Landon | Page 4 | Minivans Are Hot

Because they’re funny, that’s why

April 4, 2011 by Kelli

I heard a comment recently from someone who claimed to love reading “Mommy blogs” but hated when bloggers went on and on about their kids.

Um…I don’t think you like reading “Mommy Blogs” then. (Not a fan of the “Mommy Blog” term…couldja tell?) That’s like me saying I like fish but don’t like when it tastes fishy. Riiight. Let’s just call a spade a spade. I don’t like fish. Unless it’s thickly breaded and double dipped in a vat of oil then served with a side of ketchup.

That’s my kind of fish.

When I first heard this statement I found myself a little self conscious. I mean, I talk about my kids all the blasted time here. What if I’m boring people? Because let’s face it, I can say that I’m only blogging to keep a record of the cute and funny things they do until I’m blue in the face, but we all know I want you to like me.

And I want to remember the cute and funny things they do so I can look back ten years later and smile…and humiliate them. It’s a scrapbook that yields sweet revenge.

I’m only half way kidding.

So here it is: I am a blogger who happens to be a mom. Write what you know, correct? Well right now, I know Mom-ing. (I could have written I know Motherhood but turning “Mom” into a verb sounded like more fun.) So I’m going to write about Mom-ing, and all the other stuff that interests me that doesn’t involve my kids. Which isn’t a lot because I’m kind of in the trenches of this Mom thing.

So today I’m writing about my kids, because dang it my kids are funny. Maybe they’re only funny to me and their grandparents, but I don’t care. This post might seem a little fishy, but I’ll try and deep fry something for you another day, okay? Just indulge me, if you could be so kind. Tomorrow I’ll write about something more riveting…like my house. You’re on the edge of your seat – I just know it!

Lee left yesterday for a two week training in New Jersey. Before the kids and I headed off to church, he buckled everyone in and doled out last minutes hugs and kisses. He and Sloan managed to squeeze in an early round of basketball before we left. I’m sure the neighbors were thrilled.

As Lee leaned in to kiss Sloan, my tender hearted man-child teared up a bit. Lee smiled and touseled his hair and Sloan grinned, shaking his head.

“I’m not crying,” he said, all macho-like. “My eyes are just sweating.”

My eyes are sweating a bit as I type this. Happens to the best of us…

Sloan continued. “Hey Dad, will you get us a present when you go to New York?”

“Sure,” Lee said. I think his eyes were a little sweaty too. “What do you want me to get you?”

“A girlfriend,” Sloan replied without missing a beat. Aaaaand it comes back around. I guess he thought he’d see if his dad would indulge his apparent need for a girlfriend since I told him a couple of weeks ago that No, I would not get him a girlfriend for his eighth birthday. After sharing this I launched into a very sweet, deep and meaningful conversation with him about how God has already picked out and planned a wife for him someday and he doesn’t need to worry about dating right now.

Clearly my words had an impact.

Not to be outdone, Tia piped up from the backseat as we headed down the road to church. “Hey Mom? How old do I have to be to get mawwied?”

“Old enough to be able to say your ‘R’s,” I replied…

No, I didn’t. I actually told her it would be a long time and she didn’t need to start thinking about that now.

“Well, I fink I should be 29 when I get mawwied. Will I be a mom before I get mawwied?”

“Nope,” I said. “You gotta get married first to be a mom.” Yes, I know that’s not necessarily true, but she’s five and we’re keeping it simple. She doesn’t need an explanation on when and how one can or should become a mom.

Tia has actually popped out a couple of funny one-liner’s lately. I forgot how funny five year old’s can be. When we ate lunch one day in Florida, I handed Sloan a ham sandwich.

“Does that have Man Eyes on it?” Tia asked. She meant Mayonaise. And just like that, our family now has a new catch word. We will forever call Mayonaise “Man Eyes.”

And then there’s Landon – the family clown, the kid who’s always good for a laugh, the boy with expressive eyes and a personality that far outweighs his tiny little bird frame. He walks through the house daily singing the songs from High School Musical 3. He sings them completely wrong, but that’s what makes it so fun. My favorite goes like this:

I don’t know where to go, Whatsa right fing. I want my oh dwee so Battleforce Strange.

If you know what song I’m talking about, you know why that’s cute and funny. It also means that you, like me, know way too much about High School Musical 3.

It’s those little conversations that make me laugh out loud that give me reason to blog about my kids. Well, that and the humiliation thing.

I’m kidding…sort of.

Filed Under: Blogging, Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Motherhood, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: Blogging, HSM3, Kids, kids say the darndest things, Motherhood

On Earaches and Mary

March 14, 2011 by Kelli

On Friday night Landon asked to go to bed. This was after he asked to take a nap on Friday afternoon and he slept for two hours.

Not normal.

At 11:00 Friday Landon woke up crying. He was at the tail end of a cold so a little medicine, a kiss and a cup of water and everyone settled once again. Until…

One O’clock rolled around and we heard the desperate pleas of our little one. And he never went back to sleep.

“My eeaaaw huwts,” he cried all night, clutching at his left ear. We rocked and sang and he’d slowly drift to sleep only to jolt awake again with a cry. Back and forth we went between his room and our own room, Lee and I alternating trying to sleep and holding our hurting boy. We debated heading to the ER but knew it was an ear infection and decided to wait it out until morning.

At 5:30 we put in High School Musical and I dozed on the couch. By 9:00 we were in the pediatrician’s office where it was declared he had a nasty inner ear infection with a painful looking bulge and by 10:30 we were home with a little boy who looked like this.

Not only did he look exhausted, he also look abused due to an unfortunate run in with the corner of the iPad the night before that left him with a shiner. He was pitiful and in pain most of Saturday but by Sunday morning had perked up considerably thanks to numbing drops, antibiotics and twleve hours of solid sleep. We were on the mend, and we were happy.

When his ear began dripping blood on Sunday morning we began fast and furiously treating what we think may have been a slight perforation in his ear drum with both antibiotic ear drops and oral antibiotics as we are flying a week from tomorrow and we need his ear healed. So far the pediatrician has cleared us to fly and is confident that he will be fine by the time we leave. This is a good thing because if she said he wouldn’t be I was already planning the car trip.

Sunday afternoon I went to a practice for an Easter drama that a few of us are putting on on Easter Sunday. It’s a beautiful piece of work and I found myself very emotional at one point when the character of Christ speaks the word, “Mother?” This happens during the crucifixion scene.

And my heart broke a little as I pictured Mary watching her baby suffer. My heart crumbled just seeing Landon suffer through ear pain, but Mary watched her son beaten, bruised and hung. She watched the blood drain from the very hands that she held as a small child. She saw the flesh torn from the back of the boy she bathed as a boy.

She suffered.

As my children grow I’m realizing more and more that I will always and forever see the infant form of them. Sloan is developing a man-child look about him and yet I still see the expressive toddler who marveled at the moon. Tia’s face matures a little more each day and yet I still see the big-eyed infant who couldn’t wait to conquer the world.

Landon is right where I want him right now. He is today who I will never forget.

Mary felt the same way. I understand that more and more the longer I parent. She saw the man who hung on the cross, but did her mind flash to him toddling into her arms? It most surely did. Did she remember sloppy kisses and delighted laughter? I’m sure of it. As she stared at his arms stretched wide across the beams, did her own arms ache with the memory of the weight of her infant? Did she smell the stench of the stable and see the dark, round eyes of her firstborn nuzzled against her chest?

What kind of memories flooded her mind’s eye?

And as he suffered and died slowly, did she experience pain herself? What was swirling through her heart? It pains me to even think about it, as it pained me to watch my toddler clutch at his ear in pain.

When they hurt, we hurt.

And then, when she heard He was alive – what did she feel? What kind if disbelief and shock and fear and joy coursed through her veins? When she saw His resurrected body, did she still see the little boy she raised or was He different somehow? Did He give her an extra long hug and a kiss on the cheek, a balm to the wound she had suffered three days before?

I wonder about these things.

Mary was a mother.

I am a mother.

And so I ponder.

Filed Under: Easter, faith, Family, Holidays, Kids, Landon, Motherhood Tagged With: Christ, Crucifixion, Easter, Mary, Resurrection, thoughts

Bieber Fever – Post Update

February 16, 2011 by Kelli

Justin Bieber’s got nothin’ on this kid.

