The fruits of our labor:
Thanks to Nicole, Linda, Eric, Kristina, Amy, Dan, and Jessica for coming over and cutting up gourds with us. Nicole even brought Pumpkin Ale. Made me miss Bethany.
Killian turned eight weeks old yesterday. He’s a big huge boy. I can’t get over it. Yesterday ended up being kind of tough. I was in a foul mood all morning and couldn’t seem to shake it. There are some days when I don’t read the news. Yesterday was one of those days.
We threw our third annual pumpkin carving party last night, and to prepare, I went to the store after we had lunch. I made sure Judah had gone to the bathroom, and got her ready. I changed the boy’s diaper and made sure he was nursed and burped and ready. I got the stroller put together, checked to make sure I had everything in my bag, made sure my list was written, checked to make sure I had the grocery bag… Check, check, check, and check.
And we were off. We walked to the post office first and checked the mail, and then made our way to the grocery store. I did all my shopping, while trying to explain to Judah why it’s important NOT to take all the specials stickers off the shelves, and got in line to check out. I dug in my bag (it’s not a purse, just so you know. a purse can’t carry diapers and wipees and sweaters for three and a sling. by the way.) for my wallet. And couldn’t find it. Really, where was my wallet? Not there. Oh, the wipees were there. The diapers were there. Judah’s toys were there. Even my pocket-sized Bible was there. But no wallet. Beautiful words began escaping my lips and I thought this was a beautiful thing to happen to round off my beautiful morning on the way to my beautiful day since I just lost my beautiful wallet.
So I left all my groceries and my Trader Joe’s bag at the vacant checkout next to mine, and walked home to try to find my wallet, panic rising the whole way. I had been out all afternoon Tuesday and was afraid it had been lifted out of my bag or that I had left it at the coffee house, or worse, the park, and that someone had cleaned out our accounts, our business accounts and our credit card and that I was in a load of headache. I called Joshua to ask him if he knew where it was and he said no. I got home, dumped out my entire bag. No wallet. I checked the top of the desk, inside the desk, and the drawers. No wallet. I checked the dresser and the dresser drawers and the bathroom and the bathroom drawers. No wallet. I checked the kitchen and the kitchen drawers and the living room table and Judah’s table and under things. No wallet.
By then I was sweating. I logged on to the Internet, looked up the number to Ritual and called them to ask if anyone had found a wallet. Meanwhile, I was running the contents of the wallet through my head. When I was on hold while they checked the lost and found, I quickly logged on to our bank accounts and credit card account and checked the balances. So far, so good. The coffee house didn’t have it. I started over. Bathroom, bedroom, hallway, living room, kitchen. When I got the the far end of the buffet, on the other side of the microwave where all the art supplies are conveniently stashed, I remembered I had art class Tuesday night. I took my wallet to art class. I checked the bag I took, and LO AND BEHOLD, there it was, praise Jesus.
So I took my wallet, and my bag, and the stroller, and the girl, and we walked back to the grocery store, got back in line, bought our groceries (and I even remembered to get quarters for laundry - those diapers ain’t gonna wash themselves, you know), and walked back home.
The good news? Judah didn’t complain about having to walk so much. The boy laid in his stroller and just looked at everything the whole time he wasn’t sleeping. My checkout girl was really nice and quick and friendly. They let me have a whole roll of quarters. My wallet wasn’t stolen, or lost, and our bank accounts hadn’t been emptied by identity thieves who were ruining my credit history.
The bad news? After having spent all that time chasing wallets and groceries, I only got one photo session in of the boy’s eighth week. That’s why they all kind of look alike. I was hoping to get a photo of his amazing head-holding ability, especially when he’s on his tummy cause, come on, he looks like a baby seal when he does that and it’s pretty cute, but every time I tried, he just laid there and cried - screamed, really - and I couldn’t sit there and take pictures of him doing that. I took pity on him instead.
I also discovered this past week that he does the exact same eyebrow thing that his daddy does, and that his sister does. He gave me this look a few days ago, and it was such an uncanny resemblance to them, I started freaking out and yelling at Joshua to come look. That, of course, startled him and he stopped the eyebrow thing and started crying. Natch. I can’t wait until I can get a photo of that.
These two are cheats. I took them this morning. He is eight weeks old and one day here.
Happy:
Sad:
Thanks, You-know-who-you-are.
Ahhhh….
The San Francisco Chronicle recently did a feature on sex trafficking, following the story of a woman named You Mi through her life as a forced-sex worker.
You can find the entire package right here, including You Mi’s three-part story, podcast interviews, photo slide shows, an audio slide show, an article about the dark(er) side of the sex trade in San Francisco, and information about how the series was reported. You can also read the article on the mayor’s plan to curb the illicit sex trade here.
If you live in San Francisco, you can help by getting involved with The SAGE Project - Standing Against Global Exploitation. SAGE hopes to help bring an end to the global problem of women and children being sexually exploited.
Don’t live in San Francisco?
Try these other resources regarding human trafficking and enslavement:
US Government Human Trafficking page
The Truth Isn’t Sexy
Protest 4
Chaste
Human Trafficking
Break the Traffic
National Christian Alliance on Prostitution
Anti-Slavery
Coalition Against Trafficking in Women”
Trafficking in Persons
Free The Slaves
Polaris Project
You can also help by supporting women and children in their efforts to escape the cycles of poverty and enslavement by going here and buying from these organizations:
Freeset Bags
Kids With Cameras
That should get you started. If you know of any other resources, please let me know.
This is almost as good as yesterday’s YouTube post. Almost.
Okay, it’s just as good. In a completely different category of good.
You can read the article here.
As many of you know, Judah got a camera from her baby brother when he made his extra-utero entrance into the world. She has her own flickr page, too, where we’re posting all her photos. She recently learned how to hit the play button and scroll through all her images. We’ve been subjected to a constant play-by-play of each photo, that goes something like this:
“that’s i take a picture of angel. that’s i take a picture of people. that’s i take a picture of daddy. that’s i take a picture of kiwwyian. that’s i take a picture of dan. that’s i take a picture of shoes. that’s i take a picture of that…”
The newest lesson is the art of the self-portrait. And what better way to illustrate, than with a self-portrait. This is me taking a picture of Judah and myself taking a picture of Judah and myself.
Oh. My. God. That’s the best thing I’ve seen all week.
I recently joined JPGmag and submitted a photo for each of the three themes of their upcoming issue. Please go vote for my images. If you like them. I hope you like them.
You can vote for Big.
You can vote for Self-Portraiture.
You can vote for Hometown.
You can also join, upload photos, and submit for future issues. I know a few of you who need to go there right now and join. You know who you are.