On the road...

We have a trip coming up that we are really excited about. We are going into Canada, staying for 3 days in Banff and then journeying on to Saskatchewan to visit our friends, Amanda, Linds and their son Liam, and a baby due the week after we leave.

The trip involves several pretty long days of travel; a 8 hour day, a 7 hour day, and then an 11 hour day just to get to SK. On the way home we have a similar driving schedule. Of course, the worse case scenario is that the girls will whine and cry the whole time in the car and us parents will be miserable as we try our best not to whine and cry back at them. 

The best case scenario, the one I choose to embrace, is a happy family taking in the beautiful sites, singing silly songs, listening to books on tape, and enjoying each other, all while traveling to see wonderful friends. In my perfect world, Amanda will also have her baby while we are there. I can make her food and clean house and then we'll leave with smiles on our faces, ready to get back in our car for long drive home, singing all the way.

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Coming to you from a new location with a new hair-do...

Change can be a very good thing. The location of my computer was upstairs in a small room that I call my office. I did a mini makeover on the room and love the space. What I don't love is that the room is upstairs, far away from the children. They make huge messes when unattended -- actually when they are attended as well, but I can limit the catastrophe a bit better. When they are upstairs with me, they also make huge messes and then go back down stairs where life is so much fun without a mommy around.

I've been working a lot lately on pictures for customers, spending at least 2 hours editing for each session. I also have MOPS stuff, farm/rental/personal business stuff, and fun stuff to do on the computer. It is work I love and work that is necessary, but so hard to do when I am running up and down the stairs at least 10 times while I am working. It gets a bit exhausting and is pretty counter productive.

I was trying to pursued my husband that I need a laptop so I can work downstairs and keep an eye on the mayhem. I just got my beloved iMac 6 months ago, so needless to say, Mr. Practical wasn't sold on the idea. He suggested that I move the computer down stairs to the little desk in the kitchen. I came up with 101 reasons why that wouldn't work, but it got me thinking.

A few days later, I organized and cleaned up and the computer moved down stairs to the little desk in the kitchen. I swallowed my pride and said, "Brilliant idea, wonderful husband." And I am loving this new set up. I use the computer much more productively and the house is less destroyed because I am right next to Mayhem and her sister, Mayhem Jr.

Another change is the fabulous new cut and color I got last week with my birthday money. I now go to Trish at Solstice Salon after being recommended by 3 different friends. She is a hair whisperer, if there is such a thing. For the first time in my life, I have a hair cut that works with what I've got. I also love the color she gave me, dark in the back and bottom and blond highlights. I took the plunge and had Trish give me bangs too. They are the side, chunky kind, so hopefully I won't be confused with my mom like last time.

So, this is the new look from the new location. Behind me is the microwave on the table I painted red.  Beside me is a long counter top covered in dishes that taunt me much more readily now that they are in my peripheral vision. I better run....

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The Baby Keeper

This handy baby hanger is for when you need your hands free in a public restroom or dressing room. I could have used one of these the other day in McDonalds when I was trying to keep Mandy from licking the floor while I used the bathroom. I'm sure I wouldn't remember the Baby Keeper when I needed it though. :) Read More.. Read More..

Book Knowledge

I grew up in a house full of books. My mom loves books; actually everyone in my family loves books. I have quite a lot of books and find that I have a lot of trouble getting rid of them even if I know I will never read them.

I was trying to clean up my office the other day and was really frustrated that our ONE book shelf no longer holds all the books we own. We have books from our college days, even from our home school days. I have books from my great grandparents estate. Some of the books are novels that I've been given or bought myself. A few of the books are references that we use all the time. But mostly, the books sit and collect dust.

As I struggled to fit all the books in a orderly fashion into the book case, I wondered why I keep them all. Am I really going to read, "The Body" again? I suffered through it when it was required reading for a class, I doubt I will crack the cover open again. I have a few more important things to do first.

I found one book that I remember being in my mom's collection. I asked her about it once and she said she never finished it because it was so poorly written. She said, "It sure is a nice looking book though." I agree that books are beautiful, but should they serve a greater purpose?

Check out the poll on how many books you own? I am also curious what you do with all your books. Do you ever get rid of them? 

