The Man is at the game edition

Did I ever mention the results of the Weblog Awards? It was a strong third place finish for Chatting at the Sky. Thank you all for voting. Receiving 2,891 votes is no small feat. And even though I lost by a good six thousand votes, I am happy with a bronze medal finish. Would be even happier if I actually got a bronze medal. But whatever.

Speaking of Lost, it comes back this week, Wednesday on ABC. It is going to be a premiere event, so you won't want to miss it. I love it when they add event to the ends of things to make them more important.

I went shopping with June today. She has a wedding to attend next month in cold, icy, shaped like a mitten Michigan. And North Carolina June has nothing to wear to a fancy, freezing, Michigan wedding. So we shopped and we searched and she sparkled. But no luck. At least not in the dress department. I consider myself extremely lucky to have spent some time with June, though. She is full of wild hilarity, that one. She once asked Does this dress make me look dead? It did not.

So even though we didn't find a dress, we were able to enjoy a fantastic lunch together. Well, I enjoyed a fantastic lunch and June stirred her soup a few times because the woman has no appetite, as her migraine medicine has changed her taste buds so that soft drinks are paint thinner and food is uninteresting. At least she doesn't have migraines.

Speaking of migraines, I hope this post hasn't given you one. I know it isn't the usual type of post, but The Man is at the Tarheels game so I have no one to talk with. Aren't you lucky?

I hereby declare skates are from the devil

What has 16 wheels, four eyes and speaks fluent Whine?
The twins wearing the worst Christmas gift ever. Back in August when they first asked for skates, I am confident they had visions of gliding down a smooth road at warp speed, waving at smiling dogs and happy neighbors while holding pink balloons. That is not what happened.
Skates are trouble. They are heavy and bulky and hurty and not tight enough and waaay too tight. Not to mention they like, move. On their own. Still, everyday since Christmas, they have begged me to take them out. I finally caved, tired of hearing myself make up excuses like We'll do that later or It's too cold outside or Well, we need to wait for Daddy to do skates because Mommy doesn't know how or I don't speak English.
After 20 minutes of velcroing Barbie elbow pads, knee pads, wrist pads and helmets, we finally managed to arrive outside in the minus 17 degree weather. I walked at a snails pace, both girls hanging onto my arms for their very lives. They were lucky they had all that padding. After a few laps around the cul-de-sac, I declared it to be too cold to function.
I think gifts that require excessive work from Mommy and/or lots of equipment and/or wheels should be banned until kids are 12. That is my new rule. So, do you have any gift disasters?

Tips for the Lazy Photographer: A Series

Photography is not my profession. I have never taken a class or read a book about photography. I have never read the manual that came with my camera. I don't know a lot of the technical terms, I shoot mostly in automatic and I utilize only 20% of my awesome Nikon D80.

Even so, my friends ask me questions about photography and trust me to take photos of their kids. Just yesterday, my friend Melissa was desperate for some photos of her two year old. Long distance Grandma wanted to see her baby. She knew she didn't want to drag him to Wal-Mart and get the posed ugly studio shots. She also knew she couldn't afford to hire a fancy photographer to take candid shots.

So she called me.

I'm not fancy. I'm no professional. I don't have Photoshop. But I can relate with Melissa because I don't want to spend the money or the time to have someone else to take pictures of my kids. So I am learning to do it myself.

Today was a cold, cloudy, wet ground kind of January day. Taking shots outside was not an option. One might be tempted to think that because we are taking indoor photos, we must use the flash. One would be mistaken if one thought that.

The first step to better photos is all about lighting. Look around your house for the most natural, warm light. If the kid has the perfect outfit with the perfect smile but the photo is too dark, it is hard to work with, especially if you don't have Photoshop like me.
In my house, the brightest room is our sunroom. Lined with windows and skylights, this room provides great light during most times of the day. Cloudy days are actually better, as I don't have to worry about shadows.
If I knew more about the manual settings on my camera, I could control the light and exposure a lot better. And the photo would be better for it. There is no doubt. But I haven't the energy, time, or motivation to learn about settings. So I put my dial on the "P" for "Program Mode" and shoot away. Sometimes when the lighting doesn't seem quite right, I do something real fancy: I make the photo black and white.
If you don't have a sunroom in your house, no worries. Just open wide your front door and plop the kid on the steps in the foyer.
No foyer? No front door? No problem! Find a bedroom with a window, pull those curtains back, sit your baby in a red rocker with a couple of trains and shoot away.
You may not get a frame-worthy photo every time, but you will get lots to choose from: some for you and some for Grandma. And you don't have to leave your house or pay a dime.

Related Posts:
Unpacking Treasure #4
Tripping Over the Awesomeness

new look, old fears

I'm standing at the edge of change here on this Monday morning. And I don't want to jump.

