Veteran's Day Weekend (Better Late than Never)

Alright, well, these are already edited and ready to go, so I may as well post them.

Only a little over a week later....

On Saturday of the long Veteran's Day weekend Matt and I were so excited that Peter did not have a soccer game.  Our thrill over being able to relax all day on a Saturday lasted only until he realized he was signed up to run another Tough Mudder race that day again with some dudes from work.

Awesome.  

So he left at like 8 that morning and went to go challenge himself all day and wouldn't return until almost 7 that night.

So knowing Matt was going to be gone all day I started to freak out about going stir crazy on Saturday being trapped home with the 3 kids all day with nothing to do.  But the idea of taking the 3 of them anywhere by myself was just not appealing either.  Somebody ALWAYS runs away....

Luckily, my good friend's husband was doing a bike race that would take him out of the house all day as well.  And she didn't seem too excited about her day either.  So we decided to get together at the mall and see what fun we could find for the kids.

I'd just bought this little track suit for Lucy.  Doesn't she look cute?

At the mall, we let the kids run wild in the little play areas for awhile.  But soon everybody started to whine about being hungry so we headed over to the little bowling alley there in the mall.  The food is supposed to be really good and you can eat there behind the lanes so the kids would be occupied and happy while we waited on our orders.

They set the bumpers up for us, and let the kids go.  The boys mostly were all about it.  They just kept taking turns rolling the balls down, never paying attention to whose turn it was supposed to be or really how many pins they knocked down.

They only "broke" it maybe 3 (or 4) times by getting impatient and sending more than one ball down at a time.  Oops.

If you're wondering, Lucy slept the ENTIRE time.  (We paid for 2 hours of bowling.)

A.J.?  Well, she was a bit of a hot mess.  First she was just too hungry to bowl and after taking just a couple turns she lost interest.  After her peanut butter and jelly sandwich arrived and she finished demolishing it, she just got tired and sort of alternated between wanting to be held and wanting to escape.

She was either snuggled up on my lap or scurrying off around the corner towards the door.  Except she didn't scurry on her feet, she did it on all fours.  Like, the little boy in The Jungle Book.  It was weird.  If you asked, she'd tell you she wanted to walk like a bear.  They do that at dance class some times.  Alrighty then.

Eventually, she got interested in bowling again and took a few more turns between the boys.  I was happy to get a couple pictures of her to show she'd at least given it a try.

So that was basically Saturday.

Sunday, was Peter's friend's birthday party.

And after everybody ate, the high light of the party was a visit from the "Lizard Wizard."  It's this lady who brings a bunch of reptiles and snakes and things for the kids to see and pet.

My kids thought this was so cool.  I spent a lot of time standing on a picnic table a safe distance away. Turtles and lizards are fine, but I do not really care for snakes and spiders, let alone the tarantula, or hissing cockroaches (why did she have these they aren't Lizards at all?!?!?) 

This turtle wouldn't come out of it's shell.  I can't say I blame it much....

This big one was fun.  A.J. was so brave petting everything.

She liked having this big squishy frog sit on her arm.

Peter let two of them sit on his hat.  

Towards the end she brought out the snakes.  She asked the kids if they wanted to wear one and of course my girl was one of the first to volunteer.

And then you won't even believe what she did.  Once she had the snake on her, wrapped loosely around her neck stylishly like a scarf?  Yeah... she stood there and started to dance.  She smiled and made her best "Aren't I awesome?" face and shook her little hips.

See?

Oh my heck....

Not entirely sure she's even my child.  Because... ick.

Also, if you're wondering I was definitely up on the table when I took those pictures.

Peter... on the other hand, who everybody knows to be so brave and outgoing, didn't want any part of wearing that snake.  ('Atta boy!!!!)  He agreed to pet it gently, but that was plenty for him.

Or... maybe after his sister's performance, he just realized she'd stolen the show and he couldn't out do her anyway.

Finally... the lady brought out this big yellow fellow.  Or lady.  I don't remember which she said it was.  She had all the kids move over together and then she laid it all across their laps.  

