Uncommon Misconception

Name That Bidness!

I've decided to go ahead and develop a Web site and some business materials for my photography work.  But here's the thing: I need a name.  Or at least, I might need a name.  Here are my two options, as I see them:

1. Brand my photography under my name, just as I have my writing work.
2. Come up with an actual name for my company, something catchy that hasn't already been done.

The big "pro" associated with option 1 is that I won't have to think up something new.  Plus, I can play my writing and photography services off one another.

The big "pro" associated with option 2 is that I've always liked the idea of having an actual named company (okay, DBA).  But therein lies the biggest "con", too.  My brain seems to have shorted out on this one.  Every idea I come up with has already been done a dozen times over.

I would like something that incorporates the idea of capturing real life - everyday moments as well as the momentous occasions.  I like the concept of biographer (something I've always used to describe my writing work) and documentarian.   Or something off the wall that has only a passing association with photography (you can slap the word "photography" on the end to get that point across).  See?!  None of this is making any sense, is it?

Here's my point: if you can think of a good name for a photography company, would you let me know?  And could you run a quick google search first to make sure it's not a 100% repeat of twelve other companies?

Bonus prize to anyone who comes up with the winner and happens to live within driving distance: free photos session!  Otherwise, all I have to offer is my undying adoration.

Everything Old is New

I suppose your thirty-first birthday is as good a time as any to feel that you've truly come into your own.  Considering where my family stands, financially, at this given moment, that may seem like a strange statement.  But yesterday was indeed my thirty-first birthday, and I can truly say that I have never felt more contentment.

Do I have the material trappings that I always dreamed of?  No.  And I will actually be (temporarily) losing a great deal of those that I do.  And yet, nearly every night as I drop off into exhausted sleep, I find myself smiling in the dark of my great good fortune.

I am surrounded by people who love and support me.  My husband looks past my occasional bitchiness and tells me every few months that he knows I'm going to write a best-seller one day.  My oldest daughter thinks I hung the moon and then wrote the story that goes along with it.  My youngest visibly shakes with glee when I enter the room.  My mom cries over the photos I take because she finds them so moving.  My dad... well, my dad has learned to give me compliments out loud instead of only in his head, and I cannot say how much that means.

My best friend tells me almost every time we talk how much I mean to her and how we share a sisterhood that biology never granted us.  Our other close friends share their lives and those of their children in such an open and familial way that we never feel alone.

I have an amazing career that is actually paying more than I every really believed it would - at a time when my family needs it most.  And I seem to be stumbling head-long into another career that could keep me fulfilled beyond my highest hopes.

I have a community of "virtual" friends who are sometimes more real than anyone else; who share with me their hopes and sorrows, their knowledge and experience, their crude jokes and personal grooming habits.

Above all, I spend my waking and sleeping hours being thankful - being genuinely, bone-deep grateful for all that I have.  Even when I'm bitching. Even when I'm annoyed.  Even when I'm falling over in my tracks with fatigue.

So at the conclusion of the first three decades of my life, I can feel a new sensation looming.  The sense that I may finally "get it", for once.  But I'm sure, not for all.

Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Of Course They Did

I was up this morning at 6:00 a.m. to get to the hospital in time for my friend's c-section.  Just as they were about to put her on the gurney, Emily called.  She was having contractions and about to head to the hospital.

Several hours, one c-section, dozens of prayer-inducing fetal heart decelerations, and super-rapid vaginal delivery later, we have two BABY GIRLS!!  Everyone is healthy, gorgeous, and amazing.

And I'm so tired I can hardly see straight.

More later, but this for now:

Charlotte

Georgia

And My Cat Attempted to Garrotte Herself

I'm half-way into a week that has thus far lived up to it's promise of being hectic beyond all reason.  Adventures of note include photographic the first of three deliveries this week!  Kristin was had scheduled an induction for her second baby after passing her due date, but changed her mind after her eldest - a two-year-old - was flown by emergency helicopter to the local children's hospital for a severe allergic reaction just 36 hours before the induction.  Alas, her daughter had different ideas and decided to be born yesterday anyway.