I’m thinking it’s time for a trim. Not a cut, mind you, because I love his shaggy little locks. But his haircut is quickly morphing into a mullet and we can’t have that, now can we?

I’m trying to figure out how I can get someone to give him a real Bieber haircut while still maintaining my (and his) dignity in the process.

Suggestions, anyone?

We had it cut today and, with a bit of shame, I asked for a Justin Bieber haircut. It looks cute. It’s really difficult for something to not look cute on this child…

Filed Under: Kids, Landon Tagged With: Bieber fever, Bieber haircut, His mom's crazy, Justin Bieber

Don’t get me wrong…

February 3, 2011 by Kelli

I love my kids. I love to be with them and I love to laugh with them and play with them and spend time with them.

But…

These flippin’ snow days are MAKING ME BATTY.

*deep breath*

I think the children are going to start eating one another.

Sloan cleaned this morning. He vacuumed and dusted, pulling dressers out and cleaning the floors behind him. This is awesome, obviously, but it’s also evidence of the fact that we’re all going a little crazy. A seven year old voluntarily scrubbing his room? Not normal!

Did you know that the average four year old asks 437 questions a day? So if I have a chatty three year old, stubborn five year old and headstrong seven year old all trapped under the same roof, using a model of mathematics called estimation, I can safely assume that I’m being asked 1,500 questions/day. I’m also being told roughly 523 times that he/she kicked me, pushed me, hit me, licked me, bit me, touched me, breathed on me. I’m being asked 47 times a day for a snack or a drink (they still expect to be fed!) and every ten minutes I’m asked if we can watch a movie, play Wii or play computer games.

It’s tempting not to say yes and let them do that all day long. But alas, I’ve found that when my children sit in front of the TV all day they turn into jittery, weepy zombies without the will to reason.

On the other hand…my kids are pretty dang funny and, despite being trapped, we have had some fun this week. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed it – it’s just that every day I enjoy it a little less. And so do they.

A few pictures of the happier times for your viewing enjoyment.

We’re not really sure who had a better birthday yesterday – Tia or Kit.

Seriously. Where did this kid come from? He’s yet to find a camera he didn’t love…

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: birthdays, Kids, mama's going crazy, Midwest blizzard, snow days, snowed in

Gems

January 25, 2011 by Kelli

“Hey Mom,” he pipes up from the back seat of our (smokin’ hot) minivan.

“Yep?” I reply.

“How old do you think I have to be to be a rock star?”

“Uuuummm…I don’t know. Maybe 25?”

His face falls. “Oh. I was hoping you would say 8.”

“Well, you can be a kid rock star if you want,” I say with a smile.

He thinks about it for a minute then responds, “Nah. I think I’ll just be a Jedi Knight.”

______________________________________________

We were driving up to the Holy Land Target and as I circle to find a parking lot, Sloan adjusts his hat. “I’m sensing that there will be girls in here that will want to look at me. My sensors tell me they’re going to like me.”

Oh good grief…

_____________________________________________________

A car drives by us one day and a teenager sits in the front seat talking on the phone. She sees us and politely waves her hand. As the car drives off Sloan says, “So. Hot.”

Whose kid is this anyway?!

___________________________________________________________

Glossary of terms:

ahmpit=armpit

wight=right

woody=really

yeth=yes

wike=like

fink=think

Landon walks in the room in a full out wail. “Tia punched me,” he cries. “Tia punched me in da ahmpit.”

Tia runs in with a look of defiance on her face. “No I didn’t!” she says with a stomp of her foot.

“Yeth, she did,” Landon wails.

“No! Wandon, I punched you in da chin. Jeez. Get it wight.”

_____________________________________________________

As Tia stomped around the house in a huff, I gently reminded her that 5 year olds don’t throw temper tantrums when they don’t get their way.

“Well…I’n not five yet. I’n still four so I guess dat’s good so I can still frow a temper tantrum.”

_________________________________________________________

“Mommy?”

“Yes.”

“When I drow up, tan I be a boy?”

“Nope. God made you a girl and you will always be a girl.”

“But I don’t wanna be a dirl.” Insert foot stomp here.

“Why?”

