Hand holding...

Well, another Christmas in the bag, so to speak. I realize it's been a loooooonnnnngggg time since I've blogged. Why? Cause it was insane for me to pile up more work for myself, when I was already running on a ridiculously unrealistic path. But, tonight, I'm sitting in a hotel room holding hands with a sick Peanut. Charlie has gone to take the big girls to meet their dad near Baltimore. (Have I mentioned that Charlie is a saint?) I'm watching The Wiggles and Madagascar for the nth time. And, it's ok.





It's ok because I'm still. It is so rare that I am just...still. Can't help but channel my grandmother and quote the good book, "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10) Yes. I am still. And I know God is with me.

This year ahead...will be the year of stillness. Yes, I will work. Yes, there will be more school programs and rehearsals and church functions. But, my goal is to make a concious effort to be still and sit with God. The One and Only God. The one who gave me Jesus - who is the only way to life everlasting.






Yes, I will make time to be still and hold the hands that made the Grand Canyon. That put the stars in their places. That were violently fastened to a wooden beam....all, so I could hold His hand forever. Guess He loves me, eh? Well, I love Him. Happy birthday, Jesus.

Location:Richmond,United States

Oh the joys....

Oh the joys of working for yourself. At home. With children. Ahhhh.....




Oh the guts it takes to post this picture! My fear, is that all of you wonderful, professional, photographers, will snicker at my rudimentary "studio," my choice of lens, lighting, backdrops, etc... I'm not even going to go into what's going on with my hair! (Hey, It was in my FACE!) But, this photo is priceless to me.

As I was working yesterday on a newborn session for my dear, dear, friend, Wendy Barnes McEntee, I saw a flash go off in my peripheral vision. Wait a minute, I thought to myself, my flash is OFF! I looked down to check my camera, and realized that Wendy was standing there taking pictures of ME! By the way, that's a first, Wendy! Never before has a client taken MY picture!

I had skipped church to get ready, and sent Charlie and the girls along to church without me. I gave him instructions to keep them out as long as possible. I was certainly afraid that if he brought Anna in, with a BABY in the house - who KNOWS what would happen??? Of course, as soon as she saw that baby, man-oh-man...she was on little Elly like white on rice! "Bay-bee, bay-bee," she pointed as if there were a snake in the room and everyone must look NOW! She danced around, circled the precious little one, and was just itching to get her hands on the, "Bay-bee!" Anna bent down and waved at little Elly and said, "Hi, bay-bee!" Then she spent the next several minutes looking at me and holding her hands out as if to say that it was HER turn!

Things got a little tricky once Elly started whimpering, and I (OH MY GOSH! THE HORROR!) picked her up. When I held that baby close and rocked her and got her back to sleep, Anna stood there just soooo lost, confused, and a little weirded-out as if to say, "What the heck is going on here? Why is MY mom holding THAT bay-bee?" Suddenly, there are arms around my legs that are not about to let go anytime soon. So, what do we moms do? We multi-task. I sat down with the baby, assembled my shot (all the while tethered tightly to an 18 month-old at the knees), and plopped down on the floor. Not one second later, Anna assumed her position of authority over that baby - in the throne - my LAP! The throne that no other child is supposed to occupy but HER! (Little does she know it is USED! Boy, oh boy! When she realizes Morgan and Bradyn were there first...heads will roll!)

But, with the slight stress this caused, along with a little frustration, when I saw this picture...my heart warmed. Oh, to have a pic of me in my Mama's lap while she worked! My sweet friend Wendy adopted this precious child with her husband Colin, and they are so in love - with each other AND the baby! We take for granted these precious little ones that get under our feet all day and make the simple things, ridiculously challenging. But, the joy...my heart is full of joy! Praise God for these little bundles of joy!

Hereinafter referred to as "the funk"...

Blah. That pretty much sums up what this blog is about. Blah. The energy it takes to even type "blah" right now, is ridiculous. I was talking to Charlie last night, and the night before, and the night before that....about the fact that I think I may still be suffering from post-partum depression. (Hereinafter referred to as "the funk.") Poor Charlie.

Seriously (crap, I use that word a lot these days), but seriously, that poor guy fell in love with a woman who tricked him into thinking she had it all together. And, I must admit, I put on quite the performance. But, this actress is getting tired of the show schedule, and I am no longer packing the house every night. My feet ache from all the dancing, and I keep forgetting my lines.

I write this just as I am about to call the doc and admit that maybe I need a shove towards sanity in the form of "medimeece" ("medicine" in our house, thanks to a 2 year old Morgan.) Why do I fight against the whole anti-depressant thing? I guess, because I took the meds for so long - and tried just about everyone they had - back when I was married to my first husband. Nothing seemed to work. Soon after my second child was born the post-partum set in. Soon after that, my marriage started it's slow descent into death. It was hard separating the two. Did my marriage fail because of my funk? Or was the funk brought on by the state of my marriage? Looking back, I had good reason to be depressed. It was situational.

Now, however, there is no obvious reason for me to be so down. No reason for the constant fatigue that is nearly painful. I have an amazing husband. Three gorgeous girls, who although are not perfect, they certainly are amazing and wonderful. Nice house. Good job, in fact, my dream job, which has taken off like wild fire! A whole group of wonderful supportive friends, both in "real life" and in my social networks. And, although it certainly drags me down, my weight is hardly at the point of a major mental issue for me right now. And, yes...I'm getting PLENTY of sleep. Why the heck can I not snap out of it???

So, it certainly seems logical that there is a chemical imbalance up in here. My brain tells me very logically, "You need the medicinal push to get the ball rolling towards sanity, Kim." But, the little devil on my shoulder says, "What about the side-effects. Oh my gosh. You HATE the side effects! The haze. The stomach issues. The weight gain. Don't do it, Kim!" What do I have to say to that? I say, I'm dealing with most of that stuff anyway, what does it really matter at this point? I feel maybe I can only go up from here.

So, there. Once again, I have bared my soul on the internet. May I ask one favor of you all? Please don't read this and feel all sorry for me. If you have gone through this - share your story, your success, your struggle. But, please don't feel like you have to cheer me up for sympathize. That just makes me feel worse.

And, please...share your life with me. One of the neatest things about blogging has been to find a few other people going through the same stuff. But, one of the hardest things, and a huge reason why I haven't blogged in a while...is that this relationship with you seems so one-sided. I blog. I vomit up my life (good and bad), and rarely get anything in return. I want to know about YOU! So, could everybody please start a blog? Ha, ha!

