Super Noob [Search results for Shannon] 

As my daughter careens toward her third birthday I am plagued slightly troubled by thoughts of what is yet to come. See, she is already so wilfull and mischievous and smart, and...I think you get the point. What scares me most is how similar in personality she is to me. Now that I am a mother, I have a greater appreciation for my own, and all that she endured. One might think I was hellbent on driving her over the deep end. I'm not saying I was a bad teenager, and that I got myself into major trouble. Nope, I was mellowed out (mostly) by then. I am referring to my days as a three year old...not that I remember much of them, but I cringe at some of the recounted tales.

It's 1979 and we are living in Worcester, Massachusettes (my mom's home town). My parents decided to live there for a little while, at my mom's request, to be near her family. My mom is hugely pregnant with my brother, and in no mood for my shenanigans. So she sends me out front to play (I still can't believe there was ever a time when that was okay). After an unpsecified amount of time elapses, she looks out the window to check on me. No Shannon...I wasn't Mamma then ;). Having a brief moment of panic, she goes out front for further inspection. Strewn about the sidewalk are my clothes. With much effort, she bends to retreive my articles from the sidewalk, only to find they are wet...like super soaker style. Blood pressure rising, she looks to the right. Still no Shannon. Looks to the left and there is Shannon, running naked from the waste down. She hollars calls sweetly for me to get my little butt over to her. All sugar and innocence, I come to my mom. My mom rushes me inside to put on clean pants, chastizing me all the way about not peeing in my clothes. "Shannon, when you need to go potty, you don't go in your clothes!" "Okay, momma." I say sweetly. "Can I go back outside to play now?" Of course she lets me...like any mother, she was anxious for any precious moments of peace she could muster.

For the second time, I am outside playing, mom is inside. Time passes, and reluctantly she hefts herself up to check on me. Expecting to see me galavanting down the street with the other little boys and girls, she coems to the window and stares in silent horror at the scene layed out before her. Her daughter, to whom she had told just moments before "we don't go potty in our clothes" was not in fact going potty in her clothes. Nope. Her daughter was squatting on the sidewalk right in front of the house, taking a poop. Paralyzed, my mom doesn't know what to do. Clearly she has to retreive her demon spawn angelic child, and get her into the house. Yet the thought swimming in her head is one of the neighbors saying "I didn't know you had a dog" as she is stooped over scooping the poop. Fortunately for my mother, no one saw her when she did finally go out to clean my mess. In my defense...I did not go potty in my clothes.

If this story is not enough to have me running scared over what's to come, well I need not look any further than my mom's memory of me and my escapades for further horror material.

I recently put together a new website for my photography. I love it...mostly. However, there are a few things that don't sit 100% well with me. I can't quite pinpoint what they are, only that there is something...off.

It would be wonderful to have some feedback! Actually, I'd appreciate feedback both on my site, and my blog. What's great? What could be better?

My website is here: Shannon K. Photography and my blog is here Shannon K. Photography Blog.

After looking at each, maybe you could leave the feedback on the blog?? Thank you!

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These little flip flops were created to represent boy or girl. I also have a larger stamp of each for mommy and daddy :) I sketched out the flip flops, then my brother in law perfected them, and turned them into real artwork for me. I then had custom stamps created...so these babies are one of a kind!

My first attempt at a bracelet. I think it's super cute and so simple.

For my own dad I made this key chain. It's stamped in the center with the Gemini sign. The outer edge just describes him, and then I added some texture for a more roughed up look.

Who knew I’d love doing it so much? Who knew it would consume so much of my free (ha ha ha ha ha, she said free) time?

I have a site now too, if you want to see even more! Shannon Marie Creations

I’d love for you to come check it out.

My name is Shannon, and I am a blogaholic. Seriously. If this were recognized as a real addiction, I would have to say that I am afflicted. It is the most spectacular way to let go of whatever it is I've got going on in my head. It allows me to have some me time. I love that people actually read what I have to say, and more often than not, have interesting, funny, witty or just nice comments to leave.

Like any addiction, there are lows that follow the high. For me, the low is the serious blogetition. Not because there are so many blogs out there, or even that there are so many out there that cover the same array of topics. What I am referring to is this sort of desperate need for more more more more more. Followers that is. Oh, and to be very clear, I have this same need. You see, having followers is like the ultimate validation. People actually want to read what I have to say. What a strangely awesome feeling. Wait...I was supposed to be describing the low here. Low comes when that number (you know which number I mean) doesn't change despite any and all efforts to the contrary.

In times of the low, I find that I read posts on blogs I love, and think to myself "ah...I completely get that!" Then..."now why didn't I think to write about that?" Then comes the inevitable blogger's block. Blogger's block for me is paralysis by analysis. Too much time spent thinking about what others might like to read rather than what I want to write. Thinking about how I could make something funny, when really it's just not. Too much time worrying about my tendency to be introspective. Well, not tonight.

