Happy birthday Miss Faith!
Faith had been talking about her birthday since last summer. But when I asked her first thing this morning how old she was, her immediate response was two. I told her she was now three. She protested, as most two- to three-year-olds do, until she realized the day had finally come. She'd been waiting for months and it was finally her birthday. She wanted to put on a fancy dress and a birthday hat. The closest thing we had was the cone-shaped hat from her dress-up set that you see in the picture. But that was good enough for her. And we made her cupcakes this morning, in super-duper strawberry pink. Waiting until Daddy came home from work to eat them was agonizing for both her and Dorian. But they held out, and I'm sure the reward for their patience was sweet.
Poor Quinn felt a bit left out.
I'm not sure what we're going to do for his birthday. Dorian and Faith each smushed around a cupcake for their first birthdays, but Quinn will be the equivalent of 9 months old, which just doesn't seem old enough to me to be eating cake. I still have about 5 weeks to figure this out. But on the other hand, we only have 5 weeks until Quinn's first birthday. That also means we only have about 5 more weeks of winter. Hallelujah! We definitely need some fresh air.

Illness has struck our family. Everyone but me has had the same respiratory complaints for going on two weeks. Dorian got it first. He woke up hoarse and coughing and spent the day curled up on the couch with a fever. The next day he was better. Then two days later, Faith and Quinn were both feverish, followed by coughing. Kurt too is stuffy. I'm ready for health to be restored.

Quinn being sick of course has me worried, especially with a respiratory illness. Our doctor isn't too concerned. I talked to her, and she confirmed what I thought, that there wasn't much that could be done for him with a viral infection. We're just watching and waiting. And really, other than the periodic coughing, he hasn't slowed down at all. He's just as energetic and alert as ever. I took this picture of him earlier this week.
That little booklet was sitting on the edge of the table. He pulled it off and began to "read" it, turning pages and everything. He can be an intense kid. But he's also a happy and social one.
And life is good.

Where oh where did the Fackrells go?

The short answer is nowhere. I've just felt like since my life is on eternal round right now (is that blasphemous?) that I didn't have much to report on anymore.

Let's see, uh, there's this:

He's not crawling yet, but he's up on hands and knees and rocking. And then, look out world!

There's this:
Kurt had a birthday February 4. And yes, that's a carton of ice cream with candles stuck in it. Kurt isn't a big cake fan, and decided he'd rather have just ice cream this year. Made my job easy. Faith's birthday is next, in 2 weeks.

And just for fun, there's this:
Among the things we've done to keep busy is to celebrate the season. These are heart-shaped cinnamon rolls, made by rolling in both edges, instead of just one. My sister Brittany passed that along to me, as well as a recipe for red play dough. For the last two days, Dorian and Faith have commandeered the kitchen table for use with this play dough and cookie cutters.

My mom came to visit about two weeks ago. It was fun to have Grandma time, and to go out and about a bit. Dorian and Faith and I got to almost resume our old ways, going to the library and out to lunch. And Kurt and I got to go on several dates. Real dates! It was amazing! And old man winter brought us a snowday for the occasion. My mom enjoyed that, since it's a novelty to her. The kids were sad to see her go. We're looking forward to summer and time with all grandparents and cousins.

In other news, I got Dorian registered for kindergarten last week. I'm still ambivalent about this. Our district just decided to go to full-day kindergarten, and I'm apparently in the minority of parents who are not happy about this. But more than anything, the process of getting him registered has emphasized the fact that I'm a little bit cracked after this past year of my life. After being expected to basically hand over a child to medical authority (which we didn't entirely do, but anyway) I actually have quite a bit of separation anxiety from any of my kids. And here again, I'm sort of expected to just let Dorian go for most of the day. And yes, I know I can be involved, volunteer in the classroom, do PTA, etc. But let's face it. This is a major change, and I don't think I'm handling it well. I've been a bit vocal in my disappointment at the change to full-day, and all that has really done is make me known to the school board. We haven't even started school there, and they know me. Of course, I have considered homeschooling. And to some degree, we've done that already. Dorian can read a little and count, though he's less keen on writing. And Faith knows a lot too, since she refuses to be left behind in anything. But for multiple reasons, I'm not convinced continuing with it is the right thing to do. Oh, the decisions to be made, and made soon.

