Fashion Models:
Courtney

I slung my straw purse over my shoulder, grabbed my bottle of cold water and headed out the front door.

I was wearing a pair of ratty shorts, a tank top and flip flops I usually wear while working in my yard.

My hair was a mess, as I had rolled out of bed that morning and opted to clean the house over taking a shower.

I put on my black sunglasses, the ones with the rhinestones sprinkled around the frame, as they are big and would hopefully distract from my messy bed-hair and face bare of make-up.

I walked down the front steps and along the sidewalk.

With car keys in hand, I stepped onto the driveway and made my way toward my car.

I yelled across the driveway to my 5 year old twin daughter, "Here - start the car," and I tossed the keys into the air.

It was at that moment - when she stood in front of me - tall and poised - mature and beautiful - confident ... that I realized that she was no longer a 5 year old child - no longer my sweet baby girl - no longer standing behind me .... anymore.

It was at that moment that ... I saw her as a young woman - as a flower standing tall - as an image of my younger self and not the child I have always looked after.

It was at that moment - as the sun enlightened the beauty of her face and the keys floated through the air, as if in slow motion, that ... I saw her.

Not behind me.

Not beside me.

But ...

Out in front of me ...

Standing at the threshold that will lead her ...

Away from me ...

Into her own world.

It was a sad awakening, but ...

She had a smile on her face.

On the upside ... I have sadness, but ... I have done my very best to prepare her. She is a flower and she will do well. I can only hope that the foundation I have layed for her is strong and holds tightly the memories and lessons to serve as her touchstone. I can only hope that that smile ... goes with her!

I love you, Courtney.

When you're five years old ... you one day decide that you can put on your own shoes and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're eight years old ... you one day decide that you can ride your bike on your own and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're ten years old ... you one day decide that you can choose your own clothes and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're twelve years old ... you one day decide that you can make your own breakfast and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're thirteen years old ... you one day decide that you can decorate your own room and you plaster posters on the walls and you won't let you mother help you.

When you're fifteen years old ... you one day decide that you can shop at the mall for your own clothes and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're seventeen years old you can ...

Put on your shoes by yourself.

Drive yourself to school, to parties, to the mall and and to your friends' houses.

Pick out your own clothes and cool outfits.

Make yourself breakfast and lunch and dinner and pick up chili-cheese-fries and a Route 44 cherry lime-aide from Sonic all by yourself and anytime you want.

Put posters and pictures of your friends and art you created and any crap you want on your walls and ceilings and behind the door of your room.

You can hang out at the mall and spend countless hours wasting time and spending far too much of you parents' money.

But ...

When your dad one day asks ...

"Courtney - can you pick me up some charcoal on your way home from Starbucks?"

You will likely say ...

"I don't know where to buy charcoal," and shoot your father the most innocent of childish grins.

"At the 7-11. You can pick me up some charcoal at the 7-11," your father will say nicely.

Then, you will likely say ...

"I don't know how to buy charcoal," and shoot your father the most innocent of childish grins.

"You just pick up the bag, walk up to the check-out counter and pay the guy," your father will advise.

Then, you will likely say ...

"Don't you have to be like 18 or something to buy charcoal?" and flash your father the most ridiculously confused smile.

"Uh - no," your father will respond.

Then, you will likely say ...

"But ... there are those things that kids aren't allowed to buy. Isn't charcoal like one of those things kids can't buy unless they're like 18 years old or something?" and flash your father the fakest confused smile you can conjure up.

"Uh - no," your father will respond. "It's charcoal, Courtney," he will say, a confused look riddling his fatherly face. "Charcoal. You do know what charcoal is?"

Then, you will likely say ...

"Uh - no."

On the upside ... *sigh*

*Note: The second picture of an innocent Courtney is a charcoal self-portrait done by Courtney.

-

Here he is.

Courtney's cat.

The one I told her she couldn't have.

The one her daddy let her have anyway.

The one she named Banana.

Banana Pancake, to be exact.

Banana, for short.

We took him outside.

It was his first time outdoors.

His first time to feel the grass and hear the birds.

He just sort of stood there.

He was kinda freaked out.

A bit of a scaredy cat.

I took these picutres ... not because I think he is so cute.

Not because I love him to pieces.

Not because he is so sweet that I just want to pour maple syrup all over him and eat him up!

Not even because he is the 11th member and an essential part of our happy little family.

Nooooo ...

I took these pictures ...

So I could practice using my ...

Canon Rebel XTI.

The one I got ...

5 months ago ...

The one I got for ...

CHRISTMAS!

On the upside ... It took me a lot of pictures to get these four - and they're not all that great. I learned A LOT about what NOT TO DO, in the process of taking these four measly pictures. But ... I'm not giving up. I'm going to learn how to use this camera - learn all of its functions and dials and buttons and knobs and ... settings. I'm determined to learn it - I know I can do it!

(MamaGeek and Kami - So ... what do you think? Am I on my way to being a real photographer - like you guys? Can you see those whiskers?)

Courtney saw a sign on the way home from school that read:

FREE KITTENS

Courtney wanted a kitten.

I said, "NO!"

She begged,
"Please, please, please - can we get another kitten?"

I said, "NO!"

She asked for days and days - promising everything under the sun.

The promise I liked best was, "I'll be nicer to everyone."

I almost caved on that one - we could use some additional niceness from Courtney!!

I said, "NO!"

So .....

It was the weekend and I gave my husband a list of chores I wanted done!