Love and peace through Christ Jesus my Lord,

Kim

It's a Long Way to the Top...

So, I'm on my computer this afternoon after a photoshoot for which I straightened my hair, AND wore a shirt other than the infamous black v-neck. I'm about to start working on edits for like, four shoots back, and I'm thinking I look like death. I got all dressed up and even applied makeup - came home and was sweaty, had frizzy hair, and am suffering from fire ant bites. I'm thinking all that work to look decent for a client, and I probably look like H-E-double-hockey-sticks. Ugh. Too lazy to go to the mirror in the bathroom oh, say, 15 feet away, to verify my suspicions - I pull up PhotoBooth on my Mac.

Now, for those of you who haven't had the delight and pleasure of crossing over into Jordan - or okay, into the Mac world - PhotoBooth is a program that takes your pic from the webcam that comes built-in to our awesome Macs. I was just gonna pull up the photobooth to see what the heck I look like right now.

What I uncovered was simply, perfection. Funnier than anything on the planet, and more descriptive of my sweet daughter Morgan, than I could ever write. I LOVE this girl. Teenagers rock because of this. I quickly assembled these stills into a slideshow and added music from her iPod. She sold me the privilege of posting this on my blog, with no fear of being hated forever, for the low, bargain basement price of $30. Yes, Dancin' Jimmy balked at my frivelous expendature, but I quickly reminded him of the many-many times he has offered Brady Lady $20 to "break it down" in public. (She still has not taken him up on it, however.)

Enjoy...my Moey-Moey-Moey-Pamoey:

Women ONLY, please...

NOTE: Men, sorry, but you are not invited to this discussion. Not that you aren't always welcome to my blog - but this one is just hard for anyone to get unless you have given birth, and not useful to those of the human race who will NEVER give birth. It may contain graphic material not suitable for that same portion of the human race who, is capable of napping on Sundays guilt-free.

Now that we have that taken care of, let's get on with it. I'm stressing about the big, daggum, FOUR-OH, that is looming ever nearer. Yesterday was just a long, sad, reminder that I am AY-GEENG! Blah. T-minus 1 month, 29 days until the day that will live in infamy. Not quite December 7, but two days later - December 9. Hint-hint: you can email me to get the address in which to send the Canon 5d Mark ii, to.

Last night, as I lay in bed, contemplating the day, I tweeted. (No, that does not involve pulling the sheets over my husband's head.):



You see, all three of my children, precious-precious children, decided that when the time was right, they just COULDN'T WAIT to get on out of my body. Morgan-5 hours labor, Bradyn-4 hours labor, Anna (induced 2 weeks early) -7 hours. Keep in mind, I went from 7 centimeters to 0 in a matter of 30 minutes with Anna...excusing her from the previous 6 hours of labor. And, let me just say the term "labor" is used loosely here. I pushed with Morgan for 30 minutes. Bradyn shot on out when the doctor made me laugh. No kidding. I didn't push, I LAUGHED THAT GIRL OUT! My mom says her Native-American name should be "Laughing Moon." And Anna, well, little Anna had to be pushed back up and held there until they could get all the crap set up to catch her in!

So, okay - I know we all LOVE to share our birthing stories, don't we? We love comparing and competing with our fellow moms as to who has the best story! But, all of that was to say, those sweet little girls RIPPED my pelvic floor right out of my body. No kidding - it shot straight across the room and hit Charlie on the back as he was gazing at his new little Peanut. They swept it up and stuffed it back in and it has never done its job quite right ever since. So what does this mean? This means that I cannot lift anything heavier than 30 pounds - without wetting myself. I cannot cough - without wetting myself. I cannot sneeze - without wetting myself. I cannot laugh - without wetting myself. Talk about SEXY! Woo hoo!

Now, I know I will be mortified the second this blog hits the internet. Did you just tell the internet you pee yourself all day? Yes, I certainly did. My hope that it is completely temporary. Already seen the doc and the good ol' Kegels are NOT gonna get it. It is at the point of requiring surgical intervention. Which, I have been assured will be successful...AS LONG AS I DO NOT LIFT ANYTHING OVER 5 POUNDS FOR 8 WEEKS! Oh, lovely. I went in, hoping to get this out of the way so I could get on with my former-young-feeling life. But, dang it, Anna is definitely not under the 5 pound limit. And, she's still in a crib, which requires SOMEONE to hoist her out after naptime. Besides? How can I not lift that sweet baby up in the air and kiss all over her "beh-buh" (belly-button)? Impossible.

So, it looks like I will enter my 40's well-entrenched in the joys of aging. Some of us get to sail through them looking better than ever (Sheryl Crow, Courtney Cox.) No, I'm carrying my industrial sized Costco box of pantyliners with me into the next decade. Blah.

Just a little Halloween fun...

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If I could turn back time...

So, my sweet little Moey-Pamoey made a comment the other day, and it really struck me hard. She said, "I wish I had a pic like that of me in MY daddy's hands. Too late though, I don't think he could hold me like that NOW!" That girl is SOOOOO funny! I mean, she keeps me in stitches! Seriously, she is going to be great entertainment when I'm old in the nursing home. All my nursing home buddies will come to my little room whenever she comes to visit!

Anyway, the pic she is referring to is this one of Peanut in Dancin' Jimmy's hands:

It really made me think. I look at all these sweet photos of OTHER PEOPLE all the time and wish I go back in time and take those of my older girls when they were little. I wasn't into photography at this level back then. Oh how I wish I could have pics like that of them. The other thing that strikes me is, I don't have many pics of me and my girls together. I'm hardly in any GOOD ones. My goal for this next month is to get some good pics of me and my girls....our whole family for that matter.

As much as I want a good family portrait, I also really wish I had some good around-the-house-moments of us. I've gotten so busy with other people's pictures, that I don't take many of my own. If it weren't for the beautiful, wonderful, amazing, iPhone...I'd hardly have many at all!

So, anyway, this wasn't as much a blog, as it was a rambling chain of thoughts that I just felt like sharing. You guys - take your kids to get photographed. Not necessarily by me - just do it! In fact, here's a list of photographers (and my mentors) that I HIGHLY recommend!

