Awesome Loganville Photographer - Melissa Brown Photography Cute pics of my kiddos

Hey there.  I wanted to share my recent experience with a lovely photographer in Loganville who happens to also be a friend of mine from church.  Her name is Melissa Brown and she is fantastic to say the least.  Let me tell you why I think she's special.

She took awesome candid and posed photos of my kids.

All five of them.

They are smiling.

They are cute.

She even managed to handle the three year old with relative ease.

And my daughter Pauli who has autism.

Now let me tell you something.  Anyone who can get good sweet photos of a special needs kid, an ornery three year old boy, three other siblings and farm animals at the same time is a talented person.

It does take a bit of finesse to handle special needs kids and Melissa Brown has got it.  Just the right amount of patience, kindness and a certain "I don't know what" (Imagine that in french, sounds cooler but I don't know how to spell it.)
Anyway, take a look if your are curious.  We took these pictures at the home of Shelley Shellnutt, owner of Country Kids Camp which is super awesome as well.  Thanks Shelley!!  If you are interested you can find her on Facebook - Melissa (Biedron) Brown Photography.  Or just send me a note and I will help you find her. P.S.  You can also find Country Kid's Camp on Facebook. Have a great day

Things I do to stay sane . . .

It has been a while since I have done a list post and they are easy and fun so . . .

Things I do to stay sane when I have SEVEN kids at home on a cold day:
 Note- I am babysitting two children in addition to my five because, yeah, I am crazy like that.

1.  One word - IPOD

2.  Candy followed by locking everyone in the backyard till sugar spaze runs out.

3.  Going to my "Happy Place" and envisioning how quiet it is somewhere else in the world like say the top of Kilimanjaro.

4.  Wishing I was sitting on the moon.

5.  Remembering a time when I had no children and how horrible it felt not knowing if I ever would.

6. Practice being sad imagining "empty nest syndrome"  which will not happen for about 10 years.

P.S.  #6 doesn't work

7. Relive the 36 hours I spent recently in Montego Bay, Jamaica at an adults-only resort.  WOW

8. Locking myself in the laundry room and sitting on the dryer so they can't see my feet under the door.  Practice shallow breathing so they can't hear me.

9. Fake some gastric distress so I have an excuse to stay in the bathroom for long  periods of time and read.

10. Plan date night with Roy that will probably be way in to the future like say after the NEW president  is sworn in.  Yes.  I believe!

11.  Plan next Auburn Girls' trip which will also not be soon enough.

12.  Bake best chocolate chip cookies in the world. Eat. Repeat.

13.  Send annoying texts to my friends, especially Jen who is probably busy at work in the ICU trying to save some one's life right now.
14.  Plan to clean entire house but realize I am just fooling myself.

15.  Three words - Words with Friends

and the number one way I survive a cold day inside with seven child

16. Write semi-humorous blog post to entertain friends and strangers and make them happier that they are not ME!!

P.S. Kim if you happen to read this, I promise I am taking excellent care of your offspring :)

Selective Reduction - My view ( ie - aborting babies in a multiple pregnancy)

I am looking out my bedroom window in to the backyard below where my five children are whooping and hollering with joy on our much loved trampoline.  Its about 60 degrees on a sunny February afternoon.  Spring can sometimes come early in the south, really early and then slap us with a freak March snow storm. 

So I am watching them and as occasional sentimental moms sometimes do, I had a moment.  I have them more frequently as they get older because I know these elementary school years are flying by.  I will have exactly one year with all five children in the same school.  The quads will be in the fifth grade that year and the "baby" will be in kindergarten. 

I had a moment of "what if?" 
I looked at each of their laughing smiling faces and call to mind each of their personal gifts and weaknesses.  What  I love about each of them and what drives me crazy about each of them. 