Nothing much new going on. But no news is good news. We've had a couple of snow days this week, one where school was canceled, and one where church was canceled. We were climbing the walls by Sunday night, none of us having gone anywhere for a couple of days. The school closing affects us by canceling speech therapy for Dorian and physical therapy for Quinn. We're looking forward to better weather.

It's hard to believe this is the same baby we brought home from the hospital 6 months ago. He's come so far. Now, most people who don't know his history wouldn't guess it. He's a happy kid who loves his siblings, even when they can be overwhelming, and it's obvious he's anxious to be able to keep up with them. He can push up half of his body at a time, and it's only a matter of time before he'll get the coordination down to start crawling. Now that he's officially 6 months, we'll be starting solids soon. As it is, he's been reaching for my dinner for some time now. I think he's ready, though we'll definitely keep up the nursing for a good long time.

We're doing our best to enjoy the cold weather. Here's my intrepid winter explorer. That's the pond behind him. He had just come running from the neighbor's yard and ran across a corner of it, which just about made my heart stop. Maybe it's a lack of faith, or maybe it's having grown up in Los Angeles, but I can't quite grasp the concept of walking on water, frozen or otherwise.
Faith is much more cautious. There are good and bad points to that.
This next shot may not be for the squeamish. This is one reason I'm not so crazy about the cold. I've never been officially diagnosed, but I seem to fit the description of Raynaud's syndrome, where the cold triggers restriction or even cuts off circulation to my extremities. It doesn't happen as often as it used to, but I had a lovely episode this week, as you can see in my little finger. Pretty freakish, huh?
Have I mentioned I'm looking forward to spring?

Happy New Year! I don't think I'm alone in being glad that 2008 is at a close. I'm anxious to put it behind me and start over, in a couple of different ways.

We had a nice Christmas. My kids lacked for nothing. My siblings, led by my sister Kirstin, knew we wouldn't be going out too much to go shopping for gifts. So, the week before Christmas, two big boxes showed up at our house full of gifts and other Christmas items, such as this gingerbread house kit that we put together on Christmas Eve.

Now we're properly attired.
And of course, it must be sampled.
The masterpiece. It was tasty too.
Later that night, the kids opened their new pajamas.
Dorian and Faith loved their gifts on Christmas day. Faith's face here says it all.
We had a good Christmas, even when Quinn developed his first fever. It was nerve-wracking for me and miserable for him, but after 2 days, he was fine. We think it was something Kurt brought home from work, because the two of them had parallel symptoms.

Faith's quote of the week: This evening, after the sun went down, she and I were looking out the window at the moon and the evening star. She commented that the moon looked like a smile. Then I pointed out the star. She said "that's a planet." I told her she was right, that was Venus. Then she said "But where's Jupiter?" My budding astronomer remembers last month, when we were looking at this picture. Sometimes she frightens me with the things she comes up with to say.

Here's to a great and uneventful 2009.

Let it snow!
Kurt came home from work early on Friday, knowing we were about to get pounded by the same storm that dumped snow on Las Vegas. I'm glad he did. He needed some time playing in the snow.
The kids had a wonderful time too.
Even Quinn seemed okay with it.
Here's a fun shot. This is that same picnic table this afternoon, after the Friday storm and today's storm.
This is the pond. Dorian and Faith seem to think they will be going skating soon.
We have a walkway under that snow somewhere.

I love the single icicle hanging from the lamppost.

I'm excited today is the solstice. I'm not thinking of it as the first day of winter this year. I'm thinking of it as the shortest day of the year, and therefore we'll be getting more sun from here on out. We need some sun.

The kids are excited for Christmas and ask daily if it's time to open presents. Not very long now. Then we'll have to think of something else to look forward to, besides spring. We always look forward to spring.

The storms of life. We're living in a winter wonderland. Those of you blessed not to live in the northeast may have heard we had a significant ice storm this week. It coated trees and power lines with ice, which was very pretty when the moon came out on Friday night. But it also meant some of those trees and lines came down, and lots of people are without power. We never lost power, though we did lose our cable connection, which meant no phone or internet. But that's a minor annoyance compared to having no power for heating. The local high schools and colleges have become temporary shelters for people without heat. And there doesn't seem to be much rhyme or reason to the power losses. As I said, we never lost power, but a mile down the road from us is a traffic signal at a major intersection that hasn't worked since Thursday. Do you remember learning in driver's ed that if you come to a signal that is out, you should treat it like a four-way stop? Yeah, that isn't happening down there. I don't know how many accidents have occurred because of it. But the good news is the roads are well plowed and salted to taste, so as long as wherever we're going has power, we're fine. I had a dentist appointment on Friday, but when I got there, there was a hand written note on the door about their power loss, and they couldn't call some people (like me) because of the phone lines being out. It's been quite an adventure for some.