Love-love,

Kim

MEMPHIS

Patrick Clough (www.patrickclough.com)

Allison Barker (contact me for info)

Nathan Rye (www.nathanrye.com)

Chris Morey (http://ciras-imaging.com/)

ACROSS THE NATION

Jessica Cudzillo (www.503photography.com)

Kim Pace (www.kimpacephotography.com)

Tara Kuhlow (www.tarakuhlow.com)

Julie Foskett (www.foskettphotography.com)

To my Tweeps...

Today has been a good one. Although, Peanut didn't get her nap in this morning, refused to let me Skype pleasantly with my Twitter friends and mother-in-law, and had a meltdown this afternoon about how many steps she was allowed to climb without mom.

Regardless, today is good. My life is good. My children are amazing. Breathe.

What is it that takes us into that swirling storm of emotions that make us feel like typing in all caps on some days, and over using the colon/parenthesis :) on others? What makes a day feel like this one? Today feels like sunshine, unicorns, and rainbows. Like, I totally expect that if I were to open my window right now, a pretty little blue bird will actually land on my hand, while I sing a happy melody in my operatic voice, enjoying the blue birds' friends as they decorate my hair with ribbon.

That's today. But, some days, well...some days it's as though I am Cinderella - only more so the "Cinder" part. Like, it takes every cell in my body arguing with the next to finally heave my non-jogger-exerciser-morning-person body from the bed. Everything everyone does makes me crazy. Those days when I feel like I cannot please anyone, although every move I make is for other people. Those days, you feel like crying because you just can't win.

I think that's why we Facebook, Tweet, text, email, Skype, call. To keep us sane. We need the people on the other end who are having a good day, to be there for those who are having a not-so-good day. We need to know we aren't the only ones that feel like running-screaming from the building. That we aren't crazy for THINKING about eating a gallon of ice-cream, hiding from the children in the closet, tossing every sock in the trash and buying new ones, or opening a beer at 10:00 AM. We all have those thoughts, and when we moms (and dads) communicate them to others - well, it helps us NOT do those things!

So, today - a shout out to my Twitter and Facebook buddies! You are all beautiful and you are all counted among friends. Have a great weekend!

Love,

kimjay_everyday :)

Have patience...

Ughhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously. I - am - not - a - good - patient. And, there is something really achingly ironic that PATIENT and PATIENCE are such similar words. Well, okay, ironic is probably not the best word since they are probably in some way related. But, I am not a patient person, and I'm not a good patient. And, I'm really tired and whiny right now. (Just heard about 100 of you click off this blog.)

This past week...the flu.

It all started with a head ache. Okay, change of weather. 15 out of 22 days in Memphis were rainy. Get it. Head ache. Then, last Sunday morning, I woke up certain I would puke my guts up if someone turned on the lights. Skipped church, layed around on the couch in between Peanut naps, and my sweet girls took care of me.

Okay, gonna will myself to feel better - after all, Charlie comes home from prison tonight! Shower, deo for the B-O, I feel better! Right? Maybe. That was Sunday night. By Monday afternoon, I was OUT OF COMMISSION. Like, involuntarily. There was going to be no more "willing myself to get better." Fever cannot be willed. And, maybe it was just this flu virus, but dang it - I'll be 40 in a couple of months - and fever at 40 is WAY worse than fever at 20.

Now, there was a time in my life where I would have been THRILLED to get sick and miss school, work, whatever! Woo hoo! I got to stay home, watch the Price is Right, eat my Mama's potato soup, sleep all day. Woo hoo! Now, however, not so much.

When you are the mom - all bets are off. All that rest and relaxation goes out the window. Even when you have an amazing husband, who takes your baby to your mom's to live until you get better, you still lie there wondering, Did he remember to take the extra sheet for her school mat? Did Morgan get her permission slip signed? Does Bradyn have on matching clothes? And, on and on and on....

Then, you wait. You watch TLC, Oprah, Dr. Phil, and wait. Alone. The alone part was nice for a day or so. Take it from someone who commented on Twitter:

That alone time was nice. But, the frustration that I could not coordinate the muscles and tendons and blood vessels in such a way as to hoist myself up the stairs to get some work done - was getting to me. The fact that I had SOOOOO much to do BEFORE I got sick, was absolutely making me crazy. I cannot stand to not hold up to my word, make people wait, or sit and do nothing while there is a ton of stuff to be done. Hate it. But, finally I gave into it.

Now, it's the Monday after, and I still have a headache. I have whined and complained on Facebook, Twitter, the phone, email, text. (Told ya - not a good patient.) Everything I hear back? "You just gotta give it time." "It took me two weeks." "Rest and plenty of fluids." Blah, blah, blah. I want a miracle drug! I want a magic potion! I want to be well NOW!

All the while, a song is running through my head. A song from a little musical we put on at church when I was little, Music Machine. I went to YouTube, and found a cute little girl singing the song going through my brain right now..."Have Patience." Enjoy!

Like a baby with my days and nights mixed up...

Frustration. There. That's pretty much the jist of this blog entry. Seriously, I could just leave it there and spare you the whining and complaining and everyone would be much better off. However, for some reason, it just feels good to get it all out. And, for some reason, we women (at least) love to commiserate. So let's get our hands dirty in a little whining shall we?

First off, it's 1:31 AM!!! It is totally 1:31 in the morning and I am wide awake on the couch (so as not to awaken Dancin' Jimmy) typing a blog entry on my iPhone application with my two little thumbs. What is wrong with me? I am totally like a baby who has its days and nights mixed up. I've been in this flu-coma all week and have lost a grip on space and time, it seems. I layed in bed (Is that correct? Layed? Lied? Who even really cares? It's 1:35 AM now and there is not even a baby awake up in here! Up in here, up in here.)

Where was I? Oh yeah, I layed in bed for over an hour hoping to fall asleep with my husband who is finally home - braving the posibility that he might catch something from me.

But, to no avail. Still awake. Got up, prayed, journalled. Still, awake. Went back to bed in hopes of slumber. Nothing. Got up, felt my way into the bathroom closet (dang, I'd be an awesome blind person) and found the Nyquil in the pitch black. Now, I'm here on the couch waiting for the sweet sleepiness it promises. You know, "Coughing, aching...blah...blah...blah...so you can rest...medicine." My mind going a million to nothing.