Kristin was beautiful and she made giving birth look like a day at the spa.  It was really almost ridiculous.  Good think I like her so much and am so content with my own life.  Otherwise there would have been a fair deal of jealousy. 

And the photographs are wonderful.  I am so. so. pleased.  I've only worked on a few, and if your close enough to me to be marked as a "family or friend" on flickr, you can see them.  Otherwise, I'll need to wait until I have Kristin's permission to share them.  I have to admit I was quite proud of myself.  There were approximately five different types of lighting in the room and I was able to adjust quickly enough to get all fo the important shots.  Over 300 of them, actually.  Obviously, I'll pare that down.  Some.

When I returned home from the hospital, I was dispatched by my husband to take pictures of a client' house.  While there, I snapped a few of his supremely delightful red-headed infant.  Then I came home to feed the kids, bathe the kids, put the kids down, and finish off more of Todd's work-related projects.

Then today I headed out to the cabin and met the charity who hauled off all our two decades worth of possessions.   It could have been a bit traumatic, but I had Caroline with me and was too sweaty and hot to dwell on it much.  I also spend a good deal of the day checking in with Emily to make sure she wasn't going to go into labor and screw up my cabin projects.  Wasn't she so nice to oblige?!

On the way back from the cabin I noticed that Caroline - who has been only happy lately, instead of obnoxiously exuberant - was pulling at her ears and fussing.  Fussing.  Which she just doesn't do.  I took her to the doctors office on the way into town, et voila, the ear infection is back.  She continued to perform like a circus monkey, though, looking so exceedingly cute and executing her new-found wave with such contagious smileyness that the doctor ran to get her camera to take a few pictures.

Now I'm setting into pound out some of my real work, which is due tomorrow.  I will be out of the house first thing in the morning to go photograph the next baby's birth.  This one will be an early c-section, so my goal is to capture as many of the baby's little post-birth moments as I can, since moms don't get to see those. 

After that, it's more work and more waiting for Emily's kid to make up his or her mind about when to be born.  This one is going to be stubborn, I can tell.

Oh yeah!  My cat!  I nearly forgot.  Monday night, in the cold stupor of deep sleep, I noticed my cat crawling all over me and making weird hairball noises.  Since she doesn't get hairballs and the noises didn't stop, I tried to get up and turn the light on.  By the time I did, she'd already ran out of the room.  I didn't feel like pursuing, and was glad to see that if something was going to be ejected from her throat, it would at least be on the tile instead of my carpet.

Ten minutes later, she was back.  And this time she dripped something on my face.  I turned the light on and discovered the culprit.  Apparently, while bathing herself at 3:00 am, she began licking her chest and managed to get her lower jaw trapped in her collar.  She was a drooly freaked-out mess.  I unstuck her jaw and calmed her down and spent the next hour of what should have been precious sleep pondering how bad it would be to go down that way, drooling and harking into oblivion. 

Wish me luck for enduring the rest of the week.  My life may be crazy right now, but it's mine, and I love it.

Internal Dialogue

I'm always shocked to find how long it's been since my last post when things get hectic around Casa Uncommon.  Why?  Well, primarily because I still take time to read most of your blogs, ponder them, and even construct thoughtful responses... in my head.

What?!  You can see those?  Well that's too bad because they're really quite good.  As are the well-planned and researched posts I write [in my head] about various relevant topics like my thoughts on our current health care system woes, my endless waffling over whether or not to "go public" with my name and location some day, how Caroline learned to wave at Red Lobster two nights ago and reduced my entire family into a hand-wagging gaggle of idiots.  Idiots with giant hearts pooled in puddles on the floor.

