Archive of ‘wordful wednesday’ category

Mostly Wordless Wednesday: The Speed Racer Unleashed.

My family has a thing for speed. From my fighter pilot-flying grandfather and rally car-racing uncle to my pedal-to-the-metal dad and speed walking mom, we all move just as fast as we can, almost all the time.

So it’s no surprise that Tori likes to go fast, too.

She started running about two days after she started walking…and never looked back.

But let’s face it. Her little legs can only go so fast. To get a taste of real speed, she needed wheels. Or, you know, a Big Wheel.

My husband fished a perfectly good, practically unused Big Wheel out of the garbage a few weeks ago (apparently, it’s former owners had never heard of a little thing called a Garage Sale) and after a bit of cleaning and tuning, presented it to her.

At first, she was more than a little unsure. It wasn’t pink, sparkly, or like anything she had seen before.

But when she took her seat and started pedaling, a light bulb went off. And then? Then she took off.

Now walks have become Big Wheel rides for her…and huffle puffing jogs for me.

Before we start, we always go over the rules.

“Now, Tori. What do we do when riding a big wheel?”

“Stop at every corner.”


“Turn around every once in a while to make sure I can still see you.”


“Don’t go too fast.”

“Right. Now let’s go.”

And off she rides.

At first she sticks close.

Tori starts off on a Big Wheel ride

But before long, speed calls.

SHe gets her speed under her.

And not long after that, she forgets she even has a mom.

And she's off.

If it wasn’t for the flowers that line our path, errr, sidewalk, we might never see her again!

Tori picks pretty blooms along the way.

But she always stops to smell the flowers. And at corners. And at particularly loud yells from a gasping me.

And when she’s raced across the last straightaway and stopped in our driveway? Her smile could power the entire town of Bloomington.

“I beat you again, Mommy! I’m fast!”

“You sure are, baby.”

“Next time I’m going to go even faster!”

I have no doubt that she will.

Mostly Wordless Wednesday: The Three Year Photo Shoot.

Every year on my daughter’s birthday (at least for the three she’s had so far), I make a point of dressing her up in cute clothes, plunking her somewhere somewhat photogenic and doing my best to get some good pictures of her.

On her first birthday, that was a pretty easy task. After all, she couldn’t walk yet.

Last year, it was somewhat more challenging, but I got a few nice candids.

And this year? Well, this year it was almost impossible, but I was determined.

This one has the potential to be nice, if only I can figure out how to clone away the bag, bubbles and plastic chairs from the background.

Tori kneels with tulips.

Look – it's her teenager smile, a few years early.

Then we got into the goofy face phase.

Tori hams it up

Tori hams it up

But at long last, we got to a good one – or at least, one I think is good. It’s not perfect, but it is totally her.

A real smile

Tori at three. Cute, smiley, and completely unable to sit still.

Here’s to another crazy year in my career as a mom.


The Quest For the Perfect Family Photo.

I have an almost pathological need to take pictures. This is expected, of course. As a blogger, I’m supposed to document everything. But my compulsion goes deeper than that.

There are no pictures of me until about age, I don’t know, five? And I do mean none. I could very well be adopted (as my cousins always tried to convince me I was). Except, of course, for the fact that the family resemblance is so strong. There’s no denying that I’m a Foulkrod through and through.

That lack of photographic evidence of my babyhood may have bothered my mom a bit. Especially since I have never been shy about rubbing it in. But she took it all in stride.

I, however, am not so good at dealing with guilt. So now that I am a mom with a family of my own? I have the aforementioned pathological need to take pictures.

Unfortunately, that means there are very few pictures of me. I am, after all, the one who’s usually behind the camera, demanding everyone smile and look like they’re having a good time.

To get the shining family portraits I dream of, professional assistance is necessary.

That’s why, on a surprisingly balmy day in early November, we gamboled about Oliver Winery, posing and otherwise hamming it up for our lovely photographer, Lisa Gupton.

We got lots and lots of fabulous shots. Photos in which we’re all smiling, with hair neatly brushed and clothes tidy and straight. But those aren’t my favorites.

Nope, the ones I love capture us as we really are – when we’re not trying to look shiny and perfect for the camera.

Hurray for Lisa Gupton

We have more photogenic shots of her. But none where her smile is this real.


Tori not pooping.

Brian thinks she looks like she's pooping. I think she's adorable.


Walking through an autumn wonderland

What can I say? I just love this one.

And this is my hand’s down favorite:

Picture perfect? No. Perfect? Yes.

Picture perfect? No. Perfect? Yes.

Brian’s looking down, Tori’s leg is in the air, but the joy? Is genuine. And that’s what makes a perfect photo, in my book.

What’s your idea of the perfect picture?

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