What about you ask? Oh, wouldn't you like to know! Wouldn't you like to know that I have sooooo much catch-up to do at work...all the while, knowing that it will be competing with Peanut and the laundry and the girls tomorrow? Wouldn't you like to know that I am the most insecure person on the planet and am up at now, 1:45 AM wondering why so-and-so doesn't like me? Wouldn't you like to know that I am worried about my sweet husband who has juggled everything this week to take care us? That I still feel like puking? That I am thinking about just letting myself go? Oh, wouldn't you just like to know!!!!

Whew! That felt good. Like, seriously good. And, I didn't even scratch the surface. I'm going to try to keep my head about me and not go into a sort of "drunk blogging" on cold meds. (Yes, iPhone, I meant "meds" not to be confused or auto-corrected with "mess"!) You know, like that "drunk texting" thing Hoda and Kathie Lee did a spot on. Yep. Better stop there. Here's hoping I don't get up tomorrow and feel the urge to DELETE this entry. Maybe, just maybe, that yawn will be followed with another and another...and...zzzzzzz.

Night-night.

Getting your bluff in...

Had to get my bluff in the other day. "Huh?" you say? Yep. Had to get my bluff in.

"Getting your bluff in," is a parenting technique taught to me by my mother, probably passed on and on and on through the generations. It is OH SO IMPORTANT. What it means, is simply - letting "them" (those little darlings) know that you ain't gonna take no crap - and you'll put your money where your mouth is. The key is, getting a REALLY good one in, so they know you have NO PROBLEM with the small stuff.

The first time I had to "get my bluff in" was in 1997 with sweet Moey-Moey-Moey-Pamoey (my 15 year old.) We were in the grocery store, you know, that wonderful place we mothers LOVE to take our toddlers. Because, they NEVER act up in there! Oh, no! There's NOTHING for them to grab, throw, or beg-whine-cry for! Well, there we were. Last aisle. Almost done. Basket is FULL. I mean, I'm leaning-in to the basket to get it to turn the corners. Morgan is sitting in the little kid spot of the basket. And, it starts.

The whining, the begging, the temper after being told "no." And then I said it, "If you do not stop, and start behaving like a big girl, Mama is going to take you to the car, and spank your bottom. Then, we will go home and you will not have treats the rest of the day." GULP. What did I just say???? Crap! Now I've got to do it! And, of course Morgan looked at me like "Oh yeah? Seriously, mom. You're gonna stand there and tell me that YOU, are going to leave a full basket of groceries in the store?" And there it was. The line drawn in the sand by my 3 year old. I could hear my mom's voice in my ear, "You have to get your bluff in!"

So, I did it. This story brings back so many conflicting feelings. Do you know how hard it was for me to pick her up out of that basket and just LEAVE IT THERE?!?!? Right smack in the middle of the freezer section? In hind sight, I totally wish I had at least taken it to the front and given it to a store clerk. But, at the time, I was horrified enough for leaving it at all - I just wanted to get out of there.

I calmly (at least outwardly) walked to the car, Morgan squirming and whining and begging for mercy the entire way. When I got to the car, I opened the front passenger door, and sat her there facing me. Morgan was shocked speechless at this point (a miracle if you know her) and I had her full attention.

The speech went something like this:
"Morgan, I love you with all of my heart. God gave you to me to teach you how to love Him, and how to be a young woman who can control herself no matter how hard it is. The way you were behaving in that store did not make me proud. I told you that if you continued, I would do this, even though I really-REALLY do not want to, I must, because I keep my promises."

I stood her up, spanked her little bottom, and then hugged her while we both cried. We got her up into her carseat and went home to an empty pantry and a few hours of book-reading in my lap.

That was one of the hardest days of my life. But, it was sooooo fruitful. After that day, when I told Morgan the consequences, she KNEW I had the cohonies to follow through (even when I wasn't sure I had them myself.)

I've had to get my bluff in with Bradyn and Anna (yep even Anna has seen it already), but, luckily for Bradyn, she was able to witness me "putting my money where my mouth is" with Morgan, making her a believer without too much first-hand experience. Although, adolescence is a whole new ballgame for my Sweet Little Brady Lady.

Anna, well, Anna has a lot of her big sister Morgan in her. (I have no idea WHERE they get it???) :) One day about a month ago, she was throwing a temper tantrum over something as important as say, Mama not letting her throw away the remote control. I know, I'm so mean! With our hardwood floors on top of slab, I'm so worried she's gonna knock herself out cold in her temper-thrashing and head-banging anger. So, when she revved up a tantrum, I just moved her to the rug in the den and walked away so she couldn't see me.

That little rascal! I heard silence and thought, "Yay, that was quick." Then, she comes back into the kitchen, lies down on the floor and starts the tantrum back up for my viewing pleasure. Only his time she is MAD! She can't give it her full effort because she knows it will hurt. She stopped. Looked at me (as I used every bit of resolve I had - not to smile at her little show), and then came over and hugged my legs crying. Sooooo precious!

So, I guess this blog is a reminder to myself of the task at hand. Tools, lessons, techinques...things I had forgotten with the ten-year gap between my two youngest. It truly is like starting over. You really do forget a lot. And, I wonder EVERYDAY if I am still up to the task. Thank God for my Mom, my friends, and my Twitter mom-friends for moral support! Fist-bumps for everyone!

A cry for help...

So, I was perusing my old family photos recently and made a realization that I am shocked - slash - ashamed - slash - reluctant to reveal...

I WEAR THE SAME FREAKING THING EVERY FREAKING DAY!

Now, I know - harsh language - but this is really serious. I am a Southern Woman for Heaven's sakes! For the love of all that is classy and fashionable, I NEED HELP! So, today's blog is a cry for someone to PLEASE, I beg you - TURN ME IN TO WHAT NOT TO WEAR!

{Send this link (http://kimjayeveryday.blogspot.com/2009/09/cry-for-help.html) to whatnottowear@discovery.com}

I submit to you, Exhibits A-K - A THROUGH K, PEOPLE!

Exhibit A, Charlie and I on our honeymoon in Maui, June 2007.

Exhibit B, Me and Anna two weeks after she was born, May 2008.

Exhibit C, Me and Mama, Lucy and Anna June 2008.

Exhibit D, Me and Anna in new house in Memphis, July 2008.

Exhibit E, Me and Anna after her one-year birthday party, May 2009.

Exhibit F, Me and Mama at Lucy's birthday party, February 2009.

Exhibit G, Me and my nephew, Justin - our first Christmas in Richmond, December 2007.

Exhibit H, Me and Charlie four months after we met - at Lakehouse, June 2006.