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I am... (from Emma)

I am... almost 4

I want... my birthday

I have... mommy's Barbies

I wish... every day was Sunday School

I know... I'm bigger than Mandy

I hate... not doing it myself

I fear... nothing

I hear... Mommy typing on the computer

I crave... candy from Grace's party

I search... not very well

I always... go to bed at 8 o'clock

I usually... remember to go potty

I am not... 4 yet

I miss... Dad

I love... Dad

I never... remember to wash my hands

I rarely... sleep in

I cry... when I don't get my way

I lose... lots of things

I am confused... about lots of things

I should... obey

I worry... about the car running out of gas

I dream... about Jesus Read More.. Read More..

I am...

I am... tall

I want... a kitchen that cleans itself

I have... 2 wonderful girls

I wish... I was more outgoing

I know... my husband loves me

I hate... mold

I fear... not

I hear... Elmer's glue being squirted liberally onto a paper plate

I crave... a cup of tea

I search... for Mandy's missing Robee

I always... have something that needs to be done

I usually... remember to pray

I am not... organized

I miss... sleeping in

I love... my life

I never... want to disappoint God

I rarely... have trouble falling asleep

I cry... when Emma's bike was stolen

I lose... my sanity when everyone is whining and the house is a disaster

I am confused... about Revelation

I should... clean the kitchen

I worry... about what's for lunch

I dream... about my children arising and calling me blessed

I tag... Amanda and Janelle Read More.. Read More..

100 straws on my kitchen floor

reality is....

100 straws for $1 was probably not that good of a deal after all.

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Happy birthday to Emma, happy birthday to you....

It is not Emma's birthday today, although I hear a lot about her birthday lately.  Ever since Mandy's birthday last month, Emma has been obsessed with her own pending celebrations on November 9th. She's had plenty of birthdays in between to remind her how much she wants her own.  

You see, from September to December we have a corridor of birthdays of Emma's family and friends:

• Mommy
• Josh, cousin
• Benton, cousin
• Nora, friend
• Paul, uncle
• Grace, friend
• Priscilla, cousin
• Daddy
• Kelly, aunt

These are just the birthdays between Mandy and Emma. There are more after her birthday in November and December. It is quite the corridor for us. At each celebration, Emma gains new ideas about what she wants. She talks about her wish list all the time and every store we enter is full of possible birthday gifts that she wants. Here is a sampling:

• Barbies
• horses like aunt Juli
• princess pj's
• princess belt
• All the kid stuff from the Avon catalog including High School Musical slippers and bedding.
• dancing dress
• shoes that light up
• shoes for Sunday School
• shoes for working
• pretties for her hair
• drawing things
• paint
• motorized John Deere mule
• cow girl boots
• princess movies
• candy
• play kitchen

Emma has so many nice things already, I try and try to remind her of the toys she already has and the lovely clothes she already owns, but nothing sways her from dreaming/coveting nice new stuff. Her birthday will come and go and then it will be Christmas and she'll get more new great stuff that will get old before we know it. Any idea about how to teach a child to appreciate what she already has instead of wanting new and better? I still have this problem, so I feel pretty ill-equipped to teach her the principle. 

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Mandy Walks

I was watching Mandy crawl around when we were on vacation on Wednesday and I was thinking, "When is this child ever going to walk?" She took her first steps 6 weeks ago and had not taken more than 2 steps since. She seemed to have zero interest in walking. We were in the sports center's gym playing basket ball, Jeff and Emma and I were on one side of the gym while Mandy rolled around a ball on the far side. Then, before our eyes, she pushed herself to standing and started walking across the gym floor. She walked about 15 feet confidently before falling. Since then, she's been walking more and more and I finally caught a few steps on camera. 

Now you can tilt your head to the side and watch this clip. I can never remember that the camera tilts, but the view just goes sideways. Please don't tell anyone I claim to be a photographer.

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The right way to cut someone off:

I was editing some pictures today. Usually I am in full control of my camera, but this roll of film (I don't use film anymore, but that just slipped out like it was 1995) had some pictures taken by others on the trip. I noticed that I tend to frame the photo as I go, while others take a picture, I am sure, intending to frame/crop it later. Okay, the other photographers probably did not intend to crop anything, but it got me thinking that perhaps I should share some guidelines for framing a shot.