One of the chores on his list was to take a table and six chairs from our garage to our warehouse.

He asked Courtney to go along to help him unload the furniture.

THEY CAME HOME WITH THIS:

I rolled my eyes!

I screamed a bit!

I shook my head and turned my head away.

And then ...

I said ...

"Give me that baby!"

"I'm naming him Banana," Courtney announced proudly. "Banana Pancake - Banana for short," she laughed hysterically.

I rolled my eyes.

"BANANA?" I held the baby up in the air and then smothered his teeny-tiny little head with kisses. "That is a ridiculous name."

"No it's not," Courtney cried. "It's from Juno."

"It's ridiculous - go to the back door and YELL it," I insisted.

She did.

"BA-NAN-A," she screamed.

"See!" I smiled, and then kissed that sweet little Banana on top of the head once again!

On the upside ... I know - I know - You were certain that I was the one in charge around my house - THE BOSS even!!

AP-PAR-ENT-LY NOT!

That's okay ... I've been needing some currency to hold over Courtney's head. That kitten came along just in time for summer!!

Now ... I need to have a talk with Courtney's father - remind him who is in charge around here!

Photo Story Friday
(Sorry - can't get my PSF photo to load ????)

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Okay ...

So ...

I have this cute little deck off of my second story bedroom that I like to go out on to be by myself.

I go out there to drink my coffee.

I go out there to look at the birds (no I don't - who has time to look at the birds - ACK!).

I go out there when I need to have a quiet place to think.

I go out there to read a book or a magazine.

I love my little deck and it is normally very peaceful.

That is ...

Unless one of my kids searches me out ...

These are sticky notes plastered to the inside of one of the doors that leads out to my nice little, peaceful deck.

Let's take closer look - shall we.

This is a term of endearment my older daughter's have resorted to calling me.

Instead of ... Mom or Mother or Mama or Mommy ...

They call me MEH. Scream it out loud - go ahead. That's what it sounds like when Courtney or Chloe are looking for me in my house, "MEH!"

Okay ...

Let's see what Courtney found so important that she had to disturb me on my quiet little deck and use my expensive sticky-notes to write me this long message.

She has been begging me for weeks, "Please MEH! Can I have a puppy for my Birthday. Please. Please. Please."

She is not getting a puppy!

Now get on outta here and let me look at the damn birds!

-

Daughter came home from Texas State over the weekend.

She crawled into bed with me, woke me up with her funny laugh and smelling of Tacos.

I lost her in the house later in the morning - sent her a text saying ... "Where are you. Come spend time with me."

She sent me a text back saying ..."We're... playing hide and seek. You have to come find me :)"

I love her so much.

I want her always to be my little girl!!

-

We are a LOUD family!

Not only are we LOUD because there are so many kids in our house that talk A LOT - play LOUD music and games and TVs - but ... we are just those sort of LOUD people - you know!

My husband is the quietest of the bunch.

Then Little Billy.

Then Chloe.

But ...

Me and Courtney and Alexis got the LOUD personalities and LOUD voices - the LOUD gene. LOUD!

Courtney is the LOUDEST of the whole On The Upside family.

She is!

She is theatrical!

She is flamboyant!

She is dramatic!

And ...

She talks LOUDLY!

It's her trademark.

Her signature trait.

She is LOUD!

One day recently, she was telling me, "Sometimes ... my mind ... YELLS at me," she was so serious.

I said, "What do you mean? You hear ... voices?" I was secretly a bit worried about this odd statement.

She said, "NO - it's my thoughts. They YELL at me, like when I'm trying to go to sleep - and I have to tell them - STOP - STOP YELLING AT ME!" she explained - LOUDLY.

I say, "Does that work?"

She says, "NO ... not until I do what they say."

"Are they screaming at you to do bad things?" I ask.

"No," she says, "Just normal stuff - like if I'm thinking about things I need to do - like my homework - my mind is YELLING for me to do it - you know?"

I said, "Yes, Hon," just so the poor thing wouldn't think there was something seriously wrong.

On the upside ... I wanted to say ... "That's what they call - karma - Sweetie! Now you know ... how we feel!"

It's not often I have alone time with my teenage girls.

Often, they are on the same schedules - doing the same stuff.

I go to their basketball games - they are both there.

I go to their softball games - they are both there.

I take them to church - there they both sit next to each other - at my side.

I go into their room - there they are - together.

Lately, though - I have had the unique opportunity to spend some alone time with each of my 16 year old daughters.

Why, you might ask?

Well ...

Because I am the one teaching them to ...

DRIVE!

I take one out to drive ...

Leave the other one home to watch the younger kids.

It's been kind of nice ...

Aside from the occasional moments of panic that prompt me to SCREAM or SQUEAL in fear for my life and then therefore might bring on a few moments of bickering between the teenage driver and the frightened - obnoxiously nervous mother!

It's been nice.

We talk.

Well ...

I talk.

We run errands.

Might as well get a few errands out of the way while we are out on the road.

One day, we were out - Courtney and I - driving.

We stopped by the mall to pick up a wedding gift at Dillards.

As we were getting out of the van, I heard Courtney - getting out of the driver's side door, say ... "Crap - I forgot my phone," she had a sour look on her face.

As we started off across the parking lot - her grumbling and mumbling behind me - I heard her say, under her breath, "I guess that means I'll have to talk to - you."

On the upside ... Okay --- so maybe it's just me enjoying this one-on-one time (*sigh*).