I think about how nine years ago I sat in three different specialists offices hearing lectures/ recommendations on the "advantages," prudence, of selective reduction also known as abortion.  Scared, hormonal, newly pregnant with, at the time, five babies (the quads were quints until one miscarried at 8 weeks,) elated to be pregnant and afraid to breath wrong lest I have yet another miscarriage.  Feeling frail and vulnerable and listening to the experts telling me repeatedly that "it will increase the chances of survival for the remaining multiples" or "it really is expensive to raise that many babies"  Seriously?  Like I am going to weigh the pros and cons based on a cost per baby basis? Statistics of survival a slight maybe, money?  Not on your or their lives.


I respect doctors for their ability to heal and make life or death choices, for researching and developing surgeries, medicines and therapies to make peoples lives better but in this instance my fragile heart had to decide along with my husband if I should allow all the babies growing inside me to live or have a shot at it anyway.  I am Catholic by the way so it should have been an instant no to the doctors,  but it wasn't, I pondered the consequences of each choice.  I questioned the statistics. 

What were my chances of carrying four healthy babies to term with out the reduction? I asked the specialist who routinely performed these procedures. The figure I was given was 75%.  I thought that was a pretty darn good number considering there was a 100% chance of my living with guilt and regret if I had gone through with the procedure with or without babies in the end.  At the time there was a 25% chance of miscarrying one of all of the babies because of the procedure.  The reproductive specialist I was seeing informed me that, though she recommended the procedure, she did a have a quadruplet mother chose to abort two of her babies and end up losing the other two due to the procedure itself.  I still think about that mom sometimes.  I hope she ended up with a child to hold.  I can't imagine living with that guilt.

So I actually had a flash forward during one of these selective abortion lectures.  It was to a day like today, in fact let's say it actually was today - to myself at 40 years old watching my half grown beautiful, smart happy healthy annoying imperfectly perfect children and thinking which ones would it have been?  Which ones would be missing had I listened to all that advice?  I shudder each time it crosses my mind because I know which two would be missing and I will mostly likely never tell them.  I knew this day would come as it has in various forms over the last 9 years. 

All life is precious, leave it in the Father's hands.  I know there was a likely possibility that my story would not have had such a fairytale ending and let's be real, we are talking imperfect children here.  This is not one of those blogs that waxes poetic on the perfected perfection of my perfect children and my perfect husband and my perfect home.  I have various variables and complications they have each brought to my life over the years such as filthy carpets, hand print/crayon decorated walls, huge debt because those little suckers eat A LOT, IEPs for special needs to attend, various medications to purchase for them and for me, lots of tears, lots of frustration, lots of I can't stand this for one more second moments and yet here I am staring at them lovingly out my window, my heart full to bursting because I  know I made the right choice.  Maybe one of them will be the President of the United States one day or maybe a brilliant scientist who discovers a cure for all infertility thus allowing a new generation of moms to be spared from making this agonizing decision, or maybe they will just turn out to be nice good-hearted people.  The world needs those just as much as the former don't you think?

I know I can barely stand the thought of looking at them wondering how my life would be so different without the two the doctors wanted to "reduce."  I remember when my decision to forgo the procedure cemented firmly in my heart - "I worked so hard and prayed so hard to get those guys in there and you are NOT going to take them away from me.  Only God has that right."  I told my perinatologist that this is what I wanted and I wanted to make sure he was going to give his all to helping me carry the pregnancy as far as possible.  He assured me he would and he did a great job.  I still think fondly of him today. 

I made sure to take my four healthy babies back to see all the doctors who had encouraged me to reduce, when they were about 6 months old.  No longer looking tiny and fragile like preemies, they were happy and alive.  I wanted them to see that I made the right decision and to plant a seed of thought so that the next multiple mom they counseled would have the benefit of my evidence that sometimes the best decision wasn't what medical science determined but what a mom's heart tells her.

P.S. Feel free to view the evidence of my good decision by looking at the blog header above :)


*** I have a friend who made the decision to reduce her large pregnancy and my heart still aches for her.  I respect that she did what she felt was necessary at the time and should she read this I hope she knows I do not judge her or think less of her.  In fact I think she is fantastic, I just wish she had never been put in that horrible position.

Days gone by and the loss of a friend



Can you spot Kristin?  I am the third from the right.  A short brunette.  She's the tall blond.