The storm hasn't dampened the spirit of the season. We got Secret Santa-ed last night. Just as we were finishing dinner, the doorbell rang. On our doorstep, we found a gift with a note about its being the first day of Christmas. We got a Pepperidge Farm tree, made of several packages of Goldfish and Milanos. Dorian and Faith were very excited. So if you're reading this, thank you very much, and I really hope you didn't biff it on our unsalted front walk. That's a bad habit we get into when we only go in and out of the garage.

We're doing well other than the storm adventures. I'm knocking on wood as I say that I think all illness has been squashed in our house. And may it last. No one wants to be sick for Christmas, which is just over a week away. How did that happen?

Just a little classic 80's movie to mark the day.

Yes, it's my birthday. I was born on the 39th anniversary of the Pearl Harbor bombing, and the day before John Lennon was murdered. Just a couple of iffy signs to start life with. This is my 6th birthday in a row where I've been either pregnant or breastfeeding. For the record, I'm making no prediction as to my status next year. If I've learned anything this year, it's that the best laid plans can all turn to crap.

We sort of had our celebration yesterday, just because things are generally easier on Saturday than Sunday. Here I caught Faith making my cake.
And the kids' favorite part, blowing out the candles.
Kurt made me my favorite chicken and feta dinner, and we watched a lot of football. After all the football games were over, we watched The Two Towers. And then this morning we woke up to snow. And another year passes.

In other news, Quinn weighed in at 13 lbs 4 oz this week, up nearly a pound from last month. He's growing! I think (knock on wood) the illness is on it's way out. And this week's word appears to be favorite. Both older kids are starting to grasp the concept of favorites. Many times in the last few days, I've heard Faith say "You're my favorite mommy." Okay, I admit, that one got to me.

Tis the season to be jolly again, and our year of the unexpected is almost over. May it never repeat.

We had a great Thanksgiving. The cousins loved playing with each other in the added space in the basement. We had lots of good food and good company, and it was so good for me to have some more adult conversations. Only 4 months to go.

I went to the other ward's sacrament meeting on Sunday morning. I don't know if this will be a long term solution, since we'll trade times with them after the new year, but for now, it works. It was good to take the sacrament, and just be there. And things didn't fall apart in my absence.

We've had snow, but then Monday the sun came out, and it got up to 50, so we went outside to play. We did that again today. I'm all for winter delaying it's real appearance.

I also took Quinn to our pediatrician on Monday. He never did shake whatever he picked up at the hospital, and the last few days, it worsened into serious congestion with yellow snot, and coughing. Turns out he has a sinus infection. Poor kid. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but I feel like a first time parent again. I remember being pretty anxious when Dorian got sick for the first time. I took him in because he was getting dehydrated with all the throwing up. I was much more relaxed with Faith, and knock on wood, I've yet to take her to the doctor for an illness. Then along came Quinn. I'm sure we'll both grow out of it, but in the mean time, we'll probably know about every bug that works its way through our neighborhood and our church. And the older kids will continue their course. Dorian's gotten into the habit of using a word he just learned in every context, appropriate or not. This week's word is important. Example: "Dorian, it's time to get dressed. " "It's not important, Mommy." or "What do you want for lunch?" "It's not important, Mommy." Alrighty then. Nevermind that I think he's going through a growth spurt and has become a bottomless pit. He ate three bowls of pasta last night, two of his own, and then he finished off Faith's. But that's okay. It's not important.