No more pandering. (Here is where I should slip in a little note about the fact that none of the posts thus far that have made it up onto my blog have been of the pandering variety). No, that only happens in my head.

While I may be broody or moody or at times even downright melancholy in my introspection (sorta like here), it is me. It's how I occasionally feel inspired to write. It's how I feel authentic, and let me tell you this...I would take authenticity over originality any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

Drew is smart. He's funny. He's charming, and a major talker. Drew also has the last minute syndrome. Okay, I may be making the up the affliction, but I bet you know someone you'd diagnose with this as well. If so, then you are no stranger to the feelings of frustration induced by this particular trait.

My down time happens when my children go to bed for the night and my workout is done. Unless Drew strikes...which he does...often. It's 7:30, the two youngest have been in bed for 30 minutes, and I am about to go do my workout. Drew strikes. "Shannon, I forgot. I need you to check my math homework, or quiz me for my spelling test, or proofread my peom (choose any of them)." I stare blankly at him, trying to reign in my fuming temper. "Drew, why do you wait until the last minute?" (Though I don't know why I ask this, because the answer just makes me angrier...it's the same every time). "I don't know." No longer can I look forward to a little relaxation after the workout...now I have homework to do.

It's Wednesday, and I have gone to the grocery store earlier in the day while Drew is at school. I have dinners planned out for the next several days. Things are looking good. Drew comes home from school and begins his ritual of telling me about his day. With feined interest (don't think me miserable, I can only be actually interested the first 100 times I hear the same story) I listen as he tells me how he scored the winning touchdown in flag football or how so and so told him his breath stinks (hmm, maybe I'm on to something with the whole teeth brushing thing, ya think?). Then...Drew strikes. He tells me he needs Valentine's cards for class. I tell him I will get them when I can. He informs me he needs them for tomorrow. Somehow I fail to see why this should be yet another emergency on my part. Somewhere along the way, I swear, our kids are supposed to get wise to the fact that waiting until the last minute never has a good outcome. "Well," I say "if I can get to the store I will get them for you." That is not an acceptable answer for Drew. He says "If I don't bring them, I can't participate in the party, and I have to sit and do homework while the others are passing out their cards." Nice try, buddy. Somehow I don't think it would fly for the teacher to punish any student who couldn't bring cards. I have already decided that I will get the flippin' cards, yet I don't let him know that. I want him to sweat a little. Call me sadistic, I won't be offended.

I end by telling him that maybe next time he will not wait until the last minute to let me know something is needed. That sitting in class doing homework while the others are getting a sugar buzz will be a good lesson. He says he won't wait next time. We both know that's just a pipe dream. I sure wish I had a person willing to drop everything to pick up my slack when I drop the ball. I think I need a wife.

Note- I have to say, for fear of being lashed, that my husband actually picked up the cards on his way home from work...but somehow, that detracts from the snarkiness of my wife comment, so I omitted it from the post ;)

Why me, of course! So... my actual name is Shannon. I wasn't really trying to be incognito. I've already shared all the names of the rest of my family. Why not mine too? Born in San Diego, I didn't live there long. When I was still just a babe, my parents and I moved to Arizona (my dad's home). My parents were actually in the military when they met, got married and had me. Shortly after I was born, they moved here. Wow! Am I really starting that far back? Me thinks not.

In between then and now, I have gone to and graduated from the Uof A, lived in Ireland (only for about 6 weeks), worked in corporate America (where I was wildly successful in sales I might add), bought my first house, got married, sold my house and bought another (with my husband), had my daughter (who was conceived in the UK), sold and bought another house, had my son (who was conceived nowhere exciting) and here we are...living in the inferno that is the Arizona Desert.

A woman of many interests, I love taking pictures but don't call myself a photographer. I work out habitually, yet I habitually lack the desire. Books are like water to me, without them I wouldn't survive. Outgoing by nature, I can be a bit forward and often (so I am told) abrasive. I have a loud laugh that always starts with an old man wheeze when I think something is truly funny. Taking things at face value is a problem for me, I am always looking for deeper meaning...you could say I am a bit of an over analyzer. Though I like to think I don't worry unnecessarily, since having children I have come to realize I do. No matter how I try otherwise.

At the heart of me is my family. I love these people that live with me more than any blog post would ever do justice. My brother is one of my very truest, most loyal and closest friends...I love him so. I am blessed to have a wonderful relationship with my mom...it is to her that I credit my wackiness...she has been my comfort when I have needed it most and my laughter when nothing else would do. And I am a daddy's girl. I find today that I still look to him for guidance and direction. Just as I am certain I will always be his little girl, at the risk of sounding cliche, he will always be my hero.