I realize I haven't written much this year or at all since this summer.  The reason is two fold.  One is that I haven't been inspired with anything to share or anything funny to say.  The other is that I have been writing or trying to write a new children's book.  From what I understand it is a nearly impossible market to break into but I am not going to give up.  It will probably just take some years of working on it and figuring out who to know in that world.  Wish me luck. 

Several things have happened recently that have gotten me thinking.  How much time do we actually get here on Earth?  We all say "Oh each day is a gift, Life is short and you never know how much time you will get."  But secretly on the inside, don't we all think we'll get about 90 something years?  Do you really think your life might be cut short at say 41 like my childhood friend Kristin who died this Christmas morning after a year long painful bout of cancer.  The thing was, from what I know which admittedly isn't much we hadn't seen each other in at least 15 years, she was a really healthy, active person.  I have been following her Caring Bridge blog for the last year and the way she talked it was like she was taking it all in stride.  Not once did she mention how sorry she felt for herself or even that she was scared although I am sure she felt this way at some point.

Kristin and I, along with another friend Mike had planned to meet up last Christmas when the bad weather blew in and she had to change her travel plans.  I wish things had worked out because that was the last chance I had to see her.  You just never know when your time will be up.  It seems that death can bring people back together as well.  When my sister Becky died a few years ago, I heard from people who I hadn't talked to since high school and it was amazing.  It made me feel so good to know people still cared after all those years.

Time goes by so fast, especially since graduating from high school.  I remember exactly how I felt that day.  How much hope I had for the future, about to embark on a whole new chapter in life.  About to become an adult (in numbers maybe but it didn't actual hit my brain until I got my first teaching job and saw people looking at me like I was in fact a grown up and so I decided maybe I needed to act like one too.)  I remember all the faces of my friends too but until Facebook came around to the over 30 crowd a few years ago, I had no idea where most of them ended up or who they married, how many kids they had and so on.  I will say that is one of the best benefits of Facebook - being able to have some kind of connection with people you have lost touch with.


So here is my tribute to Kristin -

I remember the first day I met you and I know you remember too.  It was on the school bus, in the fourth grade.  I had recently moved from Atlanta and it was my first day at a public school.  I saw you and thought  "I want to be friends with that girl because she has curly hair."  You later told me you thought "I want to be friends with that girl because she has feathered hair"  Ha ha how shallow we both were and so we sat together at some point and thus a friendship was born based upon our hairstyles, how girl like.  After that year we spent time at each others house with in walking distance, my back yard had a creek for exploring and a pasture we could sneak into to pet the horses or sled in during our once a year snow days. You loved to brag about how you were really from Illinois and not Georgia so you knew more about the cold and the snow than I did. 

I remember that your favorite color was green and you loved cats but I hear you converted to dogs later on.  We dove into the world of middle school, Judy Blume and all the drama that ensued. We talked about boys, parents, siblings and teachers.  Cheerleading, high school, more boys and often getting into trouble with Becky and Kelly or other parties I won't mention.  I remember your first serious boyfriend.  Things started to change for all of us when those boys got in the picture didn't they?  Remember sitting through all the cold soccer games because of a couple of cute guys?  Cheerleading camp, college applications and eventually Auburn!  I am glad we converted you!  We had different experiences there and kind of lost touch but it was still comforting to have a friend from home nearby.  You called me years later and I told you I was engaged.  You promised to come to my wedding but then something must have come up because I didn't see you there and now I really regret that you couldn't make it because I never got to see you again.  When Facebook caught on you contacted me and I was happy to hear from you.  Our lives were very different but I always respected you for your independence and determination.  You seem to have become quite the hit in Huntsville and I am so very happy you had so many friends there and such a full happy life.  We will miss you Kristin,  did you notice I spelled your name right?  I also remember how mad it made you when people put an e in where the i goes :) I will pray for you and your family every Christmas and you will never be forgotten.  War Eagle friend.

A Moment of Joy.