Exhibit I, Me, Bradyn, Anna, Charlie, and Morgan last Sunday at Memaw's 80th Birthday Party, September 2009.

Exhibit J, Me and Anna and Moey at a party, July 2009.

Exhibit K, Me and my sister-in-law, Christina at poker night in Richmond, August 2007.

This is my "uniform" as my mom calls it. Black Old Navy, v-neck t-shirt (from 1999, because all the new shirts these days are SO THIN!), jeans (in varying sizes over the years), and my favorite black flip-flops. Those flip-flops have traveled the world! (Maui, Cancun, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Bahamas, Bonaire) I seriously want to be buried in this. It is so comfortable. Sure, I "dress it up" with a change of earrings (See Exhibit E) or in the winter, I'll wear a sweater over it (See Exhibit F), but it's the same. It's an easy outfit I don't have to think about. What's wrong with me?

Okay, so I think it is more than apparent that I need PROFESSIONAL HELP! Right? Who agrees? I mean, I know there is probably a large majority of those of you who know me personally, who have actually had these thoughts before - about my limited apparel choices. So, what can you do to help?

TURN ME IN!

{Send this link (http://kimjayeveryday.blogspot.com/2009/09/cry-for-help.html) to whatnottowear@discovery.com}

Email the link to this blog, RE-TWEET like crazy, tell your friends, buy a billboard - MAMA NEEDS A NEW SET OF CLOTHES! If we all pull together, I think we can make a difference!

Your unfashionable friend,

Kim

It's tough being a woman...

Sigh. So much in my brain right now. Let's see if I can pull off this blog without an inordinate amount of rambling. Tell me if you begin to squirm. :)

Just got home from the very first session of our women's Bible study at church. My Sweet Little Brady Lady is going to do the study with me! I absolutely cannot tell you how happy I am that she is. I just about have the absolutely most wonderful daughters on the planet. I asked Morgan to, but she just finished this same study in her small group and didn't want to do it again. Plus, she is cranked at school. But, Bradyn accepted my offer - and I think - no, I KNOW it is God-ordained.

We are doing the Beth Moore study, Esther, It's Tough Being a Woman. (How appropriate is THAT in MY stage of life!?!?!?!?!?) We sat there together, listening to the introductory video, laughing at Beth Moore. I was so proud of my little girl, filling in all the blanks - the youngest member of our Bible study group. I scribbled in the cover of the workbook, "Let's do our study everyday - and talk about each day's homework before bed. Wanna?" To which she scribbled, "Sure!"

Now, don't go thinking that is a normal thing. That, from birth I've had these kids on their knees and at the kitchen table doing their Bible lessons every day. Not even close. Even in the times of my life that I actually stuck with a priority time each day, it was while they were at school - not when they were home to see that mom spends time in the Word. I wish I had been a better example of a godly woman who teaches her girls to crave the Word of God. But, now we will begin again.

So, to the main point of this blog. Something Beth Moore said in the video last night, "It's tough being a woman, but I am so glad that I am!" To which, what seemed like a katrillion Houstonite women in attendance, followed with enormous applause. Me, my eyes welled up with tears and I frantically wiped them dry before anybody (especially Bradyn) could see. Why? I just didn't get it. What is so good about being a woman for goodness sakes!?!?!? I was so downtrodden (how do you like that Bible word?) with the guilt and envy I feel because I'm not just overflowing with happiness about being a woman.

I'm so worn down with all the inequalities between men and women. I'm not talking about fair pay, fair treatment, etc... I'm talking about the day-to-day normal stuff. I've even blogged about it all before. The shaving, the "chocolate time of the month", the responsibilities, the hormones...all of it. I drove home, listening to my precious daughter talking about how God had prepared her ahead of time for this lesson - because they are studying King Xerxes and the Persian Empire at school (public schools are okay by me!) Then, dang it....it occurred to me...this is not a conversation she might have with her dad. I'm special. We get to share girl stuff.

So, today, I'm going to make a list for ME. A list of the cool things about being a woman. So, that I will maybe understand those crazy women clapping for Beth Moore:

• Women get to cry for no reason. And, it usually works things out for them.
• Women get to talk to each other - about more than work or sports.
• Women get to be moms, which includes: REAL baby's breath on your face in the morning, endless cuddling, fixing your daughters' hair for the prom, playing dolls, being favored over anyone else on the planet for at least two years.
• Women don't get hairy ears.
• Women don't have to look any direction and cough at the same time.
• Women get to smell their husband's necks when they hug.
• Women get to hold their Daddy's hand even when they are 39.
• This is a new one for me - women are protected by their husbands. (Charlie won't let me go to prison this weekend because he doesn't want me to be the only woman these guys have seen in months. I adore him for that.)
• Women can hold her baby in the middle of the night, and everything is suddenly okay for them, no matter how old they are.
• Women are beautiful!

But, make no mistake, no matter if this works or not...no matter if I become the biggest fan of womanhood in the world...my hair will never be as big as that sweet Beth Moore! J/K Seriously, every time we start a Bible study like this, we always seem to begin with the question, "What do I want to get out of this?" My answer? I want God to change my heart and give me a passionate love for being what He created me as: a woman.

Big, fat, wet, sloppy kiss to all my girlfriends! We rock!

Kim

Kim Jay Everyday Photography
www.kimjay.com

In the category of Best Ex-Wife of the Year, the award goes to...

So, I get an email the other day:

Hey Kimberley -

Was wondering if you'd be available to shoot us (the girls, Andrea and me) the weekend we come into Memphis? I know you're schedule is nuts, so if you can't I completely understand.

Thanks!

Randy

Of course I had to say it, "With a gun or a camera?"

"Randy," for those of you who do not know, is my EX-husband (married 14 years.) We have been divorced since January of 2006. One month and twelve days before I met the amazing Dancin' Jimmy. (Still smile and get all happy when I think about meeting Charlie.)

Hmmmmm......what to do? My first thought is, "Ugh. THAT won't be awkward AT ALL!" Then, I'm all, "So, I have to hang out with my ex-husband and his wife while they are here?" Then, I talk to Charlie and ask him if I should beg-out or not. He encouraged me to do it...for the girls. Now, don't get me wrong. It's not like we hate each other, or that I don't like the new Mrs. Randy, it's just something that you don't exactly get pumped about.

