It was an emotional day, as you can probably tell from this photo. It was my son's first day at school (4-K). (Okay, it was actually parent-teachers today, but I need to make this story emotional... tomorrow is "technically" his first day.) It's tough knowing he'll be in the care of other people for a large portion of his day/life from this point on. It's not something that will be easy for me to get used to... but I'll get used to it. When we got back from school, I asked my son if he'd like to help me replace the toilet seat. He was all over that like flies on... well, you know. So he and I teamed up to tackle the replacement seat. All was going well... except for when he dropped the screwdriver in the toilet (true story). It was one of those things that initially upsets you, but then you kind of start to giggle when you remember the look on his face. So yeah, I had to dig that bad-boy out of the drink. Well... I took the toilet seat outside and was just about to put it in the garbage can when I noticed all the stickers on it, and remembered why they are there. You see, potty training my son was an absolute nightmare (yep, it was THAT difficult). So we implemented the "sticker method", which basically consisted of him getting to put a sticker on the toilet whenever he used the toilet (as opposed to using his diapers or underwear). Now your cursory glance might cause you to believe that all those stickers indicate success... which they do, but... for each single sticker, there was probably twenty failures (you do the math). To top it off, you are only seeing one of the two toilets that was used. Anyway, let's cut to the emotional stuff... I can be rather sentimental/emotional at times, and I admittedly (even though it sounds stupid) got a little choked-up thinking about putting this in the garbage and knowing those physical reminders of his youth will be gone for good. So, that's when I came up with this idea. Corny? Sure is. But does that toilet seat make a great tombstone or what?!?! Yes, I know that I could have made this more universally understandable had I used the "ring" portion of the toilet seat... but there are no stickers on that part, so it just wouldn't have made sense. Anyway, I guess I just wanted to say goodbye... This photograph now does what many photographs are intended to do... physically capture a memory that can be looked back on years later. Let's head on over to day 21 before I start crying or something... (By the way... what's up with all these toilet-related photos in my 365 project so far? I DO NOT have a toilet fetish... honest, I don't!)       Lighting/Setup Info - Elinchrom BX500Ri at 4.6 power level gridded. Positioned camera-right about 8 feet from subject. (Key Light) - Cybersyncs.

91/365 did a really stupid thing last night! I didn't count my two sheep when I let them in from one of their MANY potty breaks and locked Desi out for an HOUR! Martin came upstairs and said, "Where's Desi?" and glued to my computed I'm like, "Check under the bed." (Desi's our dustbunny collector) and SHIT he wasn't there! So, Martin dashes downstairs and the next thing I hear is, "Desi, did Mommy lock you outside?! You poor thing!" And there's this pathetic little whimpering sound and my heart is breaking and I'm feeling like shit trying to figure out how it happened. But we all know: shit happens. Especially with me though. I lose shit all the time. Lens caps are my specialty, but that's for another time. So, Desi runs upstairs and right into my arms, and so accusatorily he begins whimpering and licking me frantically and I can feel how cold he is despite his woolly coat and he begins trembling and I know he needs some serious reassurance that I didn't do this to him on purpose. So, I throw back the covers and he cuddles beneath them with me and begins chattering to me. I wish you could hear it. It's very endearing, Lucas or Spielberg would totally soundtrack this for one of their critters. It's "tribbletalk" to the max, a low trilling, and he usually does it while burrowing his nose as deep as he can under your arm. Martin's usually, while Martin tells Desi about his day, it's their bonding thing and very sweet to observe. Anyway, Desi's fine now and I'm going to count my two sheep before I head upstairs from now on. A side note on how it happened. I'm SO multi-tasking that I usually open the front door and say, "Go potty for treats!" and head to the kitchen to do some chores. Heck, I've even gone downstairs to the "basement" and done laundry, joined by the boys eventually and then just shut and locked the front door on my way back upstairs. I only vaguely think about home invaders walking in and killing all of us. It's that same part of me that urges me to drives sans seat belt just up to the Walgreen's two blocks up. Such a wild and crazy life I lead. But for folks who don't know, I live in a big city on a major street, it was the cost of getting the house we loved. We have a lovely, yet tiny backyard in exchange for the "highway" out front. So, that's why it's not necessarily ok to leave the door wide open the world and your dog on its doorstep. Forgive me, my Desi-do-dah! I love you. And will keep you safe. Life in our household is tumultuous, but full of great love, indeed. And just in case you're thinking of home invading, my open door policy is as of this post NOW CLOSED! PEACE Y'ALL!