Good Reasons

Many of you don't even know my husband, Wes, personally. So please excuse what I am about to do. Which is solicit you for money on his behalf. :) Wes is in the home stretch of raising money for his AFI thesis film, called Firelight. And they have $3,500 to go. They have already received so many generous donations. And even the smallest amounts do not go unnoticed. All are very appreciated. Believe me. Every time they get a new donation, Wes's hope for humanity increases as he happily proclaims "We got another donation!!" from the back room. It really makes his heart sing to know people are supporting him and his project.

So I asked Wes for 10 Good Reasons to Dontate $10 (or more or less, depending). Here is what he told me, in no particular order:

• Your donation is fully tax deductible (you'll receive a letter from AFI).
• Get your very first screen credit. Woop!
• This film is actually being shot on 35mm film. In a digital world, it's important to preserve the future of film.
• Female protagonist. Rock on.
• Solid storytelling: Action. Danger. Suspense. Loyalty. Love. In short, everything you can ask for in a movie. ;) (Click HERE to read the synopsis—then click on Story.)
• This little ditty will be making its rounds at some film festivals. And without a decent budget, the production value won't be as high. We don't want to disappoint Robert Redford and all the Sundance guys, now do we?
• Self esteem boost knowing that you've tapped into your "I Support The Arts" side. Or Karma. Take your pick.
• Feed a crew member for a day.
• Supporting an AFI film means supporting the best film school in the world, and in turn the future of good cinema.
• You'll be helping Wes pursue his dream of becoming a Cinematographer. And he thanks you for it!

You can find more about Firelight HERE. You can click on "Donate" if you are interested. It also tells more about the specific ways in which your donation will be used.

NOTE: The film will be rated PG-13 for what I imagine will be strong thematic elements. I have read the current script (which is still undergoing edits). If you go to the site and click on "Story," you can also see why it might fall into the PG-13 category. It's basically the story of a young girl's fight for survival in the wilderness. There are scenes of suspense and danger. In one scene she gets injured. There is no nudity, sexuality, or bad language of any kind. There are some "monsters of the night" that will be glimpsed. And there definitely are characters you grow attached to, a family you find yourself rooting/fighting for, and examples of a girl being tested to her limits, while maintaining a sense of who she ultimately is. Essentially it's a story of hope. In under 30 minutes. :)

Bee Calm

We've got some fun posters over at The Blog Guidebook. Buzz on over if you're interested:
(click on the image to view the posters)

T-Rex in Sidewalk Chalk by Wes Johnson

Not my creation, but my inspiration

image credit HERE

What we did today

• Shared a ginormous croissant with ridiculous apple filling with a good friend.
• Used my Xacto knife and camera lots and lots.
• Then ran out of printer ink.
• Refereed kid fights.
• Then watched them get REALLY dirty in the front yard.
• Listened to Maya say Tinkerbell ("Dink-o-bao") repeatedly, all the live long day.
• Made lemon pepper chicken and balsamic glazed carrots for dinner, which I am still thinking about.
• Finally sat down at the end of the day. Whew!

 

 

A day at the gardens...the very WET gardens

 Finn decided to ditch his shoes, socks, and pants ASAP!
(Which the water police later put a stop to...the shoe part, at least.)

 

And Maya has absolutely NO QUALMS about being completely sopping wet.
 

Big kids showing Maya how it's done.

Fun times! (I just want to kiss that face.)

Amen!

I can't get over this article from the Washington Post. It's perfecton:

_______________________________________ 

TELL ME ABOUT IT
By Carolyn Hax
Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Carolyn:

Best friend has child. 
Her: exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc. 
Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? 
Her: Park, play group . . .

Okay. I've done Internet searches, I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them EVERY DAY. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events) and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy—not a bad thing at all—but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a peeing contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.

Tacoma, Wash.


"Internet Searches?" "Relax and enjoy?" You're funny.

Or you're lying about having friends with kids.

Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.

I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom-friends are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.

So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.

It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.

It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.

It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything—anguage, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.

It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends, or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand or keep your snit to yourself.

Write to Tell Me About It, Style, 1150 15th St. NW, Washington, D.C. 20071, ortellme@washpost.com. 