The thing is, and I know I'm like a freak of nature, but I actually enjoy and am heartened by the fact that my children have a good family with both parents. It was weird the first time Bradyn told someone that she had "two moms." You can imagine, that is not something you really ever get used to - having pushed that sweet girl out of my body. Is it fair that the new Mrs. Randy would get the same title? She barely ever gets to spend time with them. She doesn't have to get her to doctor's appointments, or take care of her when she is sick, or pick her up from an endless string of sleep-overs with her girlfriends.

But, I get a feeling by watching them all together, that Mrs. Randy II does indeed love our Sweet Little Brady Lady. And, you know what? I'm okay with that. Even, I'm really happy about that. I guess that is what true love is. When you want what's best for someone despite your own feelings. The fact that Morgan and Bradyn have a whole boat-load of Italians in Philadelphia that love my children, is okay by me. More people in this world to help me love those wonderful girls - who deserve every bit of it!

So, off I went, with my little camera bag. It was a little strange at first being the outsider, the odd one out in a family picture that included my girls, but not me. But, we made it work. At one point, I asked Randy and Mrs. Randy II if they wanted a pic of just them two. I'm all, "Put your arm around her...act like you love each other." You know, what I tell all my clients. Then, I realized how weird that was. I stopped, put my camera down, and said, "So, do I like win best ex-wife of the year, or WHAT?!?!?!" They both laughed and she said that definitely I do. I jumped up ready to head to the next spot and said, "You can totally have him!" Lots of laughing and everything was fine.

When I was about 11 (I think), my best friend's parents divorced. It was devastating. They seemed like the absolute perfect family in every way. All I could think about at the time was, If THEY could get a divorce, MY parents certainly were vulnerable. I cried and cried and cried. Several years later, as adults, we attended a party for the mother's birthday. I was so shocked and weirded-out by my friend's father being there with his new wife. The mother's new husband also there. They were all carrying on like they were one big happy family. Although weird to ME, later - as I was dealing with MY divorce - I realized what was going on.

See, even though this couple couldn't make it work together, they had one crucial thing in common...they loved their children enormously. I was keenly aware when Randy and I were splitting - that my actions didn't hurt Randy as much as they would hurt my kids. And, it would definitely make them come down on HIS side if I showed my tail. I just love them too much to disparage their DNA-donor in any way. They are a part of him.

There you go. I took my ex-husband's family pics today. And, I hope they turn out okay. I hope my kids know how much I love them. How I want so badly for them to be happy in every way and will do EVERYTHING to make sure they are.

To my dear, sweet, babies...

I have been increasingly aware of the short amount of Morgan's time left with me as her "mom." She will be leaving for college in less than three years! All three of my daughters are growing at warp-speed up in here. Most days are absolutely chaotic, stressful, and ridiculously wonderful. Some days, your heart is breaking. Some days you want to lock them all in the closet and protect them from the world. Somedays, you feel like sending them off into the world will protect them from YOU.

So, I have been accused (probably rightfully so) of being the strictest mom ever - a lot lately. But, in all fairness, I have a really good excuse. You see, girls, mommy is neurotic. Which, basically means that I feel like everything that goes wrong in everyone's life around me is my fault. In the deepest darkest corners of my heart, I worry that if you do not have the most wonderful, fulfilled, godly life....then, it is somehow a result of something I did or did not do for you. This doesn't help:

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it." (Proverbs 22:6-NIV)

Oh man. That's a LOT of pressure, cause...what if I do it wrong? What if my child grows up and TURNS FROM IT? It's all too much. So, I try. I have been trying my best, definitely not THE best, but MY best - since you were born to teach you everything you should know and do to be who God wants you to be, and to be a happy person. Just in case I have forgotten some stuff, here's a basic list of the "biggies":

1. "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and, Love your neighbor as yourself." (Luke 10:27) - okay, so I KNOW one of the three of you just rolled your eyes and it WASN'T the baby because she cannot read! It's true, though. Not just the weekly Bible verse. If I had held onto and obeyed this one verse just 50% more in my life, I could have avoided probably 100% of my problems today. It's not just enough to go to church, youth trips, know the Bible...you gotta love the MAN. Jesus, specifically. It makes all the difference. If you never did anything else in your life but got this one - you're gold. And, if you make loving others a lifestyle, so many hurt feelings can be avoided. Okay, done preaching on that one.
2. Once you're down with number 1, then you've got this one. Don't worry about what other people think. Period. You can waste a terrible amount of time in your life worrying about why this person likes you, that person hates you. What did I say wrong? What did I do wrong? Not just the bad stuff. When others complement you, hold it up against the measuring stick of Christ. Accept complements on God's behalf, cause you wouldn't have done or been ANYTHING without Him.
3. Represent. Seriously. A lot of grief in my teenage/college years was spared because I didn't want to let Dennis or Susan Roaten down. Not to mention, Hillie or Irma Roaten, or Lee or Ruth Jerkins. The times I did screw up, well, it broke my heart to have to come to my parents and tell them what I had done. In all the world, I never wanted to let them down. Making them proud is just about what I live for. I mean, come on! What girl can bear to see her Daddy sad because of her!?!?!?!? Well, my hope is that you love and respect me, your dad, and Charlie, just enough to think about the consequences to those around you, for the things you do. You'll want the same from your kids one day, promise.
4. Finally, be yourself. Please...please don't ever try to be something you're not. Honesty and integrity are everything. Be honest in everything you do, and everything you are. What do you have, if you have a ton of friends because of someone they only THINK that you are? There are plenty of people on this planet to love you for the amazing people you really are...and you are!
5. Find a man who loves Jesus, and he will love you almost as much. If you find a man who rocks your world, marry him - and always put him first. If the boy you're considering for marriage doesn't rock your world - go on to the next one. 'Nuff said.

I love you more than you can ever imagine...that is, until one day when you have a son or daughter of your own. And, as my mother always told me, "You're gonna love me so much more after you have children!" (That is so true. That's why Nana gets flowers on MY birthday!) You can talk to me about anything, and I promise to try to listen without judgement. You are my joy, and my life.

Love,

Mama

Just a few more days and then...off to the lake!

Today...was bearable. Nay, shall I even venture to say it? Enjoyable? What?!?!? Me? NOT whine?

Seriously, I would just like to apologize for the whining lately. Maybe hormones. Maybe stress. Maybe sleep-deprivation. Maybe just self-centeredness. Maybe all of the above. But, I admit it.

