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Photo challenge 7 was “fruit.”

So.  Here’s some fruit:

This was some of the fruit served at my sister’s wedding party.

I prefer Photo Challenge 9, which is “Someone you love.”

Need I say more?  A cool extra thing about this photo is the background.  See the photos on the fridge in the background?  One is of my niece and nephew and the other is of my kids – all of whom I love dearly!

Yes, I skipped Day 7. Sort of… I did take the picture, but it’s on my other camera and I can’t upload it at the moment (and couldn’t yesterday, either). I’ll post it when I can.

Today’s challenge? Easy – a bad habit.

Something from a low angle:

One of my sister’s wedding flowers.

Today’s photo challenge is: Something from a high angle.

Dan opening his birthday present.  A new Garmin watch!

Something green:

Luke’s first race bib, which hangs on his bedroom wall.  He was so proud (as were we)!

It’s kind of nice to be doing this challenge thingy, as I don’t have to come up with titles for my posts!  Then again, so far, the photos have been VERY uninteresting.

That’s about to change, I think, with this photo (the challenge is “clouds”):

Cool, isn’t it?  I totally lucked out getting this picture.  We were leaving the beach in Chicago (just in time!) and we were stopped at a red light.  I took it with my iPhone.

Day 2: What you wore today.

Ugh.

This is actually kind of cheating, as this is what I wore today AFTER I finally got a shower in at 4 p.m.  Think this is bad?  You should have seen me earlier, in my ball cap, sweat-stained Texas t-shirt and crappy old Target “active wear” capris.

I saw this on my friend’s blog and thought I’d try it.  I figure it’ll get me blogging more often, and taking pictures.

Here goes, with the first on the list -  Self Portrait:

Today was the annual “company picnic” at Dan’s place of work.  It’s not usually over-exciting, but the kids enjoy it and were looking forward to going.  Maria was a little bummed because she couldn’t attend this year, as she had a birthday party to go to.

We dropped Maria at her friend’s house and headed to the city.

What a gorgeous day!  Not a cloud in site.  Maybe 75 degrees.  As we headed toward the Chicago skyline, my boys and I decided it would be a beautiful day for the beach.  But, the picnic would be fun.

Not.

When we arrived, the food was not yet ready, so we headed off to check out some of the entertainment.  Trucks to climb in and through, a bouncy house and a reptile display.  Almost immediately, I started hearing about one particular 5-year-old’s desperate thirst.  And how the picnic was boring!  And how the people who organized the event did so only to be mean to the children, as everything was so dumb.

We did a few more things and heard some more complaining, so we headed off to the food line, thinking the complainer might be crabby due to hunger.  “Whyyyyy is there SUCH a long line all the time?!?” The Complainer asked.

As we waited, the wind picked up a bit and we warned the kids that they’d better hold tight to their plates.  I stuffed my pockets with knives and forks and napkins and helped the kids get food onto their plates.  The Complainer hated everything.  Didn’t want anything.  He got a hotdog and some grapes.  A bag of chips (is that the only kind?!?) and a juice box.  We squeezed into a spot at a table, just as the tornadic winds started blowing.  The C0mplainer managed to eat his grapes.  Then I opened his juice box and he squirted it all over himself.  While wiping himself off with a napkin the plate with his hotdog blew away.  The guy on the roof of the building 10 stories up could hear Sam howl.

Being sort of a special day and wanting to cheer him up, I walked Sam over to the ice cream stand.  He didn’t like anything.  So, I found a popsicle for Andrew and an ice cream bar for myself and we headed back to the table.  I held Andrew while he ate his bullet pop.  Big mistake.  Mother and child, we were both red, white and blue in a matter of seconds.  And sticky as hell.  Sam started in about something else, all the trash from our lunches ended up in Dan’s lap and we decided it was time to go.  Before heading out, I walked Luke over to get some ice cream to eat on the way out (he was the best of the bunch today!) and Dan took the baby and Sam to collect Jack from the gecko house.  We met up in the parking lot, everyone pretty much unhappy as hell.  Sam still hated everything.  Andrew was tired.  Jack didn’t get to “pet” the gecko.  And Dan was P.O.’d.

I gave Andrew a serious wipes-bath before putting him in the car and we headed home.  (I suggested to Dan that he stop off for a beer before meeting us back at home, but I don’t think he took that under any serious advisement.)  About halfway there, I turned around to look at Andrew.  Who was again completely (but happily) covered in red, white and blue popsicle juice.  What the $@#$%???  I looked at Luke (the sibling closest to him and the one who had entered the car with a popsicle.)  “Why did you give that to him?!?”  I demanded.  “He wanted it,” Luke said simply.

Oh.  Well then.

I’m thinking we may skip the picnic next year.  Or, maybe Dan can hire a different family to represent him.

Luke, my middle child, is very focused on his appearance.  It started about halfway through kindergarten, when he decided he wanted to be one of the “cool dudes” at school.  His favorite clothes?  A ripped up pair of jeans and his “Dude” shirt.  (Literally, it says “Dude” on the front.)  His backup?  A different pair of ripped pants and his “Legend in Training” shirt.

Even more than his clothes, though, Lukie is obsessed with his hair.  One of his buddies, Nick, has longish, wavy hair, and Luke wants long hair, too.  Traditionally, I’ve pretty much run a number 3 (or 4) clipper over my boys’ heads and called it good.  This, however, won’t work for Luke these days.

So, the last few times I’ve cut his hair, I’ve let the top go a little long.  Sides and back short, but the longer top gives him something to play with arrange in a masterfully “cool dude” way.

Having skipped the last haircut session, I told Luke today that it was time for a cut.  It was too shaggy above the ears and the back of the neck.  He insisted that I keep the top long, and I told him I would keep it long-er.  Which I did.  But NOT to his satisfaction.

When I was finished, he ran inside to check it out and promptly went into a rage.  It was TOO SHORT.

I left him on his own to cool off while I cleaned up, but when I went looking for him, he was still mad.  With a tear in his eye, he showed me this:

(It was cut from construction paper and it was supposed to be a heart shape, although I guess anger has a way of messing up your projects.)  On it, you can see he wrote “Lov”.

“You see this?!?” He asked me.  “Watch!”  And he promptly cut the paper into little pieces and threw them on the floor.

Even though the shape was wrong, and the paper was orange instead of pink, and he misspelled “love”, this was much like the numerous Valentines he made for me around Valentine’s Day.

Sad, isn’t it?  Especially considering his haircut is adorable very cool.

P.S.  The marks on his face are NOT from me, but from his little brother, who was wrestling with him just prior to me taking this picture.

P.P.S.  All is good at the time of this posting – he loves me again