What can I say? Holidays throw everything off, even if we haven't actually had that holiday yet. We are very much looking forward to Thanksgiving in a couple of days, and having cousin time for the kids. Kurt's brother and family will be joining us for the occasion. We've been working frantically on our basement in the meanwhile, a work in progress. Eventually, we want to have a play room, laundry/bathroom, spare bedroom, storage room, and workshop down there. It sounds like a lot, but the basement is the whole area of the house, minus the garage. I dream of having a 2 car garage, but I think I'll have to admit that that will be a different house. But I'm happy with the results of the basement so far. We have shelves sectioning off the different "rooms," and a foam rubber floor on what will be the play room. I moved all the toys downstairs, so yay, no more clutter in the kids' bedroom! There is also a TV and DVD player and bean bag chairs. As I said, a work in progress, but so far, Dorian and Faith love it. And I think the cousins will too. And eventually, Quinn will join in the play down there. First he has to master other things. Here's one thing he's got a pretty good handle on. He hates being on his stomach.
So he takes care of that.
and rolls over within seconds of being put down.
He doesn't got from his belly to his back yet. Why would he? He doesn't like that view. But he's getting pretty mobile, and he'll also now reach for toys. So I think we're making progress overall.
He also loves his swing. Good thing too, otherwise I don't think I'd ever get dinner done.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

I haven't slept much this week. It's been a transition for Quinn to get used to sleeping without covers. I tried layers with long sleeved onsie, socks, pajamas, and a sleep sack, with the space heater going, and then a few days later added a cap to the whole ensemble, and he still woke up around midnight freezing. I finally broke down and added a crocheted afghan, as in, lots of holes for ventilation, but that seemed to help quite a bit, and now he isn't so cold anymore.

The whole ER experience seems a bit surreal now. Did I really go into Quinn's room and find him unresponsive? Did we really have 10 emergency responders in our living room working on him? Did I really sit outside the CAT scan room at the hospital and picture the worst? Unfortunately, the answer is yes to all of them. We do what we can to prevent such things, but they do happen sometimes.

And now Quinn appears to be sick. I don't know whether he got it at the hospital or from something the older kids brought home from church, but he's congested and coughing. I'd asked our doctor at what point I should call her, since I'm not used to bringing sick kids to the doctor, I'm used to treating them at home. She said if he looks like he's having trouble breathing, then call, and he definitely isn't so far. Let's pray it stays that way.

In other news, Dorian had his first teeth cleaning this week. That was exciting. I was worried how that would go, since we've tried in the past and he wouldn't open his mouth. But he did fine this time, and his teeth look good. Yay! Maybe he didn't get his parents' perpetually weak teeth. Today was also his debut in the Primary program. I of course missed it, being home with Quinn, but Kurt reports he delivered his line on cue, and he wasn't the most distracting four-year-old on the podium. And Faith was very sad not to be up there performing as well, surprise surprise. I'm glad it went well, but I'm really sad I missed it. I hope I don't have too many more instances like this. I feel like I'm choosing between my kids, and it's an awful feeling. I felt like that through most of Quinn's NICU stay, where I wanted to be with him, but my older kids needed me as well. I'm hoping the winter goes by quickly. And we know it's coming. This morning, there were three deer in the trees behind our house. We only see them when it gets cold, so winter must be setting in. I'm getting cold just thinking about it.

Back when I updated this blog daily, I found myself composing that night's entry throughout the day. It got revised based on different events that happened, but by the time I sat down to write, I had pretty much mapped out in my mind what I wanted to say. When I shifted to weekly updates, I did the same thing, only the entry got revised over the course of a whole week. This week's entry probably went through the most drastic revision yet. I had planned to talk about Quinn being weighed this week at 12 lbs 7 oz, and having a physical therapy session, and how much more personable he is becoming day by day, but Friday night changed all that. And just to "spoil" the ending, he's fine, and we are pretty sure it was an accident and won't have any lasting effects, but it was nothing short of terrifying.

