I will never forget Angry Snow White.  Somewhere along the way she had snapped. Could it have been consuming one too many apples, making one too many unmade beds, serving one too many grumpy dwarves, or maybe it was taking one too many photos with tourists?  Seconds after this shot was taken, Snow took those scrubbing hands of hers and sent the girls flying forward with a shove and a sickly sweet high pitched, "Have a nice day!" They caught themselves from hitting the pavement and looked at me with large surprised and amused eyes. "Um... Mom? Snow White just pushed us!" We could have been angry, but we chose to laugh. At their young age, they were able to see the humor in the situation and know that sometimes even Snow White does not have a very nice day. At my older age, I could feel her pain from dieting on fruit, making those endless unmade beds, dealing with grumpy short people, and snapping a million photos. A girl has got to get her fun somewhere!

When the girls come home with the "bring in a photo" assignment, I'm toast. What the teachers don't realize is that I have thousands of photographs of the girls' childhood. Yesterday the photo request came on a particularly horrible day. My dad had a heart attack, and I couldn't keep the world from spinning or the tears from falling. I can't keep my babies from getting older. I can't keep my parents from getting older.  The tears made my screen blurry as I searched for the photo, and yet they made something else very clear to me. My passion for photography is driven by the fact that for one two hundred and fiftieth of a second, I CAN make the world stop. I stop the world so that I remember all of life's details. I remember pink tights, round tummies, giggles, stamps on hands, undies hanging out, and crooked eyebrows checking themselves out in the mirror. I know one day my daughter will understand my tears when she remembers this day.  Until then, I will continue to stop the world from spinning one photograph at a time.

   It was the night before camp and I was that tired mom, the one who runs around the house at midnight trying to gather everything the kids could possibly need to spend a week away from home. I logged on to the camp website to see if there was anything I had forgotten, and there "it" was staring me straight in the face.  Number one on the list of things to pack - "a great attitude".  It was the answer I had been trying to find. I knew something had been missing from our house, but couldn't quite put my finger on what it was until I saw that list. The girls must have accidentally left their "great attitude" at camp the year before, along with that bathing suit and sandal that I could no longer find. I needed to get it back and I needed to get it back quickly, so I decided the best thing for me to do would be to write a letter to plea my case.Dear "Great Attitude",  I am sorry to say I didn't know how good we had it when you were living with us. Please come home. Can it really be so fun there all alone at camp with the cobwebs and spiders? How about the lumpy mattress you have been sleeping on and the lack of air conditioning? If you come home, I promise to try not to embarrass you quite as much in the carpool lane by singing the wrong lyrics to songs that blare a little too loudly from the open windows of my car.  I also ...

Those who know me, know that I take my camera everywhere.  This shot took "taking my camera everywhere" to the limit...