It has been in the works for a while now, these changes. The first was hurried along a few months ago when a new reader commented, asking if I was a scrapper (scrapbooker? scrapbook doer?) too. As you know, I am not. But from the looks of my blog layout, you would think otherwise.

Which is why change is coming. I'm not sure exactly when, as the Weblog Awards have interrupted my anticipated flow of the first change coming to be. (I think voting continues through today.) But don't be alarmed if one day you click to chat at the sky and discover a change. The sky will not have fallen, but the clouds may have cleared a bit. In other words, I'm gettin' a new layout, y'all. Stay tuned.

The second change is a bit more fuzzy. I am beginning to accept the fact that I am a writer. There is nothing more terrifying to discover, it turns out. Except maybe if I woke up with no teeth. That would be more terrifying. Still, I am stuck in a staring match with myself and my future. I'm winning. Fear is the perfect excuse not to act because, you know, I'm afraid.

And so I wait. Not the God kind of waiting where you don't want to wait but you know it is what's best for you and then you end up glad for the interim. Because even though I know the next step, I am instead sitting in the dark corner of comfortable, biting my nails, stuck between ignoring it and embracing it.

I know that is possible to jump in and be free. But I'm not quite there yet. So I wait for a grown up to tell me what to do. For a boss or a teacher or a parent to come, take me by the hand and give me instruction. But I also wait for the truth to feel true and for the fear to subside. I am beginning to think neither one is going to happen.

I suppose I'm just going to have to trust. I knew it would come to this.

still voting?

Thank you all so much for voting for Chatting at the Sky in the Weblog Awards. We are holding on to a solid third place position, which isn't too shabby considering that the competition has wielded some pretty strong endorsements, not the least of which is Keira Knightly. You know, the hot actress? With lots of fans? And lots of computers?

Remember you can vote once per day per computer. Feel free to ask your readers to vote too, as I know my winning a very nice but somewhat meaningless award is certainly at the top of your bloggy priority list. Thank you June, Kendra, Dana and Daisy, Laura and Nester for already doing this! You are so great.

And just think: if all my readers AND all your readers voted once a day for the next four days, it could really make a difference. Throw in the entire state of Rhode Island and we just might win this thing.

Voting continues until Monday January 12.

Here's a peek at my ballot for some contestants in other categories:

Best Parenting Blog: Blissfully Domestic

Best Diarist: Velveteen Mind

Best New Blog: Blog Nosh Magazine

Seriously, this has been fun. The begging for votes, the shameless promotion, the general selflessness of it all is quite refreshing.

As a thank you for voting, here are some before and after shots of my house. (Do I know my audience or what?)
The twins room the day we walked through the house for the first time and our heads began to spin...
And the twins room after our Fairy Godmother showed up to ready it for the ball. Cleans up nice, huh?
The downstairs hallway leading to the kitchen before we moved in. Check out the wood paneling.
The downstairs hallway now...with a little peek into some recent cabinet painting. But that's another post. Curious? Good. Now go vote.

on being important

In the sixth grade, I had to write an essay with the title When I Get Older. The first sentence went as follows: When I get older, I will look tan like my Grandma.
The essay continued in an equally ambitious manner: I won't die my hair. I will be short and small. I won't wear bell-bottoms but I hate it when Grandma's look 21, so I won't dress in fashion either.

For a page and a half I described all the things I would be when I got older. I would have lots of friends, I would host Christmas at my house, I would spoil my grandchildren.

The kicker though, was the final sentence of the essay. I will be important. That was the climax, right after I will work in an office - clearly the fastest way to importance.

Everybody wants to be important. We may not state it that way, as I did in the sixth grade. But everybody wants it, we just define it differently. I wonder what important looked like to me as a sixth grader?
If you are a Wemmick, importance belongs to whomever collects the most boxes and balls, as described in this book by Max Lucado.
I suppose as a kid, important had something to do with neon rubber bands in my braces and a tire swing in the backyard. As I grew up, if I made good grades, kept the peace and managed to get a boyfriend then I felt important.

As an adult, I often think about where I am finding my importance. Is it my role as a mother? My relationship with The Man? My college degree? Perhaps a better question is this: who gets to decide what makes someone important or not? How do we define worth?

Max Lucado suggests purpose and importance is defined by the inventor. If he invents the thing, then he gets to say how it works, what its for, why it was made. He's not the only one.

hands across America

I am so impressed with the Internet. Last night The Man and I began watching Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (No, I have never seen it. No, I have not read the book. No, I do not know what happens in the end.) Anyway, at one point we took an ice cream break and I checked my email and peeked in on the voting. I have to admit, I had a moment. I began to think about all the people I've met since I've started a blog.