Photo by David Beaulieu




I love those little things that happen, probably everyday, we fail to notice because we have our ipods on too loud or Fox News is on 24/7 or you have say 5 children who inherited a talking gene from there momma.  Those little things that let you know there is something else out there.  We are not alone.  Life is not finite.  Are they just wishful thinking or really signs?

I will keep this brief because talking about it too much seems to cheapen it.  It was so simple but gave me immense joy.  Mom called to talk to my kids as we had just returned from vacation.  Someone handed me the phone and she had something happy to share.

My father is an avid gardener.  He is a hodge-podger.  A little of this, a little of that.  It doesn't necessarily go together or make sense to an outsider but he grows what he likes when and where he likes it.  Flowers, vegetables, herbs here and there tucked around the steep hill outside his mountain home.  It keeps him busy and out of mom's hair.  He is good at it.  It's organized chaos to him.  So when a random flower popped up in the middle of his garden that didn't match the rest of his chaos, it didn't seem a big deal but Dad likes to know the different species and why would this one single flower pop up in the middle of his intentionally planted array of other vegetation?
A friend came by and looked at the flower and told them the flower that matched no others in the garden was named - a Becky.

****Note - in case you don't know, my sister's name was Becky.  She passed away at age 39, two years ago. 

The R word. Still?

In an age where it seems everyone can "choose" to be offended at the drop of a hat I hesitate to write this post but it needs to be said so I will.  ENOUGH WITH THE R WORD ALREADY!  In the last few months (and twice this week) I have encountered people who are not ready to give up that derogatory and highly offensive slang that we hurled at each other back in the 80's like it was nothing.  I am talking about the word retarded or worse - retard.
This is not about being politially correct although it is justified in that sense too.  Its about being humane.  Its about growing up and its about not trying to cut down someone else by referring to them as a person afflicted with a mental condition or any condition.   The real problem is that the victims here don't even know they are being offended.  That might cause some to say, "then why does it even matter?"   I will tell you why it matters.
It matters to me because when you sit next to me telling someone else that you think its funny to ask your young child  "what are you, retarded?" and you don't stop to think that the mother beside you might have a special needs child or granchild then you are clueless.  Why do we think its ok to call someone a retard?  Why is it ok to continue to use an outdated term in an offensive manner?  It broke my heart to hear a priest use the word in that manner during a homily recently and no one said a thing.  Including me because I cannot bring myself to be the bad guy even when I should.  So I write about it and hope to change someone's mind.

Each of these incidents happened to me recently and in one case it was a teenager, that one I get.  I don't hate that child for calling my gifted son a retard.  She is a child,  a self absorbed clueless one is my bet but guess why she said it?  Because she still hears adults say it!  People have stopped saying "That is so GAY!" for the most part so why can't we quit saying something or someone is retarded?  People have stopped referring to people as "oriental" (unless your over the age of 75.) So why can't we quit the R word?  I can answer that - the offended party can't speak up for themselves! 

The third incident happened yesterday while I was sitting next to an aquaintance whom I previously regarded with a great deal of respect and liked  a lot because she's just so darn fun.   She won't ever know that her casual comment  caused me a great deal of grief or that my opinion of her has taken a drastic downturn. 
I have a child with special needs.  No she is not technically "retarded" or even "intellectually disabled" though if you observed her you would probably think so (she has autism.)  However, you wouldn't know by looking at her that she is supremely bright, she taught herself to read at 3 years old, way before the rest of my typical children.  She would classify as "intellectually disabled" on any test that didn't involve Mario Karts or how to program a dvr (both she is genius at.)  There is so much more to people than a superficial term, a single word classification of one aspect of the whole person. When someone takes a term originally meant as a description and turns into an insult it makes you think, whose the one with the impaired thinking ability really?  I say the one who calls someone retarded in the first place.

So on behalf of mothers and fathers with sweet little children who are intellectually disabled I beg of you PLEASE stop using the R word.  It matters to us.  It's not funny at all.  Ever.  Move on.

A Becky-shaped void . . .Two Years have past.

There are no words - seriously what would you say anyways?

Whoa Nellie, would you look at that superb fashion sense?  I mean does it get any better than the polyester and and sweat pants (with new boots you fortunately can't see.)  This photo was taken in the late 70's. . . but I am guessing you figured that out already.

There are three people in the picture who are no longer with us, two obviously being my Grandma and Grandpa Betancourt and the third being my older sister in the rockin blue sweat suit.  I am the much cooler one on the far right.

I miss them all but my grandparents have been gone for 10 and 20 years and lets face it, they would both be about to turn 101 if they were still here.  Not that I wouldn't give anything to still have them around.  Miss em and love em always.  My grandpa was a bad @** in his time, especially for a short dude.  My grandma was hard working, loving and kind and put up with- well- him.  To give you an idea of his personality - he used to walk around singing "Oh Lord its hard to be humble, when you're perfect in every way.  When you can't wait to look in the mirror, cause you get better lookin' each day."  Yes he did.






Halloween in very cool, unGreen, plastic costumes with masks that will kill you because you can't see out of the sweaty eyeholes

 But the person this post is about is my sister Becky, who passed away two years ago today.  I still can't believe she is gone.  I still laugh at something and think I need to call her and tell her because she had a great sense of humor and would laugh at everything.  I still think of her first when I need an emergency babysitter who will work super cheap.  I still want to tell her to get her smack together and have the great life she deserves.  I still wish I could turn back time and tell her "Yes, I will drive 30 minutes to come and get you and take you to the post office so you can copy some insurance papers and mail them since your car was in an accident, even though I am 7 months pregnant with my fifth child and I have three kids in one preschool and one in another who will get out at noon."    I said no and that was probably the last thing she asked me for help with before she died.  I am not sure I will ever forgive myself even though it was a justified no.  It was still a no.

It has been two years and every three weeks since she passed I go on my Blackberry and resave her last voice mail message to me.  It was sent about three weeks before the end.  It was nothing special and that is what is so great about it.  Of course she probably wanted something because she rarely called or returned calls the last year, but it was not a sad message or dramatic, just normal.  If I listen to it I can pretend for just a few moments that she is here still.  Just 30 minutes away, not an eternity away.  Probably at my brother's house because she liked him better than me, no really and I don't blame her.  He is more fun than a barrel of monkeys and didn't lecture her as much as I did.  I was full of This-is-what-you-need-to-do-to-get-your-life-in-order advice which she never listened to but acted like she did so I would shut the bleep up.

I just wanted her to be happy.  But you can't force someone to be happy.  And you can't fix them. Or change them.  You can only love them for who they are. All crap included.  She accepted mine that's for sure.  I wonder if I will ever not feel that empty part of my otherwise joy-filled life.  There is a Becky shaped void that will probably go unfilled forever.  I am so glad to know she is with our kind and merciful Father, or close to it (sorry, but I am Catholic.)

 She is free. She is free from all of it.  All the horrible stuff of the world.  The traffic, the noise, pollution, mental illness, drugs, things that smell bad, being overweight and ill-treated for it, anxiety, being used by people she thought were her friends, confusion, disappointment and disillusionment and most of all the self-loathing we all have at times but she lived with in huge segments of her life.  Also, she hated mean people and did I mention things that smell bad?  In her case that would be cheese.  She hated the smell of cheese.




The Fab Four doing popcorn and Walt Disney on a Sunday night 70's style


If you were here today Beck, I would hug you and sit on the deck drinking beer while you played your guitar. But first I would lock the kids in the house because they would get on my nerves which is why I need the beer and then we would argue about politics and religion and who worked out more this week.  We would laugh at some dumb old joke or something Mom said (sorry Mom, but you do say funny things!) and then finally I would let the five out to run in the yard and you would laugh and say "I gotta go  now, its tough being single with no responsibilities at home."  Or something like that.



Becky playing guitar - I have no idea who that random guy is?



For now I will have to be content with your message on my phone or listening to your Cds.  At least I have that but it really isn't much.  It isn't enough but it doesn't matter. How do you fill the place of a person who was one of kind?