Change of Plans...

So I just finished a phone conversation with my mother during which she said, "You know, you haven't posted to your blog since January."

And I sort of halfway listened (because I was busy doing something I'll tell you about in a minute) and then we started talking about the play she was in and the book she was reading and when I finally hung up and processed what we had talked about, I said, "Wait.  What?"

Toodling over to the computer, I realized that  she was right.  Huh.  How about that?

Here's the thing:  a couple of weeks ago, it occurred to me that River was going to be going to school next year (pause for all of my internet homies to wig out) and that it would probably behoove me at that time to get out of the house and start making some of that money, honey.

However,

1. I don't WANT to work outside the home.
2. Who would neglect the laundry if I worked outside the home?
3. I HATE working for other people.
4. Whine, complain, grouse, moaaaannnnn.

 I contemplated going back to school to do the librarian thing, because librarians rock and they get to inspire readers and whathaveyou and, helloooo, books.

I contemplated ramping up the freelance writing thing, except to be honest, I discovered that writing for other people is a huge drag and editing is pretty much like grading papers.  I'm not KNOCKING freelance writing and I know that for folks with English degrees, it's a viable option and some people do really, really well with it.  But writing on demand (unless it was for my Magic Writing Job, which was watching TV and complaining about all the gore on CSI:  The World and then writing a few questions about Cheetos) is just not for me.

I contemplated the fact that my resolutions were to do more writing and inch closer to being an author and that is all well and good, but oddly enough, they don't pay you to send out queries or the first three chapters of any novel.  Damn them. 

I contemplated starting up the farm o' my dreams, but that takes capital and a chunk of land and a husband who is all down with buying goats and stuff and Will is at some sort of professional crossroads and he really can't be down with buying goats, people. 

So there I was, scrubbing out the sink and contemplating and River ran across the room and did something completely precious and I ran for my camera and...huh.

Hang on a second, I said.

I have this camera, right?  And it is a good camera and if you press the buttons a certain way, you get good pictures.  And I could process photos for hours.  And I love kidlets, from the embryonic to the adolescent.  And...hmmm....

I stewed over this for a while and I bought a photography book and I checked out some sites and looked over my pictures and, kind of on a whim, I messaged a former student who had just had a baby and asked if I could do a practice shoot.  Just to learn.  Just to see if I could do it.

Y'all, I had a blast.  First of all, I just adore the mama.  She was one of my favorite students and although I hurt her terribly during her senior year when my inexperience with life caused me to be insensitive, she forgave me and reconnecting with her on FB made me so happy.  She's one of those kids who make you proud when you realize they're all growed up.  Snurf.  I love my little Ooty.

What?

Right, the photo shoot:  It was all laughing and talking about parenthood and marriage and packages (because little Mr. Man was not shy, my friends.)  I know it had so much to do with our history, but it was just so relaxed and even when I was "working," we were having a good time. 

And then, ohhhhh, the soft little shmoooshums with his peach fuzz and curly toes and perfect little pout.  I love me some babies, my friends, and getting my hands on this one was a treat.  Oof.  You forget how teetiny newborns are.  They are just so itsy and shnuggly and...okay, honestly, I just fall over at the cuteness of newborns, okay?  It's a curse.  And this one had me under his powers very quickly, I'm afraid. 

The actual shooting part of it was fun, but in a different way.  It was learning and directing and interacting and figuring out angles and focus, which was...I mean...it was interesting.  Does that sound dorky?  It does, doesn't it? 

Anyway, Ooty tired out and so did The Baby of Power and I headed back home where I was prevented from futzing with the photos until after the Super Bowl.  When I DID get to futzing, again, I had so much fun.
Honestly, I'm not sure editing photos should make a person so giddy.  I also put together a birth announcement for Ooty and her husband.  

Wanna see my favorites? 

Wait, let me tell you this first.  Ooty wanted to post some of the pics on FB, and I had a moral dilemma. Y'ALL, WHY IS "DILEMMA" SO HARD TO SPELL?  See, a few months ago, a few FB friends were poking fun of people who take snapshots and then paste watermarks all over them because, really, who wants to copy the picture of somebody's kid eating an ice cream cone in Disney World that's out of focus and random?  And they poked fun of people who thought they were photographers after only a short time.  And these guys are good photographers and I like them and value their opinion and the idea of watermarking my pictures and hanging the photography shingle after one "for real" session made me have my very own Laverne and Shirley moment, wherein I blush and want to bury my head in the couch cushions.

BUT.  Ooty pointed out that, hey, I was trying to get my name out there, so a watermark would be a good idea.  Also, as a writer, I know that protecting your work (and your client's privacy) is a big deal, so the watermark is a must. 

BUT.  It feels weird.  I have to admit that the idea of suddenly switching hats feels weird.  Not bad weird, just...weird.  The idea of supporting myself with something NOT writing related is foreign to me.  I've always connected to WORDS.

BUT.  Then I started thinking that, really, photography is about telling a story, too.  At least, good photography is.  And if you can plug into that story and share it...that's the Truth.  And who know?  Maybe I can somehow merge the two someday.

This doesn't mean I'm finished with the dream of being an author.  Or a farmer.  Or an astronaut.

Wait. 

Not the last one.

Astronauts have to do math.

Okay, NOW do you want to see my favorites?  Here they are: