It Finally Happened!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Well, it finally happened! People warned me it would, but I didn’t believe it at first. Before I tell you what happened, I need to give you some background information.  Since the moment I have taken up photography, there are only three things I am really interested in photographing…Fudge, Vern, and my grandson, Archer.  Show me the Grand Canyon or Mount Rushmore and I might take a shot or two, but my heart is really not into it.  Usually, I review the shots on my computer and think to myself  “who is going to want to look at this shot?”  John takes shots of scenery all the time and all I can think is “why?”  If you have seen one tree, you have seen them all, but the same doesn’t hold true of my three favorite subjects. Short of shots of them going to the bathroom, I find almost everything else they do to be picture worthy.  However, if I am being totally honest, I will have to admit that I probably took a few shots of Vern lifting his leg to pee for the first time, but I think I only showed them to John as proof that our male dog was growing up.  Gosh, I hope I can stop myself when Archer starts to go on the potty.

Anyways, for years I have been snapping photos of my dogs and growing increasingly frustrated, as they seem to have figured out how to start turning the other way when the camera comes out.  Sometimes, I think they privately conspire to thwart me at every turn and so when Archer was born I knew I finally had a new subject.  A subject who would love his grandma so much that he would never think about being uncooperative. So far, I have been able to pose him on a fire truck, rocking horse, large alligator, dog couch, an antique pony and cart, galvanized tub, bathtub and more, and he smiles every single time for grandma and her camera.  It brings back those happy times of posing Fudge and Vern with various outfits, on different props, and those just plain “running at me” shots.  Back in the day when they ran to the camera instead of veering off before I could make the shot happen.  Back in the day when they sat on top of a picnic table and both looked at the camera, before Fudge figured out the session ended sooner if she looked the other way. Back when Vern sat in a tub or under ornaments hanging from a tree outside so I could make the magic happen.  The last time I brought a prop outside, Vern chased Fudge around the yard, with Fudge thinking my body was base, until I started to worry the only shot I would be taking was from the ground looking up.

 

We Skype Archer almost every night.  He is always happy to see us and likes my singing and I have been able to make him laugh just by saying something silly like, “tickle, tickle.”  Archer, along with Fudge and Vern, may be the only ones who encourage me to sing and seem to appreciate my voice.  Lots of times on Skype Archer will start the Itsy Bitsy Spider song by doing the first part with his fingers where the spider goes up the waterspout and that is my cue to take it away and belt the rest of the song out for his listening pleasure.  This is a far cry from Megan’s response to my voice.  I did one of those recordable books for Archer to read when we aren’t there and Megan said they had to hide it because she couldn’t stand listening to my voice anymore.  On the day I sang “Don’t you wish your grandma was hot like me,” to Archer and then turned to Megan and Doc and said, “look how happy my singing makes Archer,” all they said was, “he is laughing because he is thinking  ‘who do you think you are kidding, grandma?’” Hayley wears earplugs when we travel together and John actually puts a finger in whatever ear of his is closest to my mouth, which I take as my cue to scream in my loudest voice, “I’m sorry.  Am I being too loud?”

 

I long ago decided that no one was going to rain on my parade when I felt like singing and even Mr. Albers, my grade school choir director, was eventually compelled to let me sing in the choir.  In those days, to make the choir, we used to have to go up in front of the whole class and sing scales and even though I didn’t make the choir, I was ok with it, because it meant a little more time in the school day for study hall.  The kids not in the choir were kept together in a group whenever there was choir practice and although we were supposed to be studying, very few of us took that opportunity to increase our knowledge of any subject taught at our school and viewed it more as a goof off period.  Since goofing off was something I excelled at, I was mildly disappointed when Mr. Albers announced one day that he needed more sopranos for his choir.  Despite the fact that my high notes sometimes sounded like two cats mating on a spring night, I was told I was joining the choir as a soprano.  I never actually saw Mr. Albers put a finger in his ear when I sang, but since my mottos were “louder is better” and “I don’t need any feedback on pitch or tone since I know I can sing” I have to imagine that he secretly wished he could.  All my family said when I told them that someone in my life thought I was a soprano was, “are you sure he didn’t say you were a Bass?” and they left off the B.

 

My point to all this is dogs and young kids don’t judge and while Fudge and Vern never waver in their adoration of me, I think I saw a glimpse of my future with Archer the last time we were there.  Remember he is not yet two and can’t talk in full sentences, so I was pretty sure I had some time before he started cracking jokes at my expense and stopped looking at me like I was the greatest thing ever. I was still riding that high when “it” happened.

 

As I do when we Skype, I was singing, asking Archer what certain animals sound like, showing him Fudge and Vern for the camera until Megan asked me to stop because it winds her dogs up, and telling him a story about my day, when all of a sudden he signed “all done.”  Megan taught Archer a couple of signs when he was younger for better communication and he has all done, bye, and more down pat.  At first, I was sure I misunderstood and so I kept up my story telling and then he did it again.  No sooner would I start to speak and he would sign, “all done”.  Well, I told him outright that we weren’t done until grandma said we were done and he turned and walked away waving bye-bye.  WHAT?  I mean I am used to John hearing only a third of what I say and just the other day, I called Fudge over and over again for her to come and when she finally decided she was ready to come and I scolded her for being a naughty dog, she yawned.  In my book, that is the canine equivalent of the middle finger and cements the fact that in our house, recall means you just keep re-calling until one of the times your come command coincides with when they were already headed back your way. That way you can tell yourself that maybe they finally listened. 

 

I was so taken aback at my dismissal that I asked Megan what just happened and she said, “It appears he is done listening to your long story,” and whatever else she added was lost to me because she was laughing so hard. I would have been willing to overlook all that, but the last time we were there, I got my camera out and half of the time, he purposely turned around and looked the other way when I called his name. 

It seemed willful and purposeful, because on more than one occasion as I yelled, “Archer, look over here so grandma can take your picture!’ he waved bye-bye, smiled, and turned around. To further cement the fact that he has the Y chromosome for selective hearing, I tried a whole bag of tricks to get him to look my way, including yelling his name while wearing his expandable tunnel and nothing worked. 

I felt the same way when Fudge and Vern stopped responding to my harmonica.

 

I go back in a couple of weeks to babysit.  My camera and long stories are going with me.  I am hoping those couple of incidents were just some phase, because I am going to hate spending the week running after him yelling, “Unplug your ear, mister! Grandma is still talking!”

[Lonnie & Libby Lu]

There is "nothing" like a crazy, camera carrying Grandma!   This is adorable Laurie and believe me, they will all thank you one day for these precious photos!

[Lynda Kamrath]

Love reading your blogs.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Thanks, Joani!

[Joani, Skadi & Elli]

You are one extremely funny and talented lady!  Thanks for all the chuckles. Funny funny funny.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Deanna, Out of the mouths of babes :) "I want you to go"......LOL!! I am on my way to babysit for 10 days...wish me luck :)

Ricki, LOL...I think you may be right!

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

It's a good thing Archer has such a cute backside. I think we're all going to be seeing a lot of it in the near future.

[Deanna & Desi & Cori]

Desi's still too young to understand the whole camera thing. I'm sure he'll catch on soon, though. Kayla loves the camera - mostly so she can make the most artificial, strained smile, look anywhere but the camera, or strike some contorted pose.

And I understand how you felt when Archer signed "all done". Ty used to need at least three "kiss, hug, high five" goodbyes before I could get out the door. Now I almost have to beg for one round. The other day, I thought he was coming to me for a second round, but when I asked if he was back for another kiss, he said, " No, I want you to go". Some fake crying got me a hug and a kiss!!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

BG, LOL...I probably won't ever do that....probably :) I know...I told Megan I finally found something that makes me look slim. I wonder if I could wear it on the cruise!

[BG and Gavin]

When you post a picture of Archer answering the call of nature , I will have to draw the line!
P.S. The expandable tunnel is very slimming on you ;)

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Thanks, DJ!! I believe you have heard my singing, if not, I could call you :) LOL Everyone has my number.

Thanks, Lori. I am going to wear him down :)