“Because. Boys det to do wots of fun stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Wike go potty standing up and eat fish and play baseball and be Jedi Knights.”

“Well, going potty standing up is not all that special and you can eat fish too, you just choose not to because you don’t like it. You also play baseball with daddy and the boys and if you want to be a Jedi Knight, I’m sure you could figure out how to do that. But think of all the special things about being a girl, like wearing dresses and fun tights and curling your hair…”

“Well, I would do dose fings if I was a boy, too…”

“No. You wouldn’t. Trust me on this one.”

______________________________________________________

“Mom? Tan I wear shorts?”

Landon walks out of his room when he is supposed to be sleeping wearing nothing but socks.

“No, babe. It’s 4 degrees out today. You need to wear pants.”

“No!” His chin starts to tremble. “I’n not going outside so pwease, wet me wear shorts.”

“Honey, I’m sorry, it’s just a little too cold.”

“Well…it’s not cold in Fworwida.”

“Okay, well when we live in Florida you can wear shorts in the winter but right now it’s too cold.”

A moment of silence.

“I tan wear shorts?”

I caved, he wore shorts the rest of the day.

__________________________________________________

In the grocery store, we walk down the cereal aisle when all of the sudden Landon breaks out in a rousing rendition of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” When he’s finished, I smile and clap softly.

“That was a good song.”

He sighs and grins. “Yeah. I’n woody dood at songs, wight?”

“Yep. You’re pretty good.”

“Yeah. I’n awesome.”

It appears he’s taking after his older brother.

_______________________________________________________

Last weekend was a particularly rough sleeping weekend for my I-dont-need-sleep-its-for-the-birds third born. Of course. Because daddy was out of town. At 2:30 one night after he had been up and down since 11:00, he walked in my room for the 15th time. I had yet to sleep and I was reaching the point of melt down.

I shot up and broke the silence of the night. “Landon, get your bottom back in your bed.”

He screamed and propelled himself into my bed where he huddled under the blankets for a minute. I felt bad and, strangely, satisfied…

“I’m sorry, buddy,” I whispered. “Mommy is really tired and I need you to go to sleep so I can sleep.”

A brief pause. “Mommy, I wove you and fink your beautiful.”

He finally went to sleep next to me in bed.

Stinker.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Motherhood, Random, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: kids say the darndest things

It’s better this way

January 19, 2011 by Kelli

Alternately titled: Why I locked my three year old in his room.

It was 8:00 and I had just returned home from a rehearsal when I went back to my bathroom to brush my teeth and change into my fat pants comfy clothes. It was then I heard the breathing. Like a miniature Darth Vadar was standing at my hip.

“Landon, get back in bed.”

“I’m firsty,” he whined. I gave him a sip of water and sent him to bed. Then I turned on the bath tub to try and warm myself up. When I turned around, he was there again, this time scaring the Bejeebus out of me. I yelped and karate chopped the air because For the love of all things Holy must children sneak up on you like that!

“Landon, go to bed,” I said, this time with more force. And you should know, it’s not easy to use such force with someone as cute as my third born. His tiny face is framed by a mop of Bieber hair and Sweet Mercy I just want to chomp on his cheeks every time I see him. He’s just yummy.

“Can I wear shorts?” he said, batting his little hypnotic eyes at me.

“Fine. Change, then go to bed.”

Off he went and I settled in the tub. Until I saw his eye peeking through the crack in the door.

“Landon, go to bed!”

He turned and shuffled off.

This routine went back and forth for almost an hour. And this was a good night – for Landon anyway. He caught me on an off night when I wasn’t ready for the fight. Generally these nights end up with a slew of tears from him and a few from me. But this night saw me unable to fight his antics.

The child will not stay in his bed.

To be fair, I let him take a longer nap than usual on this fateful day, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that he changed outfits no less than six times, and took close to an hour and a half to go to sleep.

I finally did what any self respecting mother would do. I closed the door. The very door that I installed a door knob protector on a few weeks ago so he couldn’t open it back up. In general I don’t like to do this and it is a last resort but here’s the deal: I would rather him be stuck in his room and finally have to give up the fight on his own than have him go to sleep with his last vision of me looking like the spawn of satan. Because let me tell you…after you have spent an hour telling a child to go to bed, your patience is thin and life isn’t looking good for the child…no matter how cute he is.

It can get ugly.

So I lock him in his room. This is a decision Lee and I came to together. We simply weren’t getting through to him any other way. Locking him in is a way to protect him and protect our own emotions. Glory, Hallelujah!

I don’t lock the door at night often because Landon’s afraid of being stuck in a dark room. Yes, I also removed the night light from his room and put it in the hallway because he was waking up at 3:00 in the morning and having parties with his stuffed animals like a teenager whose parents left town – sometimes for hours on end. So generally it only takes a couple of short moments in his dark room to get him to settle down. I am able to remain calm, he gets the idea. Everybody wins.

Nap time is a different story.

When I make him take a nap, that is. Because, you see, my third child is much like his mother. Dang it. (Not like my second born who, like her father, can sleep anytime, anywhere and seems to love the act of napping.) I don’t need a lot of sleep to function and neither does Landon. I gave up naps at an early age and Landon is following suit. I don’t like this, of course, but payback’s a bleep, right? I don’t like it because when he doesn’t nap, I don’t get the things accomplished that I need to get accomplished. But, on the flip side, when he doesn’t nap he goes to bed at 7:00 or 7:30 with little to no fuss and he sleeps all night.

Kind of a nice trade off.

He will still take naps many days, but I’m not forcing it anymore unless it’s obvious he’s really tired. I remember being forced to take a nap as a child and I hated it. I swore I would never make my children sleep if they weren’t tired and my little mini-Bieber just isn’t tired most days.

He’ll probably nap today since he didn’t yesterday. But alas, even though he didn’t sleep the locked door came in handy yet again when I made him stay in his room and play for a bit.

Of course he sat in there and used the bathroom in his pants, which was totally my fault since I locked him in.

*sigh* I can’t win.

Do any of you have sleeping struggles with children? Am I the only one? Please, commiserate with me, will you? Pull up a chair, grab a bottle of wine. Let’s chat. What? It’s only 10:00am?

Is it too early to drink?

I’m kidding! I don’t drink this early in the morning. No…I wait until 2:00 when the kids aren’t napping.

Again with the kidding…

Filed Under: Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Motherhood Tagged With: Kids and sleeping, kids dropping a nap, parenting, sleep disorders in kids

Dude

January 10, 2011 by Kelli

DUDE.

We know.

Filed Under: Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon Tagged With: kids who hate their beds, Landon, Random

The Star, A Book and A Monkey…not necessarily in that order

December 21, 2010 by Kelli

Monkey has been a part of our family for two years now. He was adopted on Landon’s first brithday and it was love at first sight…or bite – whatever.

Since that time, Monkey (sometimes referred to as Steve) has been a mere extension of Landon’s skinny little arm. Two peas in a pod, they are. Napping together, playing together, living together. Yes. They are the best of friends. Bosom buddies!

Recently, Monkey (Steve) had a bit of a medical crisis. His leg began separating itself from his body. It was touch and go there for awhile. We didn’t know if he would make it. The unfortunate snag stretched from mid-knee to the under arm. We prayed, we said our goodbyes, we prepared Landon for the worst. But he refused to give up hope. He believed in Monkey and so the rest of us did as well.

But just to be safe, we adopted a knew Monkey. Larry. Just kidding. The new Monkey doesn’t have a name. The new Monkey looks exactly the same. Except, of course, for the fact that he doesn’t smell like spit and pee. And his leg is fully attached. And his color is even throughout.

Landon took one look and with utter disdain tossed new Monkey aside. Like a red headed step child. Unwanted, unloved, unreturnable because I lost the receipt…

We decided to give Monkey (Steve) one last chance at life. Thanks to the skillful hands of his surgeon (Grandma Bebe) Monkey pulled through. In fact, he’s as good as new. You know, besides the fact that he smells like spit and pee, his leg fluff is distorted and thin and his coloring is extremely faded. It doesn’t matter to Landon, though. He loves Monkey (Steve) unconditionally.

____________________________________________________________________

Switching gears – abruptly.

Sloan is in public school. This is not a decision we took lightly and we spent a lot of time discussing this choice. And we are, for the most part, very happy with the choice we made. It’s right for our family right now.