Peter was less than impressed.
After a few moments he asked his Dad to let him out from under there.

Also... the big yellow snake?  Yeah, it was called Lemon Meringue Python.  Lemon for short.  Har har.  

A.J. never did see Lemon.  She wandered off to play before it came out.  

One can only imagine what sort of performance she might have put on had she seen the big yellow snake....

There she is, getting in the way of one of the boys on the slide.  

Anyway, so that was fun.

Things I probably shouldn't talk about

Can I just cut the crap for awhile?

I have a whole folder of charming pictures from last weekend to share, but I just don't want to right now. Sure, the memories are real.  The smiles on the kids faces are real.  Real enough that if I did happen to actually appear in any of those photos (I'm honestly not really sure whether or not I do) that you might actually believe that I'm happy from the smile on my face.

But that's not, really real right now.

And the problem with this blog now being a family memory blog is it makes me feel like when I'm falling apart I can't talk about it.  Because talking about how shitty I feel right now will tarnish all the happy memories I'm supposed to be recording.

Or something.

It doesn't really make any sense in my head either.

But some time after having baby number 3, things just got sort of.... icky in my head.

I tried really really hard to bounce right back.  I took less than a week "off" from this regular parenting gig of mine.  Maybe that was the mistake. I have only missed a couple tball practices and dance classes.  I've gotten the kids to school every day.  We made it through all of our Halloween traditions and I'm rapidly preparing for Thanksgiving while trying to throw together a birthday party for A.J.  I ignored the pain that was so much worse from the C-Section this time until it finally did (mostly) go away and just kept on keeping on.  I tried to keep active even while I couldn't run or exercise yet and now I am getting slowly back into those things too.

So on the outside, yes, sure, everything is fine.  I'm back at it, trying to be a good mom.  And sure we have another kid now, but we're keeping up.  I'm keeping up.

But I feel like it's killing me.

I'm just exhausted.

And I feel awful a lot of the time.

I mean, honestly, I've never felt so tired in my entire life.

It's not the baby.  Lucy is just amazing.  She's adorable and beautiful and sweet.  She sleeps like a champ. She eats like a champ.  She happily gets carted along everywhere and barely ever even cries.  She's wonderful and I love her so completely much.

I can't imagine my life without her.

But.

While I think about how amazing she is, I sort of feel awful.  It's almost like it's just too much.  Somehow there isn't any of me left over and I'm mad at Matt or the kids or the dogs or the weather or traffic or SOMETHING and I feel like I'm not loving on and appreciating my amazing baby Lucy enough.

She deserves and needs a mother who can hold her more, play with her more, be with her more.  I just feel like I am failing her all the time, even though she seems to be doing okay so far.

When Peter was a baby, well, I didn't have the first clue what the hell I was doing ever so, it was just fine.  He was, in retrospect, a pretty easy baby and we figured it out.

When A.J. was a baby and she cried and screamed and waled and kept me up all night, well, she was in good company.  She was terribly unhappy, but Matt was deployed and I hated Washington and so, so was I.  We were good and terribly unhappy together.

But Lucy is full of glee and I can't seem to be gleeful along with her.

I spend at least half of every day dressing and feeding and driving around her older siblings.  And she waits patiently for them to both be at school or to lay down in their rooms for rests so that she can have my actual attention for once.  But most of the time, by then, I feel wiped out and I just... can't.

I want to hold her and snuggle her and play with her but it's just too much.

Everything irritates me.

My two preschoolers who I shell out HUNDREDS of dollars of their Dad's hard earned paycheck for Preschool get in trouble all the time and/or tell me they don't want to go and/or SCREAM and throw horrific fits and try to literally scratch my eyes out while I take them in to drop them off.  Who fight with each other or their parents approximately 98% of the time and whine the other 2% to boot.  Who I worry about obsessively and fight for at every chance I get and who I love so much it literally makes my chest hurt to think about, that tell me at least once every day when they don't get their way or when they don't want to do something that they hate me and want new parents.