If you could only read my thoughts, you'd be bowled over by my endless compassion and wit.  You'd think, "Wow.  That lady is deep."  And I am.  At least I am with some fair dose of REM sleep.  I think.  Though, to be fair, it's been three and a half years since that's happened.

So, consider this post a little window into my brain: if you think I read your latest blog entry or comment and it inspired a sweet thought, interesting argument, or "Amen, sista!"  It did.  I promise.  And I wrote it as perfectly as you imagined.

As the onslaught of life isn't likely to let up here anytime soon (all good things, people - including THREE paying photo gigs this week!  First one here.), keep intuiting my thoughts.  One day, I hope to commit them to paper [screen] again.

Headway

Sorry for the prolonged absence.  My parents are in town and on top of our usual work/family balancing act, we're making as many repairs to the cabin as we can while they're around to help.  So far, it's going well.  As I write this, they're out there waiting to meet a charity that will pick up all the furniture and household items that have gathered over the past three decades. 

So far, we've:

• cleaned out the kitchen cabinets (I shouldn't say "we".  Mom did this solo.)
• blazed a new "drive way" thanks to Dad and his chain saw
• packed up all the old household stuff and sorted into "keep - send back to Grandpa", "donate", and "toss"
• stood around and pondered new furniture configurations
• bought the items necessary to repair the washing machine and the exhaust fan in the girl's bathroom (the old one apparently made quite the cozy abode for a squirrel at some point)
• kept two small children from going crazy from boredom while we accomplished the above

I thought I'd share pictures with you so you can see what we're up to.  First up: "Before: Cabin as Vacation House"

Living

Kitchen

Dining

Soon-to-Be Master

Soon-to-Be Office

Girls' Room

Next up: "Cabin as Empty-But-Promising New Abode"

Review: That Baby DVD and CD

That Baby DVD (or, as my daughter calls it, "The movie with the girl with hair like me") is the product of several Portland musician/parents' obvious frustration with the kidlet music scene.  And who can blame them.  Watching baby- or child-appropriate programming is a bit like being trapped in an elevator filled to the brim with bad Muzak.  Only worse.  Because there are usually unintelligible, aesthetically-disturbing visual images to go with the "musical" sounds that seem to have been produced by no known or recognizable instrument. 

Sure, the baby loves the visual delights of the Baby-Whatchamacalit series, but let's face it, unless you've smoked enough of the good stuff to rival your last college three-day concert extravaganza in the mud, the noise coming from the living room TV set is more likely to send you into a postal rage than to entertain you.

Enter: That Baby DVD.  The DVD features acoustical covers of well-know and generally beloved musicians.  The song selection is great and the lyrics are sung in voices that children can understand - which makes sing-alongs much easier.  I'll admit, though, that I wasn't 100% cognizant of some of the lyrics from favorite songs until now.  Or perhaps I'd just never paid that much attention.  (Like the slightly-though-unintentionally misogynistic lyrics to "When We Grow Up" - "Maybe you'll be a lady and I'll be an engineer" says the little boy. ) Still, I'll take good music and musicians over most all of the crap on radio stations or in the more common children's compilations any day.  (Holy crap!  How old do you have to be to utter a sentence like that last one?)

I'll also warn that many of the songs get stuck in your head.  But that's not a bad thing.  Which would you prefer, "The Wheels on the Bus" or "Happiness Runs"?  Me, too.  And apparently, it is not possible for me to sing the phrase "Pony Boy" repetitively without turning it into "Poiny Boy".  Believe me, I tried.

Now, onto the visuals.  I think they are head-and-shoulders above the competition.  There are still a few slight-psychedelic ones, but apparently, kids dig 'em.  And I suppose this is just as much for them as it is the grown-ups.  Wait, what?  It's more about them.  Oh.  Okay.

In that case, I'll tell you that Hannah chose to watch That Baby DVD over Cinderella (Hey, don't blame me. It seems that Disney princesses now comes encoded in girl DNA.  All that crap made it into my house against my better efforts.).  She really likes the images of the children and the fact that they're actively dancing and playing musical instruments helps a lot.  Singing is one of her favorite activities right now, and we were both relieved to have new additions to our increasingly tired repertoire. 