Friday evening, I put Quinn down for a nap. I didn't cover him at all, but there was a down comforter at the other end of the crib. About an hour later, as Kurt and I were getting Dorian and Faith ready for bed, I needed to get something out of Quinn's room. He had turned himself completely around in the crib and gotten the comforter over his head. I pulled it off, and he was still breathing, but completely limp and unresponsive. I picked him up, called his name, brought him into the light of the hall and the noise of the other kids, and there was no change. I called 911, and within minutes volunteer EMT's were at our door. Fire stations are plentiful in our heavily wooded area, and we have one just down the street from us. They gave him oxygen and tried to stimulate him until the paramedics came. When they came, they did a heel stick to test his blood sugar, which he didn't even react to. But by the time we'd decided to head to the hospital, he had opened his eyes and was attempting to focus, and his hands and feet weren't quite so blue. Our neighbors saw the lights and came over and stayed with the older kids while Kurt and I went to the ER. By the time we were there, Quinn was starting to move around by himself again. Three or four doctors and as many nurses surrounded him and fired questions at us about his medical history and the night's events (They also complimented us for using cloth diapers. Yay.) Since he was awake and aware, it wasn't as dire as it could have been and things were done pretty methodically. They took blood and urine, looking for infections, and sent him to have a chest x-ray and a CAT scan. He complained about the blood sample, which gave us a lot of hope. It had been frightening to see him so inert earlier. By about 1 a.m. we had the results from the x-ray and the CAT scan, both of which were normal. At that point, they recommended he stay overnight for observation, but everyone was pretty sure it was a one-time event, related to suffocating under the heavy blanket, and that he would be okay. The main doctor we saw was named Fred, and totally reminded me of my uncle Fred. When I asked him what happened, he said "What happened is you got the bejesus scared out of you, but he's going to be fine and dandy." He then commented we must have done something like this before, Quinn being our third child. We said no, and he was incredulous. I described for him the only event remotely similar, which was when Dorian, at two and a half, fell and gashed his scalp open, and we went to urgent care for stitches. He just shook his head and said we were overdue in that case. I'm not sure how I feel about that, whether it's comforting, or foreboding. But we were assured life would resume, as long as we quit using blankets in the crib. That will be a big change. It's cold here, and layering clothing just isn't enough. Hopefully a space heater will take up the slack, but I'm worried about keeping Quinn warm this winter. And as we've already discussed, this didn't happen with my other kids, and I hadn't realized how mobile Quinn had become. To go from relatively stationary to capable of moving two feet away is a big step for him.

After things started to settle, and it was clear that Quinn would be fine, Kurt and I began to comment that this was shaping up to be the most positive experience we'd had at a hospital. That we weren't annoyed with anyone would have been good enough. But everyone was uniformly pleasant to work with. And they were all sure we would go home in the morning. Morning came, and the attending pediatrician came through on his rounds. He was a perfectly affable guy, and Quinn smiled and giggled at him, which was music to my ears. He said Quinn looked great and would get ready for us to be discharged. I called Kurt, who had gone home at about 2 to sleep, so that he could come get us. But here's where the story gets revised a bit. We thought, "This is great. We've had good people to work with, we've identified the problem and how to avoid it in the future, and we're on our way home." But the ensuing 5 hours isn't accounted for in the general slowness of a hospital's pace.

The pediatric resident needed to sign Quinn's discharge form. I had mistakenly thought that seeing the attending doc would bypass all that, but I guess I'm still unfamiliar with the medical feudal system. When the resident came in, he said we needed to repeat the blood sample, because they had too many anomalies in it. It had been taken through an IV in the ER, and that apparently messes with the chemistry enough to account for the problems they saw. Either way, it didn't do good things for my confidence in the ER staff's ability to do things right.

For some reason, it took the phlebotomist more than an hour to come take Quinn's blood. And then we had to wait for it to come back. Kurt and I asked the resident if the results would change whether or not we went home, as in, could they call us with the results and we'll deal with them, whatever they are, through our own pediatrician? But he kept assuring us that it wouldn't be much longer. And then he came back and said the urine sample also had too many anomalies in it, and that needed to be redone. Now I really didn't have any confidence in the ER. Maybe they just aren't used to patients Quinn's size. Let's hope. The resident said what they were seeing was consistent with type I diabetes, and that didn't make sense, given Quinn's age, and a lack of family history, therefore, we needed to do them all again. The urine sample involved taping a bag to Quinn and waiting for him to fill it. Fortunately, that didn't take to long, and by the time it was sent off, the blood work had come back and was normal, so we were released, and told we'd be called with the other results. Thank heaven.

I can't quite describe how we're feeling about it all at this point. I don't think the shock has entirely worn off, so if I seem like I'm describing it with some disconnect, that's probably why. But no mistake, this is the stuff parents' nightmares are made of, and we're feeling blessed that Quinn is fine. We're also feeling better knowing that it isn't because he was a preemie, that this could have happened to any baby. That may seem like cold comfort, but considering what we've all been through this year, knowing that he has normal tendencies as well is oddly comforting. And I'll need that during our long cold winter, where I don't expect to get much sleep.

On a completely different and much lighter note, among my earlier iterations of this entry, before Friday's nightmare, I included this story, for those who enjoyed my pumpkin story last week. Be warned: the f-bomb is dropped at least once. Despite that, I just about busted a gut when I first read it last year. Now of course, I empathize. Where do these vegetarian dogs come from anyway?