They drive me crazy.

And I know they only drive me that crazy because I love them so much, but still.  They're just too much.

One of my earliest memories of this life comes from when I was around age 3.  I have no Earthly clue what I did, but I got in trouble.  BIG trouble.  So big that I was mad and I told my mother I didn't love her.  Yeah.  It was that moment in my life.  Every kid gets there eventually, and hopefully they learn just as quickly that they're lying and they take it back.  I guess I didn't take it back.  But like I said I don't remember any of that.

What I do remember is what happened because of it.  My parents dumping out this ridiculous white bucket where we used to keep a lot of random toys and being told to pick a few to pack in my suitcase.  I don't remember which toys I picked or if anything else went in my luggage, but the next thing I remember is being dragged out of my house by my Dad I guess.  I remember it as I was begging my mom to forgive me, but that might not be accurate.  Anyway, my Dad I think (not sure at all if my mom went along too) loaded me into the car and drove me off towards a building with a lot of kids outside.  I have no idea where my brother was for any of this.  My dad told me it was the orphanage and that since I was so terrible to my mother I needed to get out and go live there.  Honestly.  I have this blurry image in my mind still today of the awful maroon vinyl interior of the car and looking in horror out the windows.  I think I remember laying and rolling all around in the back of that car on the seat and the floor crying and begging to stay with them and just be allowed to go home.  Eventually, I guess, my Dad decided I has learned my lesson and agreed to take me home.

For the record:  MUCH later in my childhood, I learned that building was a local elementary school and they were totally bluffing.  I'm honestly not sure they even still have orphanages in America anymore, but I certainly didn't know that then.

When I got home, my Mom was waiting for us.  I remember she looked cold and angry.  But she let me crawl in her lap and we talked and I guess we worked it out.

I wonder now if she really felt cold and angry or if she was sad.  I know I feel so terribly sad and heartbroken when my kids act that way.  But then again, my mother never was one for normal emotional reactions.

Honestly, judging as that was over 30 years ago and I still remember it, well.... I'm just going to go ahead and say that incident.... that parenting trick.... scarred me for life.  I'm almost certain my parents would say it was a genius move and one of their finest hours.  I certainly learned the lesson right?

It's hard to say, knowing now just how much worse the relationship I had with my mother would eventually get if this is true, but I feel like I always wondered if she really loved me after that.  Or maybe even before that.  Like I was always worried she'd try to get rid of me again.

I do not, however, bring all of that up now because I want to discuss my ridiculous childhood.  I bring it up to say that the other day, my 2 older children were behaving SO COMPLETELY HORRIFICALLY that I seriously stopped for a moment and considered doing the exact same thing to them.

Except they don't even own suitcases of their own.

They certainly could use to learn that lesson about being thankful for their home and their parents.

Yes, that's right.  I actually considered doing to them exactly as my parents did to me, even though this particular incident is one I have always regarded as some of the most horrific parenting EVER.

And my mother used to hit my kind of a lot sometimes when I was older, do that's saying something.  But like I said.... SCARRED.  For life.

But honestly, how come my children can be so completely awful?

I try so so so hard to teach them right from wrong and how to behave and they just push back at every turn.  Like, is it even possible to have well behaved kids who KNOW their parents love them?  Because that's all I want.  But more and more it is starting to seem like the only way my kids will ever learn to do as they're told because what I'm telling them to do is necessary (like eat or bathe or sleep) is if I act so horribly to them that they honestly think I might not care about them at all.  I don't want to scare them straight but its starting to seem like the only option.

It's awful.

Totally unrelated:

My entire closet of ill fitting, mostly out of style clothes mocks me.

I want my body back but after 3 babies in just over 4 years, with no gym membership anymore and almost no time to spare anyway, I don't even know what my body is supposed to be like now or how to dress it.

My husband's entire closet of completely ill fitting and completely out of style clothes mocks me worse.  Honestly, the fact that he wears a uniform is just the only hope for him I swear.

The one couch has a tear in it.  The recliner needs another new slip cover.  Our mattress is terrible anymore. The dishwasher is possessed.  The trees in the backyard need trimmed.

But the baby needs diapers.  And the kids need clothes.  Christmas is coming.  And school tuition for the older 2 eats up all our excess money.

Tuition for school that they supposedly hate.

Last week on both Tuesday and Thursday, after A.J. finished actively trying to rip out all of my hair and scratch out both of my eyes while I walked her into her classroom in the morning, I found her cubby shockingly EMPTY.  No cute art work awaited me from her previous classes at all because she had REFUSED to do the work.

What the hell kid?  Why am I even sending you there?  It is supposed to be fun.  You're supposed to make friends and paint and read stories and love it.  What are you even doing that is so much more important that you can even be bothered to do your work, which in this case means gluing together a ridiculous paper bag turkey puppet?  You're not even 3 yet how can you possibly be this hard headed ALREADY?!?!?!?

Matt tries to help.  But with the kids his temper is too short or his bark is too scary and I lot of the time I have to spend twice as much time fixing it with the kids afterward than if I'd just handled it myself.

Matt sweetly ignores the blobby parts of my body and compliments me and give me attention and all of that.

I sort of just want to run away from him and hide.
.
I like his attention but I still feel like crap.  And because I feel crappy I never react right to him and then he's upset with me too.

I say something insulting, because it's honestly how I feel, even though I don't know it's insulting because I don't even know what's going on in his head and then he's mad at me.  But he can't tell me about being mad or discuss it with me because that's how HIS brain works so I have to just wait around for him to put it aside and forget about it on his own.

But I don't know how to just put aside stuff and get over it.  So I stress and I worry and then I feel crappier then before.

It's all just too much.

All of it.

My kids.

My baby.

My husband.

Me.

Yuck.

Is this what happens when you jump right back in after the 3rd kid?

Is this what post partum depression is?

I just want to SLEEP but there is always somebody that needs me.  I'm so tired.  And  even when there isn't and I have a few hours... the sleep just won't come.  Or I have nightmares.

Or my boobs are going to explode and I have to get up and go pump/feed the baby.


Ever get that ENORMOUS and overwhelming desire to just.... crawl right out of your own skin?


And once you're out of your skin maybe for a little while you'll be able, to get away from it all and just disappear?


That's where I'm at.


I was thinking last night, when I should have been sleeping about people who try to kill themselves.  And, now, don't freak out.  I'm not there right now.  I'm NOT.  I have been close a few times in my life maybe, a long time ago, but that doesn't really matter.  What I mean is I sort of understand how people can get to that point.  Everything just becomes too much for too long and they just want to make it stop.  I absolutely relate to every word of that last sentence right now.  Oh how I would love to just make everything stop for awhile.  But for some people, unfortunately, they don't feel like they have enough love or support in their lives to get past it.

So they try to do the worst.

To make it all stop.  For forever.

How terrible.

Honestly, the fact that I still think that's terrible, even though everything else seems overwhelming to me right now, seems like an excellent sign.

Somewhere in my psyche sanity still prevails.  My subconscious is fighting back.

So right now, when everything feels like too much for me, and honestly I don't really know for sure how I'm going to get through to the end of another day that holds so much for me to do that it sort of feels impossible, I'm just trying to be grateful.

I have my God and my husband and my kids and my baby and even my dogs to drag me through this phase of ickiness.  If I can just find a few things to smile about with each of them today that will be enough.

And eventually I'm sure, even though they all feel kind of like the problem right now I'll realize they aren't. It's just me.  I'm a little broken in my brain somewhere and this is just how I get sometimes.  Eventually, I'll dig my way out of this hole somehow.  Because I just have to.

I am not my mother.

I refuse to be.

The crazy will not win.