As a mother I strive, together with my husband, to raise our children in such a way that they reach their full potential...teaching them to love deeply, believe strongly, respect fully, and befriend faithfully. Showing them how to love the fair weather days and hoping that we have equipped them with the skills to ride out the storms.

What's to come remains to be seen. So happy to have you along for the ride.

Looking back through some older posts I realized how much I used to love blogging here. I mean LOVE it. It's such a great way to preserve memories...stories of my kids, crazy things that happen in my life, or just how I am feeling on a particular day.

After asking myself what happened, it's simply this...I don't want the job. Nor do I want the guilt that comes when I don't do the job. What job? The completely time consuming job of responding to comments simply from a place of feeling obligated.

Light bulb moment. I can still have my blog. I can post pictures, tell stories, ramble...whatever, and I can do it privately! So, my blog is private now, and if you're reading this...you're among the very few who have been invited to continue along with me here. No, I don't think I'm so special that you should feel part of some elitist club. Just letting you know that there are a handful of people I actually enjoy keeping in touch with here!

So...onward we go. Or I go. Either way, I'm good with this.

Shannon

…maybe. Trying anyway. However, every time I try to list out my goals, and where I see this thing going, I end up in a state of disarray. I’m finding quickly that maybe there is no formula. No playbook. There is only do or do not. Yes, call me Yoda. In this case, that little green weirdo is right on.

I will only get where I want to be by taking that first step. Walk. Stumble and trip along the way. Recognize that the journey is as equally important as the destination. Struggle so that I can dig deep to persevere. Shove aside that little voice inside that is crying out for someone to take my hand and show me the way. Someone to impart all their vast knowledge so that I, like them, may be brilliant too.

Most of all I am digging deep to have the faith that I will persevere. I will make it. I will one day be standing at the pinnacle, looking back at the path I paved in order to be there. Faith.
-Shannon

Lately I have been doing a lot of absent minded answering. "Mom, we're playing time out." As the two little ones scoot chairs across my kitchen floor, screeching and scraping as they go. "Hmmm. Ok." I respond as my mind is focused on whatever nonsense has flitted into my head.

"Mom, can I have a cookie?" Me: "In a second." Them: "You said yes?" Me: "Yes, what? Oh! No! Lunch is coming in just a minute."

"Mom, Colton is playing chicken in the street with the cars." Me: "That's nice...is he having fun?" Okay, so the last one is an extreme exaggeration. Er, or it's at least an exaggeration.

"Honey, we have to move to Tanzania for my job." Me: "Oh that sounds wonderful." Again, exaggerating, but I believe this conjures an image which is at least close to the truth.

Big sigh. Fortunately, my children are persistent, so they don't relent until I actually answer them, and my husband knows when I've really heard him and when I have not...so we won't be moving to Tanzania anytime soon, and my children will not be playing in traffic.

Shannon
P.S. That's my name...for those of you who only have been acquainted with the Mamma side of me.

I have been remiss. It has been at least a couple of weeks since I have participated in Five Question Friday with Mama M. Not very cool of me. Afterall, I would hope that if I ever started a meme that people would play along. Hint hint at (maybe) something to come.

1. Do you sing karaoke? If so, what is your go to song?
I used to love karaoke. This was before my mommy hood days. When I could drink a six pack of beer for courage first. Not so much anymore. However...wanna see me shame myself with some vocal un stylings? Then go see this post.

2. What is your favorite coffee drink?
Actually, I do like a good flavored latte. Like caramel. Usually, though, I just drink flavored coffee at home with a little creamer.

3. If you could choose your own name, what would it be?
I actually find it impossible to come up with anything that just doesn't seem odd. Can't imagine anything other than Shannon.

4. Were you ever bullied?
In sixth grade...yes...by a BOY! The little bastard. That is, until one day I punched him and he cried...all the while complaining that I hurt his sunburn. Pft...yeah right weenie. Never bothered me again.

5. How often do you eat fast food?
Could I have a definition of fast food please? I never eat anything like McDonald's, etc. I do eat Chipoltle on occassion, and have been known to have the odd Subway. So if that counts, then maybe once every other week I guess.

How about you? Would love to see your answers. If you have done your own 5QF post, then let me know so I can come check it out. If not, what's wrong with you? Really, if you just don't want to, then how about some answers right here in the comments.

We went up to spend Easter with my family in Phoenix this year. I just love being around lots of family for any holiday. It's what make it so special for me. Fortunately I have a husband who is willing to go along with my whims :)

Here are some of my favorite photos from the day...

Playing in Grandma Rosie's and Big Papa's (great grandparents) backyard. This yard is a kid's paradise!

A little hunting, of course...not to mention, far more candy than they will ever eat. Seriously, we still had Easter candy from last year!

