Manufactured Landscapes

As a part of my photography class last week we previewed scenes from the film Manufactured Landscapes which documents the work of photographer Edward Burtynsky. To quickly summarize, Burtynsky's images of human driven impact on the land via processes like mining, chemical waste spills, landfills and recycling yards are both beautiful and tragic. The film goes on to illustrate the heavy cost that China's environment and its people are paying for the countries rapid expansion. The most impactful part of the film in my opinion is that it forces you to consider a products entire life cycle from the materials it was sourced from, to the worker in China that assembled it, to the shipping yard and the oil needed to transport it to the consumer, and finally it's place in a landfill or worse. Along those lines our assignment for the week was to capture images locally that demonstrate man's impact on the landscape. Unfortunately I didn't need drive deep into desert to complete the assignment.

 

There were dozens of tires thrown by the side of the road. Rather than pay a few dollars to have the things disposed of, apparently it's far more convenient to make it someone's else problem.

  

 In this bush there was an old filing cabinet, bottles of beer and soft drinks, parts from a microwave and other items that had been broken apart to a point where it was hard to identify.

  

  

Yes, there was even a couch.

  

Glass, glass everywhere

And the rest... well. All I can think is that cats do a far better job of burying their waste.

  

  

  

  

  

  

 

A finally there was this odd source of water in the middle of nowhere.

And in between all the eye spasms are moments like this

Olympic Basket Sliding

Does this event need further description?

Art Class

In case you're wondering the teacher in all the pictures is Heather, the boys Speech Language Pathologist. The kids adore her and thanks to her we were able to rule out hearing loss and move the boys along in their language development. 

Dance Class

We enrolled Sophia in a Creative Movement Dance Class, which is really not dance per se but a fun way to introduce her to the basics. She LOVES it plus it's been great observing how well she does in a classroom setting. Although she still relishes being the leader, she is also able to contain her emotions when doing things that have been difficult for her in the past like waiting in line and taking turns. I have hope that preschool might not be as bad as we're both dreading it will be. 

The image quality is poor because parents' aren't "supposed" to linger in the room taking pictures during class. HA! says the mother with a new camera and a profound need to document each and every first. 

And Lastly A Late Submission: Valentine's Morning in Pajamas

Thanks for all the goodies Mom! The candy was gone by that same evening. You're shocked I know. 

Re:my nervous twitch

On an intellectual level I would tell you that while yes, life with three small children can be stressful at times, overall I feel in control, confident and happy. That is would have told you, if you cared to ask, and that is what I whole-hardly believed.

Until I developed an eye spasm.

And according to my right eyelid I'm just one crayon mark on the wall away from coming completely unhinged.

It started a couple of months ago around the holidays and at first I attributed it to sleeping with my contacts on for a couple of nights here and there. The tick lasted until about the time Patrick went back to work (hmmm, interesting point of note) and then gradually tapered off. I avoided sleeping with my contacts and thought that I had correctly pinpointed the source of the spasms.

Until last weekend.. A weekend filled with unexpected yard projects, an overwhelming desire to spring clean and purge everything unnecessary from every room, closet and crevice, two infuriatingly whiny baby boys and an adorable little girl with the temper of a snake and the sunny disposition of a mule.
By late Saturday night my right eyelid was ticking to the rhythm of strobe light . The more my children talked, yelled, whined, cried, begged,screamed, argued,bargained, nagged,questioned, and badgered the more intense the ticking got.

On Sunday afternoon I was given a reprieve and drove as far and as fast as I could and within minutes the twitching stopped. I spent two deliriously wonderful hours at Target  before heading home and not once did my eyelid move (besides to blink in a normal fashion). I even forgot about it until I arrived home and the mere sound of them screaming, mama, mama, mama! as I walked into the door sent me twitchin' again.

And so it went for the rest of the night. Nice, hot shower... no ticks.  Sophia asking me for yet another refill of her sippy cup....twitching! Nice conversation with hubby over dinner...no tweeking.  Little boys and their bony knees and elbows jumping all over me.. spasms!