At the risk of sounding cheesy and stupid, I have to tell you that I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for my Internet friends. I got emails and tweets of support from a bunch of the coolest people in webland.
Take June, for example. My sister discovered her last year and quickly became a worshiper I mean fan. Shortly after finding June online, we got to meet her in real life and now she lives close by. I couldn't have imagined meeting Internetty people in real life a few years ago.

It wasn't so long ago I remember hearing the the phrase windows on the computer and was totally confused. The Internet was not a vocabulary word I recognized even my senior year of high school.
Contrast that with last year at She Speaks, I walk into a room full of bloggers and these two blogging sisters walk up to me in recognition. From my blog. From the Internet. I keep up with Megan and Jami through their blogs and I'm so glad I met them.

I didn't have email until my sophomore year of college, and even then I remember sitting in my dad's office at our house, waiting for AOL to dial up. It took seven minutes just to connect. And that didn't even include actually sending an email.
Now, people I meet online end up being friends in real life. Like Kimba from A Soft Place to Land. She has a sister who lives nearby and when she came to visit, a bunch of us scrambled to meet her for real like. And Jen, who I've known of for years, but only since she's had a blog have I really gotten to know her.
The ultimate crazy is this: I was so sad when my sister moved out of town. But then, oh joy! She started a blog and now we have all kinds of bloggy adventures together.

I never would have imagine writing on the scary internet. Or reading what other people write on the scary Internet. But now, I can't get enough of Jennifer P. and Mindless Junque and Chickadee and Through A Glass Darkly and Out on a Limb. And then there's that weird Twitter that I'm still trying to figure out, with friends like Fussy and Karla and Robin.

There are so many more. Bloggers and non-bloggers alike. So thank you. For not being scary. For writing and entertaining and being funny and supportive and thoughtful and useful and all the other 'fuls. And thank you for voting for this small blog. I promise to have a post tomorrow that doesn't mention voting. As long as you keep voting. Every 24 hours. Hallelujah and Amen.

vote now!

The polls are finally open! I have discovered that you can vote once every 24 hours for the blog of your choice. But if you're reading this, I really hope you choose Chatting at the Sky. Once. Every 24 hours. Vote HERE. You are awesome.

in which I embark on the campaign trail

Last Monday morning I got an email from my friend June over at Bye, Bye Pie. The subject line read: Congratulations!!!! I immediately thought perhaps I was pregnant and didn't know it yet. Here is what her email said:

I just saw that you are up for a Weblog Award!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How cool are you!?! Congrats, girl! Perhaps I should have added a few exclamation points there. Your cool-by-association pal, June

I had to write her back and ask her what in the world she was talking about. I immediately went to the website and after scrolling down for approximately 17 minutes, I found my category listed just after Best Latino, Carribean or South American Blog.

Chatting at the Sky was nominated in the Best Small Blog category and judges (real judges!) narrowed it down to 10 finalists. And can you believe it? I'm one of them!

In true American Idol fashion, the blog with the highest number of votes wins. The polls open sometime today and stay open for about a week. There is a countdown widget on the site, but voting will begin sooner than that. We will be able to see the voting results instantly which is kind of nerve wracking and cool and panic inducing all at the same time.

Now, for the moment I know you've been waiting for:
That's ME on the left and MY BIG SELF on the right, asking for your vote. I promise not to call you My Friends or joke about lipstick on pigs or befriend Rev. Wright. You don't even need to leave your house. Just click here to vote.

Thank you for listening, voting and putting up with me. God bless you. And God Bless America.

sky chatting in 2008

Yesterday I talked about how I'm not going to be all sentimental and look back over 2008. But I'm alone on New Years Eve so what else am I supposed to do?! Here are a few highlights from Chatting at the Sky 2008. Click to enjoy.

Things Babysitters Wish We Knew
a four part series

Portrait of a Kitchen
our old house, sweet Sophie Marie

An Unlikely Voice
how my alcoholic Grandfather inspired courage in me

Senior Photos: Take Two
a glimpse into my love of photography

Chatting at the Sky
my purpose post

Here's to another year of discovering the holy and the humorous in the midst of everyday life.

new

There is a week between Christmas and the new year for the following reason: to give us time to clear the house of all things Christmas and prepare for spring. Right? Am I the only one who is ready for warm weather by December 26th? I am practically pulling out the spring clothes. Except for the fact that I never put them away because I am just not that organized. What good is winter without Christmas?