Today however, today was good. Beautiful outside! I opened the windows on our screenless house, and I haven't even complained about the flies buzzing around now. Peanut devoured dinner without a fight (albeit seriously messy!) The older girls actually GOT-ALONG. Nobody complained at dinner - even though we are at the END of groceries. Like, we have NOTHING in the pantry. (Ugh, gotta do the Costco run, and seriously...it might take two trips. We need EVERYTHING! It would be easier to make a list of what we DO have, than what we need at this point.)

I stayed up late again last night working on photos and got a fair amount done. So, life is good. Life will be absolutely PERFECT come Saturday morning when we get out on the BOAT! Cannot wait. The lake is my zanadu (only without Olivia Newton-John and skates.) I love, love, LOVE...the lake. Nothing else like it. Quiet. Warm. Fresh air. Rocking of the boat. My mama's food. Mmmmmm....cannot wait! It is worshipful.

Now, we have gotten a lot of grief in the past about missing church for the "lake." But, what people do not understand, is that we aren't the typical lake people. Well, let's face it, my parents aren't typical people. But, I can say with every bit of honesty in my human bones, that worship happens at the lake. Especially when the worship leader of all worship leaders is there...my mom. We have been known to sing hymns while cooking. We have been known to hold hands and pray at the boat dock, even if it is to ourselves. Being with my parents - living with my parents - growing up with my parents has been a lifestyle of worship. And, doggone it! I love it! Would have never admitted that as a teenager having to hold hands with my brothers and sing in the Smoky Mountain National Park - but I whole heartedly admit it now.

Taking a mommy break...

So, I have been dealing with a sick baby this week. And, a sick mom (me.) Whenever I get sick during one of my busy times, times where I'm so behind at work that I feel completely overwhelmed, I start having serious conversations with God that go something like this...

Me: WHY? Why do I have to get sick RIGHT NOW? Why can I not just get sick in January or possibly a Monday? No, I have to get sick when I have 10 sessions to edit, four sessions booked this week, and my baby is sick, too. God, any way we can just post-pone this little virus or whatever? I mean, isn't it kind of like adding insult to injury?

God: Are you insinuating that I made you sick?

Me: Well, no, of course not, but can't you do something? I mean, I haven't even had time to BLOG! (Well, except for showing everyone that trick you gave me about the fitted sheet.)

God: Seriously? I mean, REALLY?

Me: Oh dear, yes. Please forgive my selfishness. I'm sorry. I know there are worse problems in the world, and you ARE blessing my photography business in amazing ways. I'm just having a hard time coping with the whole working from home thing again, I guess.

God: I know, my sweet Kim. You'll be okay. I promise. Remember, I will not ever give you anything you cannot handle. I love you!

Me: Oh, I love you, too! You are the MAN! Just forgive me for not remembering that. Help me get a grip!

I probably have that conversation several times every day. Do I have short term memory loss or something? Don't answer that - it might come out the wrong way. :) So, anyway. I was filling orders, answering emails, processing photos this week when Anna was being especially good in my office playing. And it struck me...I haven't taken a picture of my own child in weeks!

She is so incredibly beautiful. Such an amazing gift from God.

Here she is, my little Peanut.

How to fold a fitted sheet...

Okay, you asked for it, here it is! This is concrete and undeniable proof that I am the biggest nerd on the planet. I cannot cook worth a crap, or nurse a baby, but dang it...I can fold a fitted sheet!

Enjoy.....

Women my daddy looks up to...

So, let me first start by telling you guys that I am well aware that you are probably sick of hearing how great my daddy is, but man! God just threw Himself overboard when He created mine. I have to say, I know how lucky I am. Both of my parents are incredibly wonderful in their own ways. And, I guess I don't give my mom enough props for her part of wonderful. But, I just cannot let today go by without sharing some more insights I have gained on behalf of my father.

Nadia Price Strid & Dennis Roaten (my dad)

Today my mom and dad and I attended a very informal, private, get-together to celebrate the 90th birthday of Nadia Price Strid. Now, I won't go into why she is amazing - go back and read my blog about her. Amazing. But, instead, I want to share how struck I am by the unusual way I was raised.

I was the oldest and only daughter of three children. The only granddaughter on my dad's side. A man's world. My mom had one chance for teaching sewing, cooking, and all those mom-things to, and she lost out on me. I got the sewing bug, but for the rest - well, I had more interest in helping daddy fix the car, cut the grass, build things in the shop, hunt, fish, whatever. My dad calls me the son he never had. (Then, he says my brothers are the sons he DID have.) And, even though I was the girl, he never treated me as such. Never told me to go inside and help mom with dinner. Never told me not to get my outfit dirty. Never expected anything less than for me to do anything I wanted in life. When my oil on my 1976 Datsun needed changing, he showed me how. When he needed more shingles on the roof, I hauled them up. When he worked on Saturdays, I was there. I was his shadow.

So, in my previous blog, I talked about how much my father looked up to Nadia (pronounced NAY-dee-uh), and how much he learned from her. Today during the party as he was introducing these absolutely BEAUTIFUL women to me, you could see and hear the respect and admiration he had for them. "This is Dr. Alys Lipscomb, one of the first women physicians in Memphis." "This is Nadia Price Strid, the first commercial photographer in Memphis." "This is Billy Price Carroll, one of Memphis' most famous artists."

Billy Price Carroll

Dr. Alys Lipscomb

Now, remember, my daddy is a guy.

Huh? You ask. Well, think about it. How many MEN do you know who have FEMALE role models? Seriously. During the cheesy "Olympic" moments on TV, how many men say their idols and mentors are women athletes? How many male TV newscasters name Barbara Walters as their role model? Usually, it's another woman giving the girl props. It is because of my daddy that I have this seed of inspiration deep down that makes me want to BE someone. That motivates me to try at least, to achieve. Because I am a woman, and I can. His love and admiration for the women in his life and in my parents' friendships have been the backdrop for my raising.

Friends like Nadia, who is an amazing photographer. Like Judy Sides who owns her own business at the salon. Like Linda Hamilton-Orr, the Avon World Sales Leader, who succeeds at everything she does. Like Nancy Willis who is an incredibly gifted teacher, friend, and mother. Like his mom, who took care of his dad and their household for more than 50 years. Like my mom's mom, who raised two girls as a widow before meeting Papa Tang. And, like MY mom, who he still thinks is the most beautiful woman on the planet (and I agree.) These are the women my dad has talked about my whole life. "So and so used to do this." "So and so once did this." "Oh, so and so can really do this." "You should do this." "You'd be great at this." And, on and on.