However…

It does require quite a bit of vigilance. I knew this going in so I try not to let myself get overly exasperated when I feel…well, exasperated with the public school. Since Sloan began reading, and reading quite well, I’ve found myself more and more annoyed at the books he brings home from the library. In fact, I can’t think of a single one I’ve been happy with in several months.

It started with the book about Werewolves he checked out around Halloween. Nice.

Let’s begin by discussing The Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I get it, these books are popular and in general, I don’t think they’re bad. BUT. My kid is seven. Does he really need to be reading about the nuances of middle school? And the material in and of itself is just so silly and trivial. Why are we dumbing down books for our youngest readers? I don’t get it. What happened to writing books that were filled with adventure and imagination instead of potty words and stick figures?

Lee and I did read through the Wimpy Kid books and ultimately decided Sloan could check them out, but we are talking through them with him, discussing issues such as the boys trying to hide things from their parents and how that’s not something that we agree with. It’s lead to teachable moments, but I still find it annoying to have to deal with such nonsense.

THEN *deep breaths* he brought home this gem. A book he will promptly be returning to the library with firm instructions not to ever bring home again. We made it clear that he wasn’t in trouble and that it wasn’t his fault, but that some books just aren’t worth the time. And a book about a giant piece of p00p that punches people?! Definately not worth the time.

There’s no easy way to put this: THIS BOOK IS STUPID. It’s stupid and I don’t even understand why a school library would stock it on their shelves. Most of the words aren’t even spelled right (Laffs for Laughs, Akshuns for Actions). Seriously?! Am I the only person who finds this somewhat appalling that an early reader would be allowed to take home such nonsense?

Then there’s the small little “subliminal message” they hid on Page 76: “Think for yourself. Question Authority. Read banned books! Kids have the same constitutional rights as grown-ups!!!”

Oh sure it’s all tongue in cheek, but here’s the thing…IT’S NOT FUNNY NOR IS IT CUTE.

Let’s just say I’m talking myself off a cliff right now.

______________________________________________________________

Switching gears – let’s get happy again.

I had two separate conversations last week that brought a smile to my face and laughter to my heart. The first went like this:

“I need to reschedule our meeting for tomorrow. My daughter’s preschool is doing a live Nativity play and she is the star.”

“Oh really? Your daughter is going to be baby Jesus?”

The second conversation went like this:

“Tia was the Star in her Nativity play last week.”

“Oh really? Tia was Mary?”

Nope.

She was The Star. Literally.

She was The Star and yes. She was the star!

Peace Out.

Filed Under: Kids, Landon, Motherhood, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: books, Kids, kids reading appropriate books, public school rant, The Diary of a Wimpy Kid

My Christmas Baby

December 16, 2010 by Kelli

December 16, 2007

My Christmas Baby.

The boy who almost wasn’t.

The one who wasn’t planned.

The sweetest oops there ever was.

The boy who was adored from the moment he arrived.

A child of a thousand expressions.

Joyful and full of laughter. You light up a room.

You’re a mama’s boy.

I’m okay with that.

I’m kind of head over heels for you.

You have a special relationship with your dad.

You bond over sports.

I love watching this relationship develop.

You are a lover of baseball, basketball, football, anything with a ball.

Today you are three.

Not five ( or seven) as you are prone to tell those who ask.

Happy Birthday, Landon.

You are loved.

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Landon Tagged With: 3rd Birthday, Happy Birthday, Motherhood

He gets it all

December 6, 2010 by Kelli

He came to me yesterday as I prepared myself for dress rehearsal. The musical is set in 1947 so I had on dark eyeliner, a skirt, lips so red they glow in the dark and hair so curly that I vaguely resembled Simba.

He looked up at me with big eyes, then a slow smile spread across his face.

“You bootiful, Mom,” he said.

“Thank you, buddy,” I replied. My heart sort of melted at that point.

Then he grabbed my hand and gave it a tug. “Come down here,” he said, pulling me to my knees. “I wanna give you a hug ‘tause you bootiful.”

We hugged.

Then I promised everything he ever wanted and more. Money. Cars. His brother and sister’s inheritance.

He gets it all…

Photo courtesy of Lulu Photography