But dear Lord, please, somehow, don't let my children have inherited this from me.
Amen

Trick Or Treat

Our friends from the dance studio joined us for Trick or Treat this year.  They live kind of out in the country where the houses are all really far a part and it isn't conducive to trick or treating at all.  

For dinner we made home made pizzas.  Matt was supposed to do it but of course he got caught up a bit late at work so I ended up doing most of it by myself.  He'd made the pizza dough up the night before and left in the fridge to rise over night, but I had to make the sauce and roll the dough out and form it all into actual pizzas and cook them all on my very own.

Most of you know I'm no good at following recipes.  I much prefer to estimate and sort of wing it.

I only called Matt a half dozen times.... 

But, for all the haters out there who think I am a failure as a wife and mother because I don't cook all that often, I'd like to show you this:

BAM!  A Jack-o-lantern pizza, made from scratch.

Anyway, so our friends arrived with their girls and we all had dinner.  Truth be told, we all demolished the heck out of those pizzas.  (There was another one that isn't in the picture.)  Then it was time to get the kids together and go collect candy.

Peter was like a boy possessed.  He was so excited to go get candy.
Greedy might be the word for it actually...  

Oh but first, Peter needed a family picture for a project at school this month.  Um... pretty sure the only picture I had of our family including Lucy was the one in the hospital taken the day she was born.  And as much as that is a special memory, that picture is already on Peter's family picture place mat at school and seeing as I am in a hospital gown, hooked up to and I.V. and assorted other medical machines and I am ten different kinds of bloated.... yea... NO.  We needed to get a better one for sure.

With that taken care of, it was time to herd the kids out the door to get pictures of them with the pumpkins on the front porch.  But on the way, this also happened:

Hehehee.

Then we got one of all the kids:

Pretty good, considering I don't think a single one of them is actually looking at my camera.

Our good friends, Strawberry Shortcake and Jessie.

And of course,

Pirate Peter and Ladybug A.J.

Peter bravely "held" his baby sister again so we could get this one....

Cute, but not great.   I think it might be a while before we can get a good one of all 3 of them.

Finally, with the posed pictures out of the way, we headed out.  The Moms took the bottom half of the street first while the Dads stayed back to hand out candy.  We would switch jobs in the middle and the men could take the kids up the remainder of the street (where the hill is steeper!)

The kids were so cute.  They'd all gather on a porch and then Peter would knock boldly.  When the door opened they'd call out "Trick or Treat" in their sweet little voices and then wish the folks Happy Halloween a dozen times as they received their treats before we'd tell them to knock it off, say thank you for the candy already and get a move on.  Peter and my friend's older daughter kept trying to rush ahead and get to more houses in order to collect the most candy.  A.J. and my friend's younger one straggled behind and fell down kind of a lot.  The neighbor kid was so cute, dressed up as a blueberry and holding out the GIANT bowl of candy to let his little neighbors choose.  Peter bravely held the girls hands when they were scared of the decorations at certain houses.  And Lucy?  Well, she just hung out.  Literally.

Finally we arrived back at our house.  

The men took the kids back out and finished out our street, but of course, I kept the camera so there aren't any more pictures of that.  Apparently it got even more interesting though... Peter tripped and fell on an uneven driveway and cried.  A.J. tripped and fell and tore her tights and cried.  The other two?  I don't know for sure what happened, but Matt said they needed their Daddy to carry them a lot.  

So with that, another year's Halloween was put to rest.

And don't get me wrong, because I LOVE me some Halloween, but what with all our regular activities, plus trips to the pumpkin patch and fall festivals and costume parties and carving pumpkins ALL the fun that had been squeezed in for it already, it was quite a relief that it was finally over.  

Time to move on to November.... Veteran's Day and Thanksgiving and A.J.'s birthday- HERE WE COME!


PS- Did you notice that we acquired 2 more jack-o-lanterns? As if we didn't have enough already! Goodness, it looks like we're maybe a bit insane with all of them sitting there on our porch like that.  But our friends brought theirs over for trick-or-treat.  They wanted their pumpkins to be with ours for the holiday since we were celebrating together. And honestly now, HOW CUTE IS THAT?!?!?!