The near perfect Pavlov effect is eerie. As I sit writing this my eyes are fine and the minute Sophia walks in to complain that her brothers are not sleeping and can I please go in and quiet them down sets my twitching off again. I feel like a caricature of stay at home mother on the brink. Just give me an empty stare, a marlboro light, blue fuzzy slippers, a worn bathrobe and top it all off with some pink hair rollers and the nervous tick would be right at home.

(Oh and on the off chance one of my kids cares enough to read this when they're the adults and I'm the batty old woman they're planning to drop off at the home for The Aged and Decrepit ....................
FOR HEAVEN'S SAKES YOU GAVE ME A &%*# NERVOUS TWITCH!!! THAT'S GOTTA BE WORTH THE UPGRADE TO AN ASSISTED LIVING FACILITY. NOT TO MENTION THE UNTOLD HORRORS YOU WREAKED UPON MY ONCE LOVELY BODY(BOYS!) I'M NOT SAYING YOU OWE ME BUT WELL, YOU DO.

LOVE MOM.

This Child

Ah, Just look at how sweet and lovely she is.

What an angel.

What an absolute doll.

Sure.  Right.

People, 

what you are looking at is without a doubt THE MOST STRONG WILLED PERSON 

in human existence.

Forget Catherine the Great or Hatchepsut. 

I'm sure the grief their mother's suffered at the hands of stubborn, obstinate daughters is still less than the battle I encounter on a daily basis.

At those moments, the neverending moments, that she is screaming at the top of her lungs and ramming her 31 lb body into the door letting me know that she DOESN'T WANT TO NAP, TAKE A QUIET TIME, READ, DRAW, OR PLAY AND ONLY WANTS TO WATCH TOM AND FREAKIN' JERRY NOW. NOW. NOW, NOW, NOW!!!!!!!! 

I wonder to myself what I hell I ever did to deserve this?

Did I indulge her too much as a toddler? Praise too often, give in too quickly?

Did my helicopter parenting style create a self indulged, spoiled little tyrant?

Did I not spend enough alone time with her after the boys were born thus creating an ultra needy, exceedingly sensitive child?

Is her overly processed diet of mac n cheese and cereal causing her behavior?

Did watching Dora and Curious George as a toddler create undue stimulation?

Is it the spankings?

Is it the time outs?

Is it all the stupid "10 Days to a Happier Child" books written by childless experts?

Is it the failed attempts to talk reasonably with a unreasonable four year old?

Should I have taken her more seriously the time she whispered under her breath "They better do what I say or someone's gonna pay"?

Did the sip of champagne I drank at a friend's wedding while pregnant cause brain damage?

Did I do wrong by someone prior to having kids (my own parents perhaps) and now God/The Universe/Charma is stepping in to pay me my dues?

Did I need my own character and strength tested at the hands of an unyielding opponent?

Is there something medically wrong with her?

Is there something medically wrong with me?

Will she outgrow it or just grow bigger, louder and more intolerable?

Will she take that spine of steel and mouth of flames all the way to The Supreme Court?

Will she be there as the next Sonia Sotomayor or as the defendant, The United States Supreme Court vs. Sophia N.?

Will I survive the next year, five years or the dreaded teenage years?

Will she?

Oh my. Oh my. Oh my.

Lord help us all.

My boys are the middle child

Some time ago, 11 days to be exact, I started a "Happy 2nd Birthday" to Alex and Max post. I got as far as Alex, and although it was really quite touching and full of all the usual syrupy adoration I feel compelled to bestow on my children on their birthdays, I hit the proverbial writer's road block and never finished my "letter".

So you tell me, which is worse?

Not delivering a full on sloppy Mama kiss with the usual gushing of affection to each boy or hitting a "block" when writing said love infused proclamation. Does this mean my boys will grow up and think I only loved Sophia enough to write a letter on each of her birthdays? Does this mean that although we don't technically have a "baby" they will both grow up with "middle child" complex? Does this mean that I am getting lazy and a picture of their party with the boilerplate "I love you!" caption inserted under each picture will suffice? For shame!!!

Alright enough mama melodrama for one day. I'm starting over and getting it right this time.