So: Great product.  Parents dig it, and so do kids.  I wouldn't say it's perfect, but really, I'm not sure anything that has to juggle the two audiences (grown-ups and non-grown-ups) will ever make both truly peachy pleased.  That Baby DVD certainly comes much closer that others I've seen.

The nice folks at MotherTalk passed along this information if you're thinking of buying:

    Enter the coupon code "MotherTalk" when purchasing and save 20% on your entire order!
From now until May 18th, all orders using the coupon code "MotherTalk" will be entered in a drawing to win a new iPod nano.

_______________________________

Which brings me to another question: I have about four PayPal gift certificates just waiting for charity.  Any suggestions?  I will likely donate them to little Emily, but I'd like to know if there's another cause I should be considering.

 

Am Moron. Need Help.

I have some household items - crystal, discontinued dishes, etc. - that I wanted to sell on eBay.  No problem.  I'm an educated, relatively-computer-literate woman.  I have pictures, pricing info.  All set!

But apparently, I am not worthy.  I tried to post one item and was so confused by the different options that I flat gave up.

Is anyone out there e-Bay-savvy and willing to either a) walk me through it step-by-step, or b) do it for me - all for the sheer satisfaction of knowing you've helped me out?  Because clearly, I'm out of my depth.

Not a Single Thing to Complain About

With all this talk of moving and critters and money woes, it would be easy to think that I've lost perspective and have lost sight of what is truly important; devolving into a full-on never-been-through-crisis whiny blogger.

But I want to assure you that I have not.  Last month, Shelba organized a photography workshop for a number of fellow photo-geeks.  When she called to say she needed kids for a photo shoot, I excitedly gathered my kids (blessedly, with my mom's help - she was in town) and headed off to a local historical park.  Hannah was her usual reserved self around these strangers, but many of them used her contrary shy nature to their advantage (my favorite was the woman who dared her, "Don't you smile at me!"  BRILLIANT!).  Yesterday, the CD Shelba compiled of the pictures of my girls arrived.  And they were so beautiful, it quite literally took my breath away.

There is nothing in the world so important as this.  Nothing.  And nothing can be wrong in my world so long as I have my husband and my girls by my side.  Nothing.

You must go see the rest.  And as soon as I can (when Shelba returns from her fun-filled vacation) I'll give credit where it's due to each photographer.

Let's Make a Deal!

I've recently listed about 2/3 of our furniture on Craig's List, as well as a ton of housewares that are really just taking up space in my pantry.  I suddenly feel very game-show-like, crafting enticing descriptions of ceramic nesting bowls and coffee tables, counter-offering, and reminding people that, "We also have a full living room set for sale... as well as some lovely kitchen canisters!"

So far, we've sold our guest room furniture (including mattress, box spring, bedding and a lamp).  But we still have two living rooms, one formal dining, and aforementioned housewares to go. 

Then there's the Goodwill closet cleanout action.  I'm hauling stuff off by the trash bag full.  So far, there are three trash bags of clothes, and three of shoes.  I know there's more to come.  I'm trying to be realistic (as opposed to wishful) about what I should keep in the closet.  Things that I haven't worn since my college internship - out.  Things I shouldn't wear now that I've hit thirty (read: mini skirts) - out.  High-waisted "mom" pants bought in a fit of desperation in the postpartum months after Hannah - out.

All of this thrifty-ness has left me with the weird sensation of seeing my belongings with dollar signs floating above them.  I hope that passes quickly.  In a few days, we have someone going out to the cabin to investigate the former "critter infestation" issues in the dropped ceiling.  Should be fun!

Anyone got ideas about how to move my Craig's List items back up the page?  I'm sure there's some science to it, but I'm a newbie.