Men, take a lesson from my father if you are raising a girl. Teach her how to do what you're doing. Tell her who influences you and that you admire. (Not just the men.) Most importantly, LOVE their mothers. You'll have a wonderful daughter because of it. Hey, look at me! :) ( J/K - don't hate.)

Susan Roaten (my mom)

Kim Jay Everyday Photography
www.kimjay.com

The paparazzi...

Well, when people are more used to seeing you with a camera in front of your face than not, you tend to get a lot of this...talk to the hand. Seriously. I cannot tell you how many pictures just like these I have in my little Mac here. Tons. And, I really don't know who is worse. It is probably a close tie between Charlie (who, may I remind you, bought me the camera!) and Bradyn.

Okay, Charlie, I can kind of understand. He wasn't raised with a camera in his face like me and Bradyn were. I had my dad, and Bradyn had me AND my dad! But, it's a new thing for him. However, as long as we have been together, I've had a camera in his face. I mean, come-on! Have you seen you, Charlie?

But, Bradyn, well, she has no excuse. She's just so dang cute! And, she has had to deal with it from birth! Much like me. Only, boy, if I were to do this to MY dad, I'd be in big trouble. Why you ask? Because when I was a little girl, we were dealing with FILM. You know, that stuff you have to be real careful not to expose to light? That you kept in your fridge! FILM=MONEY. Now, my dad is, and always has been, a banker. I don't need to go any further with that explanation, now do we? Money is important. So, me and my brothers smiled and acted like we liked each other - or we got a knuckle on the head. Even if we looked like this:

Okay, so I wasn't exactly shy about smiling here. But, dang - if I had gotten a load of those knobby knees, yikes! I'd have been crying! But, in all fairness, my father DID brainwash me into believing that I wasn't the gawky redheaded buck-toothed goofball that I actually was. I thought I was as pretty as Dorothy Hamill.

Even the baby is getting in on the "talk to the hand" action. And, when she is not obviously and manually opposed to my photosession, she is oblivious to me completely. Like, I have YELLED at the nut to look at me. Jumped up and down. Shook my bu-twah (as Charlie puts it.) "Anna.... Anna.... ANNA!!!!!! Look at Mama! Hey Peanut! Helllllooooooooo! The isty, bitsy, spider.... How much is that doggie in the window..." UGH! Seriously. Until, finally, she just breaks down in tears from sensory overload...much like me on a Friday afternoon after toting Morgan and her girlfriends all over town with any number of Taylor Swift songs being serenaded to me the entire time.

So, to try another method. Distraction. Or, maybe focused distraction. How to get her to be distracted by something that is WHERE I WANT HER TO LOOK! Tried this (see below) with only about 5 minutes success. After an initial curiosity that probably went something like this, (My gosh, the woman has lost her mind!), she quickly returned to the 15 year old attitude of indifference. What can I say? She's an old soul.

Okay, so who wins the competition for best model? The one who just gives it their all every single time? I mean I don't even have to ask! They get in the shot any way they can, no matter what is going on. Almost, to the point of annoyance. I know you're thinking it is my sweet little 15 year old daughter, Morgan. Probably because she has not been mentioned yet. And, though Morgan is mostly a willing participant, she has had her days. But, the winner of the Camera Hog Competition: Jackson. The Donkey. Yes, you heard me correctly, The Donkey. I frequently take clients out to my parents' house which is on a few acres near my house. They have some sheep and now, a cute little donkey named Jackson. And boy, does he crack us up!

This picture is entitled, "I Had the Strangest Dream: there was a baby, and bubbles, and a donkey!" He is becoming sort of an institution in the Kim Jay Everyday Photography business. I have actually had people ask for me to include him in some photos. Well, he is happy to oblige, although I think he secretly enjoys the limelight solo. Last week, he stuck his head in the tire swing just after I removed a 2 year old from it. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen, so funny, in fact...I FORGOT TO TAKE A PICTURE!!!!!!!!!!

I'm flailing...

As you may have noticed, haven't blogged in several days. Partly because I have been so busy. Partly because I'm so tired. But, a big part because I just don't got nuthin' to say.

I don't feel witty, or clever, or interesting in the slightest right now. This whole blog thing is a strange world. When you start a blog, all you do all day long is ask yourself, "Should I blog about this?" Or maybe just a Tweet? Or probably a Facebook status update?

You kinda get caught up in it. Next thing you know, you're struggling with yourself about what you can blog about, and what you CANNOT! Let me tell you, there is a vast amount of stuff in my life I would love to blog about, but can't. So why even bother? Why am I spending all this time on something when I should be working? People in my life have been reading my blog, and they ask me why? Should they start one? Heck, my mom and my daughter did!

So, here's my list of "why's":

• Because I start feeling very isolated and lonely in this little house all day. I need more conversation that is less-centered around my toddler's "beh-buh." (Belly-button)
• Because I get the absolute nicest comments from mothers all over the world, and let's face it, who doesn't need positive feedback when you're a mom?
• Because I like the attention. Let's not kid ourselves.
• Because you can talk about yourself without offending anyone for hogging the conversation.
• Because I think maybe, just maybe, I will make someone else out there feel a little less alone - as they make me feel when I read their blogs.
• Because it is a way to constantly remind myself to be someone. BE SOMEONE!
• Because I have grown to love all you people out there.
• Because it is so free-ing to just be myself and not care what anyone else thinks. If you don't like what I say, don't read it. Easy, huh?

Now, I have also spent some time reading other blogs. My list of "why not's":

• If you just simply cannot make it through a blog without publicly humiliating your husband or teenage children (infants and toddlers are fair-game because, well, they can't defend themselves yet.)
• If you are hoping secretly that "someone" will read it so you can get away with telling them something through your blog that you should be saying in person.
• To embarrass anyone.
• To make money (you're going to be sorely disappointed here.)
• To share intimate details of your marriage that should be only discussed in private or in counseling.
• To annoy me. Ha, ha! Just kidding. Not really. Yes. No. Ha!

But, seriously...I digress. I just want to thank all of you who have encouraged me, read my blog, posted a link to my blog, re-tweeted my blog, or left a comment on my blog or Facebook. Thanks for your friendship, new and old. I've been blessed by you!