Alex..  Even at the oh so very young age of two, your tenderness, warmth, caring and love for others shines through so brightly. You are a wonderful little person and I have no doubt that with your charm, outgoing nature and sharp wit, you will grow up to be nothing short of amazing. You remind me so much of your Daddy which despite his goofy sense of humor is a great thing.  Having you in our lives has been a blessing and we can't imagine a day without seeing your sweet smile and soft brown eyes. We love you Alexander. From age two until forever.

Max. Max. Max. You are a wildman my son. Just pure choo choo-lovin', dinosaur roarin' goodness bottled into one loud, crazy little boy. You are forever making us laugh and we have no doubt that you will one day be the class clown and later the consummate frat boy.  In fact one of the nicknames we've given you,  based on the way you down your bottles is The Chugerator, which will undoubtedly follow you into the future. Despite all your monster trucks and caveman grunts you still are a love and getting a quiet moment to just rock and sing to you is among the things I love most.  You are a blessing and a gift. We love you Max. From age two until forever.


Short. Sweet. Sappy. Just like a birthday love letter from Mama should be.

Oh and I almost forgot!! The requisite birthday photos!

Patched up one leaky hole but as luck would have it...

So I spent last night erasing, blocking, deleting, editing and damn near bleaching out every reference to our last name in the digital landscape and happily it seems I may have found a way to keep our information semi private with little to no searchability via google (I know searchability is not a word but spell check wanted me to insert a hyphen and I disagree!)  I was feeling a bit better about our privacy but then this morning my happy little bubble of security (or at least the illusion of it) was shot right out of the sky.

Our neighborhood association sent out emails last night informing residents about a series of attempted break ins on our very street. The "good" news is that apparently the would be criminals were not successful in their attempts (leading me to believe that they were just dumb teenagers), but the bad news is that the police suspect he/they were likely after the teenage girls, who along with their parents, were asleep at the time of the attempted break ins.  OH MY WORD. 

Isn't there any place that a Momma can take her babies to and feel safe anymore? 

Should we get a motion sensitive alarm system installed?

Should we get a loud, mean dog?

Should we plant razor sharp cacti around all the bedroom windows?

Should I carry pepper spray? Sleep with a knife under the pillow?

Should we move to a little happy farm in Sweden? Or Canada? They have low crime rates in Canada right?

While we don't live in a gated and guarded community, our neighborhood is still in a newer, middle class, family friendly part of town. I slept all summer with the windows open and on the few occasions where we mistakenly left our garage door open overnight nothing was disturbed or missing. Retirees walk the sidewalks all hours of the day and kids ride bikes outside throughout the summer. We felt comfortable buying in the area because of the number of swing sets, bike trailers, cozy coupes and mini vans we saw while driving around. (Doesn't it just make you feel better knowing there are lots of happy, little kids around? Kinda like if there's a baby on a plane you assume "Okay we're good. Ain't no way this plane's going down. Not with a baby on board!")  On the outside everything is pretty much still the same but for me just knowing that homes in this area have been repeatedly targeted makes me wish we were still renting and had the flexibility to move far, far away. 

I know I have a tendency (okay frequency) to overreact but in addition to cyber security issues and nearby home invasions we also had our credit card information stolen from a local restaurants databank last week and used to makes purchases in Mozambique. Luckily the credit card company removed the charges but it still made me feel uneasy about how little it takes to steal sensitive information. If it had been our checking account, rather than our credit card, they could have cleared out our checking account on before moving on to our savings and then our credit card, all of which are set up as overdraft fallbacks to our main account. My oh my.

Alright enough already. I'm off to run. And then maybe a margarita (Yes, on Monday!) It's been that kind of week. 

Oh and by the way the kids are good. The boys are just days away from turning two.  Sophia is clinging to her terrible two mentality and Patrick is recovering from a painful muscle injury which did not preclude him from swinging me around the dance floor on Saturday night. Did I mention we went dancing? Well we did and it was just fabulous! We're even plotting another escape while my parents are here over the weekend.

(Oh really? thinks my Mom as she reads about our plan. Do I know you or what!)