The following photo is of my sister and her husband. I took this photo of them standing. I left even space around them, top, bottom, and both sides.

For a closer photo, I could crop the photo like this:

(keep hands in the picture unless you are photographing an amputee)

When cropping the photo later, or framing the scene as you are taking it, there are some rules to follow. I didn't make up the rules, but I still like them. You can cut people off to make a closer shot, but stick with the major joints in the body like elbows, hips and sometimes knees. Like "y" is sometimes a vowel, cutting someone off at the knees should be used sparingly, but is far preferable than the dreaded "ankles up" shot  (I made up that term).

This is an example of cutting someone off at the elbow. Shrink the space at the top of the photo as well to keep proportions. Include the person's or people's jewelry in the photo and a woman's entire chest. Even if it saggin', which is not occurring with my sister, you can cut the shot below the elbows to get it in.

Ankles Up

(We lost our feet in a terrible rock climbing accident)

Taking pictures of a whole person includes their feet. I see missing feet all the time in people's pictures and it drives me kinda crazy. 

I hope this is helpful and we can all keep our feet and hands inside the photo from now on.

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Back home

I've been busy. And I've been sick. And I've been on vacation. Not necessarily all at the same time, but close. Late last week I was about to make a badge of bragging rights stating, "I survived the horrible flu that my family had without getting it myself." My week was beyond busy with photography sessions and other stuff. Then I woke up Friday morning with the sickness, I had succumbed. I couldn't even get out of bed. I will spare you the details, but it was awful and I have no badge of honor. Even my invincible husband got this nasty bug. The weekend was full of recovery and we missed a lot of extended family that was visiting for my great uncle's 80th birthday party. I know I've said it before, but I really miss being able to recover from an illness by relaxing, watching movies, taking naps, and reading books, all while sprawled out on the couch. It just isn't possible with little ones. The girls took their turns being sick earlier in the week and were peppy and far from compassionate when their parents were down. This is life.

My parents arrived like the blessed calvary on Saturday afternoon and helped with the kids, the mountain of laundry, and a very messy house. 

Monday we were back to 95% and I joined the ladies in the family for Tea at Deep Wood. It was really special to have the mansion all to ourselves and be served in such a lovely atmosphere. We took a tour of the house and it was really neat inside. We took a picture on the porch of all of us.

(Me, Katie, Mom, Bobbi, Andrea, Aunt LaNea, Grandma, Aunt Peggy, and Lisa)

I looked around for someone to take our picture, but couldn't find anyone. I took a picture of the group and then my cousin, Lisa, came and took another picture of the group with me in it. I spliced the 2 pictures together with Photoshop and here is all of us in the same picture. A tri-pod would have been easier, but I didn't have my new one with me.

My wonderful husband and girls met me in Salem and we headed straight for Eagle Crest for a vacation with my parents and sister's family. It has been a couple years and a couple kids since we attempted that kind of thing, but it was so much fun. We had a hot tub on the deck of our cabin, plenty of good food and perfect weather. We even attempted a family photo. Pictures to come (I had the tri-pod for that one and only had to jump a creek while the timer was running). All in all, we had a really great time and enjoyed being together.

The kids with Grandpa Tom

Stay tuned to find out if any of these family pictures turned out...

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Me from A to Z

A. Attached or Single? Attached

B. Best Friend? my husband

C. Cake or pie? cheesecake

D. Day of choice? Sunday

E. Essential item? diaper wipes

F. Favorite color? right now, dark red

G. Gummy bears or worms? worms

H. Home town? Dallas

I. Favorite indulgence? exotic vacations

J. January or July? January for seeing my husband, July for the weather

K. Kids? 2. Just 2. Although there is a  rumor going around the family that I am pregnant because I left a wedding feeling ill. If I am, my husband has the same thing. Seriously, we have the flu. Dredded aweful sickness. I would rather be pregnant.

L. Life isn’t complete without? a relationship with Jesus Christ

M. Marriage date? 3/22/02 

N. Number of brothers and sisters? 1 sister and Elizabeth, our imaginary little sister

 
O. Oranges or Apples? California oranges

P. Phobias? can't think of any

Q. Quotes? "A mother is, whether she know it or not, the greatest most lasting teacher her children every have." Hannah Whitall Smith

R. Reasons to smile? The sun is shining and my head doesn't hurt for the first time in 3 days. Friendly reminder: GO GET YOUR FLU SHOT.