So I do things like this. I put shells in a jar with the starfish that was living in my Christmas garland just yesterday. And I display it as a reminder of good things to come.
Each December I panic at least once, worried that I'm not savoring the season completely enough. I anticipate the after-Christmas-letdown. I think that is a left-over fear from childhood. Because as an adult, I love after-Christmas. I love taking down the decorations and clearing out the extra stuff. I love the fresh and the new that comes with January. I always forget how ready I am for the future by the time it arrives.
Generally at years end, I look back and reflect and pour over sentiment of what the past year has held. But this time I am ready for 2009 and what it will bring. I am looking forward with excitement and anticipation. I'm throwing open the blinds and letting the sunlight of a new day pour in around me. There are things on the horizon of this new year only beginning to dawn in my heart. I look forward to sharing them with you.

In the meantime, I'm off to look for my flip flops.

find the baby, find the peace

Not only is this what Nana's house looked like on Christmas afternoon, it is also what my brain feels like this week. Finding the important in the midst of the crazy is a challenge today. But I know it is in here somewhere, hiding beneath all these piles of laundry and torn up gift wrap.

O holy night

how we do birthdays

This happens every year. Just as I begin to settle into the Christmas season, my girls begin to plan their birthday. They were born shortly after Christmas (seven whole weeks before their actual due date thankyouverymuch). Had they come on time, we wouldn't be doing their birthday until the middle of February. Which would have been great because nothing big happens in February.

This year they will be five. They have already made their invitations and have been busy making plans for what will happen on their birthday. So far, it is a coloring, pajama, balloon, cooking party and there are 473 people on the guest list. And they want strawberry cake. With purple icing.

One thing I know they won't want is for us to focus on who they were as babies. Although it is fun for them to see baby pictures and to hear stories from their birth, for the most part they want to talk about all the things they can do now that they are five: like get skates and go to kindergarten and help mommy make dinner.

So we will celebrate them. We will celebrate the fact that, even though they were born too soon, they were healthy and whole and well. And they have become little ladies full of joy and innocence and excitement for life. We will celebrate who they are now.
As I've thought about the way we do birthdays, I've considered the unique way we celebrate the birthday of Jesus. We sing about his birthplace, his virgin mother, his swaddling clothes, the manger. On Christmas, we celebrate Jesus as a baby.

Maybe it's because it seems more manageable and less offensive to think of Him as a baby than to think of Him as a man. I can handle a baby. But a man who claimed to be the the Son of God, Savior of the world?

He entered the scene of humanity in this most humble of ways and he did so on purpose. Beautifully. Ironically. But Jesus as a baby isn't such a big deal unless you know him as a man and why he came as a baby in the first place. What depth of joy is available to those who are able to transition from celebrating Jesus, the tiny baby in the manger to Jesus, the redeemer of our hearts.

spreading the christmas cheer

We are certainly enjoying a holly jolly Christmas season around here.

Evidently my kids forgot the first line of
Santa Clause is Coming to Town.
Merry Christmas from our happy family to yours.

clean house secrets revealed

The toy clutter is out of control. Like vines on brick, the Polly's and the dollies and the little matchbox cars are taking over my world one room at a time. And it has stressed me out to no end.

Until now. I have found the secret to a clean house. Wanna know what it is?



Someone please tell me why I haven't let this be okay before? It is genius, I tell you. And it is, quite simply, the best I can do. Gone are the days of putting toys where they belong. Just throw them in the middle and vacuum around them. I don't know how long uptight Emily is going to allow this to continue, but for now I am going to enjoy my new-found freedom. Merry Christmas to me.

come on-a my house

BooMama is having her annual Christmas Tour of Homes AND Julia at Hooked on Houses is having one, too. And as if that weren't enough, sweet Kimba is hosting an open house and its all just so much fun! I really really want to play. Is it okay to go to three parties at once? I'm thinking yes.

I've already shown my mantle, but here is a peek at some other little corners of the house. If this is your first time here, I offer you a heartfelt welcome. If you are a regular reader, here is your chance to nose around my new old house a little bit more. Come on in!
I bought the white thing at a yard sale and attached it in true Nester fashion. (she is my fabulously talented big sister. Aren't I lucky?) Then, I crammed it full of clippings from our yard. Cheaper than a wreath.

Our entryway.

A close up.
A closer up.

In case you missed it last week, here is a photo of the longest garland ever.

and here it is with fire.

I realized this year after 8 years of marriage, I have very few sentimental ornaments for our tree. Unless I can include how excited I was when I found these at Target's after-Christmas sale.
I still remember how sweet it was to see the sign: 90% off. With a quick glance over my shoulder, this pig was mine. All mine. Ahhh....memories.

That's me, distorted face and all,
wishing you a Merry Christmas from my home to yours.

Now go check out all the other homes on the tour at BooMama's blog...
And when you're done with that, you can link up at Julia's as well.
And THEN, click over to Kimba's just for kicks and look at HER beautiful home.
Have fun and thanks for visiting!