Colton and Munashe with the bubbles. Colton always looks forward to seeing his cousin.

Look at that her make the connection! That's my girl!!
We'll see you next year, Easter Bunny!
Shannon

...I'm convinced it's just another stop along the road in the ever unwavering battle we face as moms. Okay, and some dads too. But mostly moms.

Colton is 2 years and 8 months old. He is not potty trained...not even close. To his credit I have not given it much effort. I have been waiting for him to show me signs that he is ready. Sigh. I may be waiting until he is 18 at this rate. He'll go pee when I sit him on the toilet, but has yet to poop there. That he'll do indiscriminatingly most anywhere else. Like last night. In the tub. Of course, I can laugh right out loud about that one since it was daddy who was doing bath time.

Side story about the bath last night. Near the end of bath time, and well after the pooping incident, Addyson was calling Colton Lava Girl. Why? Beyond me. Then, she said something totally unexpected and completely hilarious. It went a bit like this "He's Lava Girl. Colton is Lava Girl. Hey! He's Lava Girl, and that was lava coming out of his butt!" I lost it.

Now, onto Addyson and the potty training thing. She was EASY, and I mean really easy to teach to go on the potty. She was daytime trained by 26 months of age. However, she still required a diaper at night. Now, at 4 years and 2 months, she still wears a diaper at night, and every morning it's wet. I asked her pediatrician if it were possible to actually train her to wet the bed because subconsciously she knows there is a guard there. The answer was a resounding no. But I am wondering if that just isn't true. SO...last night we put her to bed without a diaper. I woke her two hours after she went to bed at 9pm, and she peed in the toilet. Then, she woke two hours after that at 11pm and peed again. During the night there was an accident at 3am, and she woke herself wet at 7 this morning.

I'm okay with that for now. It was night number one. I have no idea how long it's supposed to take, but I am hoping this is the right thing to do. I really don't want her to be school aged and requiring a pull up for bedtime. Sigh. Of course when I ask friends with potty trained kids, they don't have an answer. Their child stopped wetting at night when they trained during the day. Nice.

Onward we go. Trudging through the milestones. Relishing every moment. Pooped in tubs and all.

Shannon

Everyone says that Addyson looks just like me. She does look like me, but there is a lot of Andy in her face too.

Colton on the other hand...looks just like his mama.

These are some photos of me, Colton and my dad. The first is Colton, then me…about the same age. The last two, are my Dad then me, several months apart. (Oh, and that is my own mama holding me in the last one...so young...just 20 years old). I think there is a very strong resemblance down this line. I suppose this explains why everyone on my dad’s side tells me that Colton looks just like my dad.

I promise Andy had something to do with it!

Five Question Friday is hosted by Mama M. It's a fun little way to do a post and not have to think all much about it. Sometimes that is just what the doctor blogger ordered. When I read these questions this week I just had to participate. I like them. I like them a lot (in my best Jim Carey voice). Here's the deal, you copy the following questions into a post, answer them and link 'er up to Mama M. Easy.

The questions are:

1. Favorite gift you are GIVING this year?
2. How many parties are you attending between now and Christmas?
3. What is your favorite Christmas song?
4. Who was your favorite elementary school teacher and why?
5. If you had a choice to live in any other period of time (other than now) what era would you choose and why?

1. Favorite gift you are giving this year?
Okay, the problem with this is that I have done about 5% of my shopping. So I can't say yet what my favorite gift given will be. I keep hoping for an epiphany to hit so I can slam out my shopping. Hasn't happened.
2. How many parties are you attending between now and Christmas?
One. Watch out...party animal here. Really, my husband and I are hosting the holiday party for his sales team. So since I am hosting it, that has to count as like two, right?
3. What is your favorite Christmas song?
I have two. Without hesitation they are Feliz Navidad and Bruce Springsteen's version of Santa Claus is Comin' to Town. Feliz Navidad is fun and upbeat, and it reminds me of my brother. When he was in second grade his class did a dance to the song, and it was hilarious. As far as Bruce's version of the other song...I just love it. No story.
4. Who was your favorite elementary school teacher and why?
I can tell you right off who my least favorite was...but that wasn't the question. Favorite? Hmmm. I will have to say it was my 5th grade teacher Mr. Sayers. He was so old fashioned and pretty strict, but he would always say when he saw me "Shannon Marie, a sight to see." Thinking of it now, it seems a little strange, but then I ate it up.
5. If you had to choose to live in any other period of time (other than now) what era would you choose and why?
What era did Anne of Green Gables live in? Whatever that was...that's what I pick. I was in love with those books when I was younger. School so small it was in one room, traveling by horse and carriage, beautiful boys named Gil. Yep...gave me stars in the old peepers. So that is where I'd be.

Your turn. You can answer any or all of them right here in the comments, or get loco and do a post of your own and link up.