S. Season of choice? Fall, pumpkin pie, please.

T. Tag 2 people: Hillary and Sarah

U. Unknown fact about me? I pierced my navel once, took it out, and then did it again a few years later. The first time I took it out was to abide by my school's conduct rules (for all those times I was showing it off belly dancing during the long Saskatchewan winters) and the second time I took it out because I was pregnant and was terrified of it ripping out when my belly got big. There you go. Now I have a phobia: terrified of ripping navel ring.

V. Vegetable? with cheese please.  

*That did not segue well from ripping navel ring. Sorry about that.

W. Worst habit? Not allowing enough time to get out of the house in a peaceable manor

X. X-ray or Ultrasound? Ulrasounds of my little ones.... just the 2 litte ones. Seriously.

Y. Your favorite food? I can't think of any one thing in particular. I really, really love food. Maybe Fish and Chips. Okay, I'll stick with that.

Z. Which zoo animal is your favorite? Monkeys

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I had 2 senior portrait sessions back to back. I am done working on the pictures now. Seniors are such fun. They just want to look beautiful, unlike little kids who don't care. I enjoy a willing subject now and then.

I took the link on my photography blog to my personal blog off. After that bit about butt cracks, I thought I may seem a bit unprofessional. And then there are the pictures of my children with underwear on their heads. Prospective clients don't need to see the real me.... bwahaha!

I've done 5 senior portraits now and believe it or not, all the mothers of these girls have said the same thing, "They grow up so fast!" It must be true.

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Have I ever shown you my stairs?

I painted them and stenciled them back when I was first married, did not have a job, and this fallen down house was my artist's pallet. That first summer I was faced with long, long days. The only talent I posed at the time was painting. Not really artistic painting, but I could paint a room, or a plaid wall, or a floor, or stairs.

You aren't looking at the stairs anymore. You are looking at the baby. I know you, but I will continue on about the stairs.

My original plan was to carpet the floors upstairs. They are covered with wood, but they were terribly marred with water spots and deep scrapes. "We" -- I always use that term to mean my strong and talented husband did the work and I watched -- sanded down the oak on the main level of the house and they look beautiful. Upstairs though, has a soft wood and were too damaged to tackle in the initial work "we" did before moving in. On one of my long days as a new farmer's wife, I painted the whole upstairs dark blue. I liked the effect, although my husband still does not. We've learned a lot about communication about home projects over the years and now carpeting the upstairs sounds like a much better idea to him.

When I think back to those days of boredom, I shake my head at what I thought was hard work. I was really unmotivated and it took me probably 3 weeks to finish the stairs. And not because I had other important things to do. But because I had to watch Oprah and Dr. Phil. and Judge Judy and Friends reruns and Entertainment Tonight and then I had to think of something to eat for dinner.

We still don't have carpet and the paint I so slowly applied is now scuffed off in spots. I always know when the girls are going upstairs (which they are not supposed to do by themselves) because I hear the pitter-patter of their little feet on the hard surface -- they would be in stealth mode on carpet. Mandy's hands slap each step as she climbs upward. And I love it. I may not have time for stenciling projects or my daily line-up of ridiculously unedifying television shows, but I do enjoy looking at my stairs.

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Where is paradise?

When I woke up this morning, I had a thought for a blog post. I wanted to write about why I chose the word "paradise" to describe our family/blog/life. We don't live anywhere exotic and  we can't grow tropical fruit. I wanted to explain that paradise for me is not a place, but an attitude. Paradise is like joy and joy is from the Lord. Each day we have choices to make about reactions to life and I want my first thought to be about how blessed I am. I do live in paradise if I choose to look at it that way.

(Emma's outfit #1 for the day)

So, a lot has happened since my first thoughts about my joy-filled blog post. Mandy has made quite the fuss about sleeping in her crib since her recent sickness. I guess I would have some issues after waking up in my own vomit as many times as Mandy did when she was sick with the flu. Still, she needs her rest and she cried all morning. In the meantime, I was trying to figure out how to import 111 email addresses onto my new computers to send out a group email for Janice. I've been procrastinating the project ever since I got my new computer in the spring. I was trying to figure it out and Emma was being a PAIN in the cazzoo. She was whiny, disobedient, and loud. I took a time out and played with her. I punished her and talked to her. I punished some more. I gave her some cheese for a snack. Nothing was going well and the "paradise mommy" was nowhere to be found.