_______________________________________

Sunday Faces

Dear Wes,

I am absolutely up way past my bed time. I know this is not all that unusual for me. But still, I can't go to bed until I write you a little note to stick up on your mirror and admire. A note where I admire you. Here is the flat out truth. You work outrageously hard. You are truly immersed in your labor of love, and I love you for it. I think that over the last few years I have seen a truth come out of you that neither of us knew was in there. It's really special to be a part of that transformation. It's on par with my ability to produce our little minis. I really enjoyed your interview. I learned things about you. That's one of the best things about you. You are never boring. You feel comfortably new quite often—and that quality is quite rare. Even though you understandably don't have time to read this blog, I am sure someone will Facebook about it, and it'll eventually come around to you (kind of like the aforementioned interview I just learned about...tonight).

Love,



P.S. To the grandparents Johnson and Beauchamp: Don't let the interview scare you into thinking that we will steal off to Iceland in the night with your grandchildren, never to return. Wes said we'll only summer there. :)

P.P.S. Want to check out what is consuming mostly all of Wes's time? Check it out HERE. It's going to be amazing.The poster's not to shabby either. Kind of makes me wish it was in theaters:

P.P.S. The typos in Wes's interview aren't his doing. He's a stickler like that!

Greece: TAKE THREE

For "Take One" visit HERE.
For "Take Two" visit HERE.

I was so excited when I opened my e-mail this morning to see a note from my brother that the wedding photos were all up online! It's only taken me a couple of months to obtain these photos, but I have the evidence! Proof that I was in the wedding party, and not just hooked up to an IV (though that did happen on one of the days):


And by the honest-to-goodness grace of God, I was able to enjoy Greg and Katia's gorgeous wedding ceremony—one of the most beautiful I've ever attended (physically and spiritually speaking). I held it together for three whole hours and was able to be a part of everything. I am SO glad. Here we all are as a new family (Me, my Dad, Greg, Katia, and my Mom):

All of the groomsmen wore seersucker suits. It was fantastic. Especially because the one suit that I always picture Greg in is a seersucker suit. He graduated from college in a seersucker suit, all 6 feet something of him. And if I remember correctly, he even wore that same seersucker suit to a Halloween party, proffering a bucket of fried chicken (the Colonel Sanders, himself). But it was sweet to see all of his friends in the suits, like an homage to Greg. And the girls didn't look too shabby either, if I do say so myself. ;)

And they lived happily ever after.  The end. (Or is it just the beginning?)  
I was trying to see how cheesy I could get.  
Love you "Gratia!"

And just like that, she was a little girl.

On the 11th, Maya will be 18 months old. Three days ago I looked over to see her wiping her bangs out of her face, then tossing her head to shake them back. And just like that, she was a little girl. Tonight I found myself blog hopping, and landed on a sad story of a sweet family who lost their 18 month old girl. I didn't last long before closing my laptop and charging into Maya's room, checking to make sure she was alright. Which of course she was, and always is. But I scooped her up and rocked her in the rocking chair for half an hour, feeling her weight over my chest, her little spriggy hairdo tickling my nose.

Maya only weighs in at 20 pounds. In fact, that's the same weight she claimed at her 12 month appointment. That has her pediatrician a little concerned. Thinking about it, I realized in the last month Maya's been flitting around this house like a little pixie, while eating like a bird. She nibbles on a few bites, then tries to leave her high chair by way of parachute (or at least that's what she must think is going to happen when she wriggles out of the harness and stands straight up, ready to leap down to the ground). There's a lot of, "Wes, where's Maya?" and "Finn, is Maya safe?" and "Maya!!!! GET OUT OF THERE!!!!" going on around here. She's active. She's curious. She SPUNKY (as Wes aptly described her today). She's got some attitude in her arsenal, and she's not afraid to use it. Today I saw her walk right up to Finn, wind up, and smack him in the chest. Then she turned and giggled at me. She'll come up to me, open her mouth wide to show me something that she's not supposed to have in her mouth, then turn and hightail it out of there before I can catch her, laughing all the way. If I tell her "no," she just shakes her head right back at me, smiling with her dimply cheeks.

I've noticed she's getting a little tired of the boyish, and even gender-neutral toys in the toybox. She brings me tutus from her room, holding them up, asking me to put them on. She watches Tinker Bell with fascination, calling her "Bell Bell Bell." She stands in my closet looking lovingly at all my shoes. Then she flings them all on the floor as fast as she can, leaving the scene of the crime before I can catch her in the act (she's got a tattle-tale of a brother, that's for sure). She talks on her Ariel toy cell phone throughout the day, having babbling conversations. She loves the Cozy Coup car in our backyard, and holds the door shut with both tiny hands, so that Finn can't yank her out for his turn. The girl dances with arms up and hips swaying all over the room at music class. She gives open-mouthed kisses, and THROWS herself into your arms for hugs.

She's all mine, and I love her dearly. But I'm willing to share...

Welcome, September!