl and B, invited us out to the lake for Labor Day, we jumped at the chance. Graham had shot three weddings this weekend (yes, onetwothree: one Friday, one Saturday, and one Sunday) so he really deserved a down day.

Monday morning we head over to Thompson... which is about a 45 minute car ride. Neither of us were looking forward to spending this much time with Little Bit in the car because, for some reason, every-time she has gotten in the car this month she has screamed obscenities at us for the duration of the ride. And it sucks. Because you HAVE to get in the car. There is absolutely no escaping it. So: we go to the grocery... she screams, we go to church... she screams, we go ANYWHERE UNDER THE SUN... and the child SCREAMS.

Where was I? Oh. Neither of us were looking forward to spending this much time with Little Bit in the car. So we get her all packed up and several moments into the journey... guess what?

She goes to sleep. It was awesome. This would be a good time to tell you about how she also slept the whole way home...but then I would be skipping the entire "lake" portion of the story.

On to the lake portion of the story:

I know... it's like they took Graham's head and put it on a baby's body and then, VIOLA... you get Evie!

Notice how much happier she looks to be in my lap? This is an anomaly... she is a total daddy's girl. I mean, she loves us both, but I foresee many fights in my future where I am getting ganged up on.

One manly skier

TWO manly skiers - there was a near death experience soon after this photo was taken, but I won't say whose fault it was (*cough*GRAHAM*cough*)

One dry dog

One wet (read: dejected and totally pitiful) dog

The End.

June Ten Eyck Tuesday

(I am still pregnant. I do NOT want to talk about it.)

Last Tuesday I had the opportunity to go down to New Haven for the day and shoot some gorgeous people, flowers, dresses, and rooms. There was just gorgeousness galore that day...what can I tell you?! The New Haven Lawn Club set the stage for an amazing shoot, while Tony Palmieri, The White Dress by the Shore, and Jennie Fresa added unbelievable details (because what's a stage without props? empty. that's what.).

Here we have the lovely Mandi rocking a bird-cage veil. Those things just scream "vintage". I love it!


Tony (of Datura, A Modern Garden) is a genius of the floral-loving variety...and I have these pictures to prove it. Seriously, he does things with plants that could blow your mind!

This one is cheese-o-riffic, I know...but a little cheese never killed anyone (unless you are super lactose intolerant...in which case I am sorry...because that means you are missing out on one of life's greatest pleasures: soft-serve ice-cream)

More amazing sculptural floral pieces...

I love this shot of Candace...she is very elegant with the side swept hair

This shot of Mandi in her orchid shawl (yes, you read that right...there was a shawl. made from orchids. ahhh!) is one of my favorites.

And there you have it. To see more pictures of this beautiful day check out the pros and their blogs: Carla, Graham, Katie, and Eric...the talent and dashing good looks behind C10ike Photography.

Only 999 Left to Go...

Graham's parents flew into town yesterday afternoon. They had already cleared their calendars around Evie's due date...and we did not want her late arrival to keep everyone sitting around on their hands. After going through a local attractions guide over breakfast, we decided that it would be fun to take a tour of The Mark Twain House in downtown Hartford (and that, even if it wasn't fun, the large quantities of stairs and walking might force me into labor).

The whole experience was a really pleasant surprise. Mark Twain (whose real name was Sam Clemens) was a remarkable man with a strong sense of humor. Learning about him made me think that, had he been alive today, I would like to have been his friend. His house here (where he spent the "happiest 17 years of his life") is absolutely gorgeous. Graham is going to build me one just like it someday.


Or at least he will build me a Lego house just like it...which is pretty much just as impressive as the real thing. I mean...can you imagine the skill that it would take to make something like this? Amazing!


Our tour guide informed us that The Mark Twain House is featured in the book 1,000 Places to See Before You Die...which was really exciting to me because I love lists and checking things off of them...and there are only 999 things left on that list. And at this rate, we can get through the entire remainder of the book before our daughter is even born.


"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little to no influence on society" - Mark Twain

Spring Fever

literally...

I woke up yesterday feeling less than ideal, but I went to school and got through classes. By this morning things had gotten progressively worse, so I decided to go to the walk-in-clinic and see if there was anything serious going on. After 45 minutes of waiting, a quick throat swab and 15 more minutes of waiting I got my answer: STREP THROAT.

I blame Connecticut (insert our daily Communication lesson: this is known as an external attribution - when something bad happens to you, you blame it on the environment...). It is almost April here, and yet between the gale force winds and measly 38 degrees it might as well be the DEAD OF WINTER.

Adding to my misery: I am 30 weeks pregnant and therefore cannot have any of the antibiotics or shots typically used to treat strep throat. What CAN I have, you might ask. Tylenol. And throat lozenges that do not contain eucalyptus. Awesome. I should be better in no time. Not.

This has been a particularly negative post, so I will end it with a knock-knock joke...they make everything slightly more cheery:Knock Knock. Who's there? Norma Lee. Norma Lee who? Normalee I don't go around knocking on doors, but would you like to buy an encyclopedia?

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Nap Time

I have always enjoyed naps (just ask any of my college roommates). Being 7 months pregnant, however, has taken naps from being an enjoyable indulgence to an absolute necessity for my sanity and the health of those around me (read: my husband).

My institution-worthy-crazy-pregnant-lady mood swings only seem to occur when this one condition is met: I am tired. Being expectant-mom-tired is not a normal kind of exhaustion. In fact, this symptom is probably my biggest complaint of pregnancy thus-far (cankles are really edging this one out of first place at the moment, though). It is a bone-achingly, body-ceasing-to-function kind of tired that I cannot really describe. This is why "rest" becomes so important when one is making a baby. So I nap. I nap for humanity, really. I do it so that all of you can have a more peaceful existence (read, again: my husband).

Luckily, I have the most phenomenal and loyal nap buddy. He completely understands the importance of mid-day sleeping.


Also, happy March everyone. I thought that it was getting warmer here...which meant that, surely, Spring was not far away. Nope. We are currently getting pummeled with snow. Today the weatherperson is calling for 4-8 inches, with another 8-12 to fall tomorrow. It is laughable, really. Except I AM NOT LAUGHING. Neither is my nap buddy, because all of his easy-to-pee-on green grass is covered up...again. Poor guy.

A GIANT Christmas post

Christmas 2008

We have had such a great week. Last Saturday was our annual neighborhood Christmas party. We have been so blessed by all of the wonderful people we have met here...we could not have moved into a neighborhood filled with more fun people!

That's my husband...he cuts rugs...Graham's parents came up on Sunday and we have just been spending time with them.
On Wednesday we went into the city (which takes about 2 hours by train) and saw Jersey Boys. It was a really great play!
It was not terribly cold, either...which was nice.
I couldn't believe how easy it was for us to go and spend a day in New York. Now that we know, we will be going there much more often!!
Today the snow came. Debbie and I headed out to run errands this morning...and we were on a strict deadline due to the impending storm. Well, 11:00 came and then 12:00 came and we were getting very skeptical that this "storm" was going to happen at all. We all sat down to lunch around 1 and watched out our breakfast room window as flurries turned into bigger snowflakes and buckets just began to fall from the sky. Bear got to have his first snow experience...he almost blends right in!


Merry Christmas everyone! I hope it is blessed and joyful!