I was also doing laundry, getting more and more frustrated at the crying baby, whining child, messy house, and I had a head-ache that would not quit. I actually went outside in my stocking feet in the rain to calm down. Paradise my @#$#*($&(*#$&@! is what I was thinking. How could I start out so content with my blessed life only to find myself ready to run away just a few short hours later?

After a few deep breaths and a prayer to God for peace and patience, I returned to the mayhem. Instead of worrying about the laundry, I got out my camera. Mandy never did take a morning nap. And I discovered Emma had a fever. She admitted that she didn't feel good, so she probably has the flu Mandy had over the weekend. Life in perspective is a little easier to deal with.

Some days we just want to throw a clean pair of underwear over our heads and hide.

With a clean pair of underwear on my head, life doesn't seem quite so serious. And the sun will come out sometime soon. Literally or figuratively.

We escaped when the rained paused for a short while. Emma got her bike and road up and down the driveway giving a tutorial to Mandy who wasn't listening. She said, "Now Mandy, when you get bigger and your legs are not oottie (little), you can go on a bike like me. Now watch Mandy. Mandy, watch me. See how I can go fast? You are too oottie to go fast."

Mandy enjoys the walker toy a lot. She walks easily with help, but still doesn't have any interest in going solo. It's been over a month since she took her first unassisted steps. I have not given up hope that someday soon she'll discover how cool walking is on her own.

I have no brilliant advice for moms out there who struggle trying to live in paradise. Well, maybe I would advise putting a clean pair of underwear on your head, taking a deep breath, and praying to God. That will help. Some days are harder than others. Sometimes we want to scream and we do. All I know is that I keep grasping at paradise and I can find it when look close enough.

I got the email addresses imported. Yay! I got the laundry folded and put away. Yay! The girls are down for their naps and I again remember that paradise is a choice.

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A video to watch

On August 19th 2007, an oil tanker off the coast of Australia split in two, dumping 20,000 tons of crude oil.  

Senator Collins, a member of the Australian Parliament, appeared on a TV news program to reassure the Australian public.

This actual interview is so funny, you'd swear it was a 'Saturday Night Live' skit.

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I am thankful for my washing machine. I often take it for granted and then I think about all the work it does for me and I am overwhelmed with gratitude. My sister-in-law lived without her washing machine for 2 weeks. Oh, heavens, that would be horrible. On Saturday alone, my good machine washed the entire contents of the baby's crib 3 times, the big rug on the floor, a pile of stuffed animals, and quite a few changes of clothes on the heavy cycles with a 15 minute soak, 1 big scoop full of Arm and Hammer detergent, 1 cup of vinegar to take out the smell of vomit, and a generous pour of Downy fabric softener to make it all smell good again. Then, the delicate cycle on the machine nicely handled my new wool sweater that the baby also vomited on. Having a sick baby is really not fun, but having a great appliance that works over-time without grumbling and complaining is a blessing.

I am also thankful for my husband who is such a good dad to his girls though sickness and health and the middle of the night. Although he wasn't around on Saturday to help with the sick baby, he got up in the middle of the night last night without me asking him. He heard the baby cry and I stayed snuggled in bed. When I heard the bath water start and my husband's gentle voice calming Mandy, I got up to help with the inevitable mess he discovered in the baby's room. Like a well oiled vomit cleaning machine, we took care of the tired, sick baby, and cleaned and wiped down the soiled room at 2 am.

On my way to my nephew's birthday party I had another reason to be thankful. The car in front of me spun out of control and hit the guard railing, spun around and almost hit my vehicle as it headed back toward me. It stopped about 4 feet from me. I called 911 and I helped the 20-ish girl who stumbled from her car. She lay on the wet pavement as I tried to sooth her through her obvious shock and I was thankful. I was thankful that she was not hurt too badly and that help was on its way. I was also thankful for the safety I often take for granted when I drive to and fro through my normal day. Who knows why this girl crashed; she was going a bit fast and the pavement was slick, but it could have happen to anyone. It could have happened to me and my precious cargo, but it didn't. I have so much to be thankful for.