Faith called this a princess cheerleader outfit. She must be a princess, no matter what. And that's not a pom-pon. It's a magic wand. Alrighty then.
Dorian got pretty hot in this outfit. Despite the snow earlier this week, we had a pretty mild day.
And here's baby bee.
The whole crew.
We went to our immediate neighbors and that's as far as we could really go in our spread out neighborhood. Then Kurt took the two older kids to the mall, which was packed, from what I hear. They loved it though. They've asked a few times since when we're going trick or treating again.

We tried to get into a few more of the Halloween traditions which we hadn't done in past years. This is the first year we carved a pumpkin with our kids, and it obviously wasn't meant to be. Kurt sat down with the kids in the kitchen and carved your standard jack o'lantern. Then we made the mistake of leaving it there. We put the kids to bed, and Kurt got in the shower. Then I heard this odd noise, like wood being ground up. It wasn't wood, however. It was our obnoxious hound eating the face off our jack o'lantern. We were thoroughly unimpressed. Kurt thought maybe it looked scarier afterward, sort of like a Phantom of the Opera jack o'lantern. So we stuck it on the porch and lit it. Then some creature of the night came along and ate its other eye and made off with the top, so by morning we had about one-third the pumpkin we'd started out with. Not to worry, the neighbor's dog came over and finished the job. I might just take that as a sign and not do it again next year.

We enjoyed some nice fall weather this week. It doesn't take long to make a huge leaf pile around here.
And Faith "helped."
Quinn is getting more and more talkative.
We've begun our isolation. So those of you who know us in real life, we'll see you next spring. I told Kurt I wanted to make a paper chain, but he said "Until when?" and therein lies the problem. Just how long will winter be? Who knows. We'll find things to keep us occupied, but it won't be the same, that's for sure.

Quinn had an appointment this week with an ophthalmologist. Despite being clear of ROP, he had another check up. I was really annoyed that we were doing it, given that it's late October, and we spent an hour in a standing-room-only waiting room where about one third of the people were coughing. And Quinn wasn't the only baby being checked out that day. That night, I lost sleep listening to Quinn snore through his sudden congestion. He still has it, but he doesn't have any other symptoms to go along with it. No runny nose, no coughing, no fever, just a rattle in his airway. Very annoying. But his eyes were declared fine, just like they were last time, and the doctor said bring him back when he's 3 and we'll see how he is then. Great. Now we really aren't going anywhere until spring, least of all to a doctor's office when we're healthy.

I realized that we've crossed a milestone this week. Quinn has now spent more time at home than in a hospital. How time flies. And today he rolled over, and I think it was for real this time. Previous times he did that, he was already on a slanted surface. But this time, he was up on his elbows looking around, and rolled onto his back. Yay for progress!

Quinn is doing his physical therapy exercises. He's getting much better as lifting his head and it's only been 2 weeks since his evaluation.

We spent part of yesterday at the pumpkin patch. It was a gorgeous day to spend outside.
Dorian and Faith have claimed their pumpkins.

"Look Mommy! It's a little baby pumpkin! I have a little baby pumpkin! Where's the mommy pumpkin?"
I have a picture like this from last fall, and yes, they've grown!
The drive home. The northeast is gorgeous this time of year, no question.
I love fall, but we're looking into a lot winter of isolation. It doesn't help that Dorian has learned about seasons and now asks almost daily if it's spring yet. I'll never survive if he doesn't give that up!

The fall also brings election time. I have to say I'm sick of politics and wouldn't mind if the elections were over already. Kurt says that's just because I'm sorry I'm not running for anything. Ha! After hearing my sister Erin's stories about her campaign, I don't think I'll be running for office. She's running for school board in southern California, www.kutnick4kids.com. I'm sure all candidates on all levels are ready for it to be over.

It's generally well known that when attempting to take pictures, you take several shots and hope one of them will turn out well. The probability of one good shot decreases with the number of subjects. It plummets if any of those subjects are children or animals, both because they are less likely to behave, and because they have less patience and so fewer shots are taken. So without further ado, this is my favorite shot from our family's attempt to take pictures yesterday. It's such a day-in-the-life shot.
This one's a little tamer. I just need to play with the brightness and exposure level a bit. It would have been almost perfect if we could have convinced Monty to look at the camera, rather than trying to follow whatever scent he caught, but that's who he is.
And we are a happy family.