Mandy is doing somewhat better this evening. She is finally eating and acting perkier. She hasn't thrown-up since this morning when she got her unsuspecting daddy from head to toe. The poor guy. I think moms recover faster from such incidents. I am off to bed now. Thankful for many things. My washing machine is just one of the many.

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blogging

I think we all do it. We hop from place to place on this great expansive internet. I have no idea how it works. I just know that I can hop from one thing that looks interesting to another thing that looks interesting and suddenly I've spent the girls' entire nap time looking at stuff that was interesting. Today I was looking for articles to put in the MOPS newsletter. I started with an idea about I Corinthians 13, the love chapter in the Bible, and ended up on mommy blogs. 

This one article made me cry. I love this lady's style of writing and I will be back to her blog, thankful for the relative peace and quiet of my 2 children. This crazy place of blogging take us into the hearts and lives of a huge number of people. I learn from them and they learn from me, even though I won't ever meet them in real life. We share, not knowing really who cares or not (unless you leave a comment). I have friends who say, "I would never blog," like it is some kind of sin we bloggers have fallen in to. After one conversation about blogging, I evaluated my motives. Why do I blog? I started posting pictures and short stories in April of '05 after someone commented that I was emailing too many pictures of my baby. (In truth, I dressed her up as an outlaw and made up stories about her. I really needed to blog.) This friend didn't say how annoying I was in so many words, but I got the idea that people who don't have kids do not want to be bombarded with sweet stories and huge picture files in their email. Even people who have kids don't need to be bombarded. I started to blog so I could share my stories and pictures with whoever cared. My following used to be just my mom and one of the first of my blog friends, Annie. 

Quickly, the blogging trend had caught on and moms post pictures of their precious children and timeless stories all the time. I love the sharing. I also love comments because then I know you care. I've made some amazing friends because of this blog. Why do you stop by? What made you hop to this address? Who watches by blog and logs on in Lebanon (that one is really puzzling me). And if you have a blog, why do you do it? Just curious. Have a great day.

PS I found a great article for the MOPS newsletter, so I didn't waste my entire afternoon. I'll post it on the MOPS blog in a week or so.

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Dare to be a Daniel

Emma is really in to singing these days. She makes up lyrics all the time to familiar tunes. She begs for her kid music in the car and sings at the top of her lungs, usually singing the wrong words. She even taught Mandy how to beg for music. Mandy claps her hands, tilts her head back and forth and says, "Lalalala." More often than not, I sacrifice my own sanity for the relative peace of children's music in the car.

A few days ago we were in the car and the familiar children's tune, "Dare to be a Daniel" came on. I know I've listened to this tune about 4 gazzilion times, but for Emma, the words finally sunk in for the first time. She exclaimed, "Daniel! That's my other name." I pointed out that yes, Danielle is her middle name and she was named for her granddad whose name is Daniel. Since a 3-year-old milestone is for a child to be able to say her WHOLE name, I often quiz her, making her repeat her first, middle, and last name. I asked her to say her whole name for me. She said, with enthusiasm, "My name is Emmawe Danielle Obey." Apparently she hears, "Emmaleigh Danielle obey" more than her last name. I guess it can't hurt to have a commandment in your name.

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Straight out of the camera, or not...

Yesterday I took pictures of a little boy at a vineyard outside of town. His mom, Brooke, asked me to do the pictures after seeing my ad in the MOPS newsletter. She has taken his pictures in the past, but found that he would either not look at her at all or swat at the camera.  When I took his pictures, it completely changed the dynamics of a photography session. His mom was free to entertain him and get him to laugh and I could snap away on my super fast camera. I had a lot of fun and his mom got a lot of great pictures that she didn't have to cry and plead her little boy for. It is a win win.

I love Photoshop. I really do. It isn't that I don't think I take good pictures straight out of the camera, it is just I can always make them better with a little tweaking to the color. I can also take out unsightly things that distract from the composition of the picture. 

The fall colors and ripe fruit at the vineyard were so lovely. The view from the hills outside Monmouth is breathtaking. In the picture above, the colors are rather flat and doesn't do the real view justice. Is anyone else distracted by the power lines running in back? I was really distracted, so I took them out. I also popped the color by doing a whole bunch of things you don't care about with layers and screens.

Ah, much better. I am curious: Do you do anything with your pictures before you print/post them? What do you use, if anything. Or what program do you want to get to improve your pictures?

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Cracked Up

How low can you go should not refer to women's jeans, yet it often does. Through the mid 90's to the present, we have watched the waist bands of jeans plummet further and further. Advertisers attach winning phrases like "ultra low" and "low-low rise" to these pants that barely cover our behinds. The pants may have a lower rise, yet our bottoms have not shrunk to accommodate. We feel a sense of glee when we put on those oh, so trendy low rise jeans and we stand in front of the mirror, hip flung out to the side, just like the pasty white mannequin in the store front wearing 10 sizes smaller of the same pair of jeans. We may turn around and peer at our backside too see if it is covered and yes, it is! Boy, that 6 inch rise really makes my butt look small, we think. We just ignores the roll of extra tummy skin that sits like a muffin top above the waist band. We decide to wear a longer shirt with this nifty new pair of jeans and it will cover anything that may peek out in the unlikely event that we need to sit down or bend over.

Since the beginning of low rise jeans, we've told ourselves the same lies in the dressing room: I will never have to bend over in these jeans. I will sit only in chairs that have backs on them, so no one will ever see that my butt only fits in these jeans when I am in the upright position. We get home with the nifty new pair of jeans and wear them in real life, where pasty white mannequins have never been. In real life, bending, lunging, stooping, squatting, kneeling, and sitting occurs and we quickly realize the pants are not helpful. Instead of staying put, they reveal the butt that never really fit in the jeans and our cracks are on display. The first few times this happens, we feel the rush of wind on our backsides as the low rise waist band drags down underwear that can't stand the pressure. Oh, no! we think and reach back to discover in fact, 3 inches of butt crack is showing off to the world. Tugging up on the waist band, we quickly discover that it isn't budging. We then tug down on our shirt that was supposed to be covering everything in the unlikely event we needed to bend, lunge, stoop, squat, kneel, or sit in these jeans. Whatever event that caused the bending, lunging, stooping, squatting, kneeling, or sitting is quite necessary and we give up our useless tug of war and continue on. Let's just ignore the fact that we just showed our backside to everyone standing behind us. The embarrassing incident is quickly forgotten when we stand up and everything is tucked back where it belongs under the waist band of our ultra low rise jeans. This happens again and again as we live our real lives wearing low rise jeans until one day we stop caring. We no longer even reach behind to tug up on the jeans, down on the shirt. Oh, well, we think. It happens to everyone. It is the fashion.

It does happen to everyone, if we succumb to the fashion of wearing ultra low rise jeans. But I am truly tired of seeing women's butt cracks and we must stop this crisis. Visible butt cracks (VBCs) are everywhere and I think everyone has given up. Whether it is a woman bending over in the grocery store to get something from the bottom shelf, or a mom changing a diaper of a toddler on the floor, we see your butt crack. And we don't want too. One solution to the problem is a belt. It can help keep those jeans in place and not creep down, taking your precious, concealing underwear with them. A belt is great, but it doesn't do miracles. If the pants are too low, they are too low. The only real cure for this epidemic of VBCs is to not wear pants that you cannot move in. We are not size 1, pasty white mannequins in store windows who will never have to move. We lead real lives and we have to have jeans that conceal while we are bending, lunging, stooping, squatting, kneeling, sitting. When we try on jeans in the dressing room, we can't pose like the mannequins any more. We can't succumb to the lie that our shirts are long enough. We must bend, lunge, squat, kneel, and sit before we decide the jeans will be discrete enough to not show VBC to the world. If you can't tell in the dressing room mirror, find a kind woman in the mall and say, "Hello, nice to meet you. Can you see my butt crack in these jeans?" We shouldn't be embarrassed. After all, we were going to show it too them in any event if we had to bend, lunge, squat, kneel, or sit in front of them in our nifty new low rise jeans. Any woman should be thrilled to help you because it would mean one less VBC for the rest of us.

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