The Cutest Little Jack-O-Lantern

After preschool and lunch, I sent both the preschoolers off to their beds for the better part of the afternoon to rest.

Actually, that's not true.  A.J. went to her bed.  She still NEEDS a nap most afternoons.  Peter will basically never take a nap.  So instead he went in to my bed with the iPad to play games for a couple hours so that he wouldn't keep his sister up or drive me crazy all afternoon.

Somewhere in the course of the afternoon, while the other two were out of our hair, I changed Lucy into her little Halloween costume.

She was, of course, going to be a pumpkin.

(Peter had insisted on this since well before she was even born.)

I wanted to try again at getting some good pictures of her in her costume since I hadn't had the best of luck over the weekend when she'd worn the outfit to the fall festival.  Plus she was being super cute and playful.   

I love that she is getting very interactive now.  She's all smiles and sticking her tongue out at you.  She'll even let out the tiniest of little giggles sometimes when something amuses her.  If you don't play close attention you might miss it... but it happens and it is A-Dor-A-Ble.

It's easy to forget about these little early joys with babies because, as I know now from the other two, soon enough they will be rolling and sitting up and crawling and climbing and just generally getting into trouble.

And while, all of that is certainly a lot of fun, there is absolutely something to be said for this stage of sweet little coos and grins and giggles.  

Love it.  

Oh!

Also, don't you love her trick or treat treats?  Her Gramma and I found the little pumpkin filled with stuffed a candy corn, a spider and a ghost toys and I just thought they were so cute since she's too young for candy treats this year.  :)

Also, later that afternoon, before dinner while we were waiting for our friends to come over, she fell asleep on her Dad and just...

Love.

A.J.'s All Saints Day Parade at Preschool

On Thursday, which was actually Halloween, Peter went to school in his pirate costume again.  The rest of the school and the other half of the preschool (the 3 year olds) were celebrating that day too.  So basically, his class got double Halloween parties out of the deal.

I know right?!?!?

Too much fun and sugar!!!!

(Might explain the trip the office he made on Friday morning, I'mjustsayin....)

Meanwhile, over at A.J.'s preschool they do not celebrate Halloween.  Instead they do All Saints Day.

I KNOW RIGHT?!?!?!?!

(Peter's school does All Saints Day too, only they save it for All Saints Day, which is November 1st.  Kids can dress up as their favorite Saint and they have a special mass. Anyway, A.J.'s class didn't have school on November 1st, but I still think skipping Hallloween altogether is just.... lame.)

A.J.'s class's saint was Noah.  They had little hats and made little paper arks.  But, um.... now, I'm still pretty new at this whole Catholic thing, but I didn't think Noah was a Saint.  I mean, it's a great story, but....? I suppose it's because A.J.'s school isn't Catholic, its Episcopalian.  I don't really mind the difference as long as it's still Christ based, but, AGAIN, I thought non-Catholics didn't have Saints.  Maybe the Episcopalians still do though?  

I guess (according to wikipedia) in the Anglican church they think of saints (with a small s) as the heroes of the Bible as well as a lot of the same Saints as the Catholics. So I guess that explains Noah.

I think.  Still I feel confused.

Anyway....

So A.J. wore a cute Halloween-y shirt to school that day but no costume and I felt sad for her until I saw all the other kids there without costumes too.  And so, to make the day still seem special there, they were having a little All Saints Day parade as the kids walked over for their regular Thursday Chapel Time.  Families were invited to Chapel that day as well.

They made fun hats and noisemakers to wear and use while they paraded around their little school.  

The trouble was, the parade was from 10:45 until 11.  And I have to pick Peter up at 11 at his school.  I told A.J. I would not be there for her parade but that her brother, sister and I would come to Chapel as soon as we could get there.  His school is just down the street from hers after all.

But then I went home and The Mommy Guilt hit me hard.

(Yes I capitalized it.  It's a real thing.  And a problem for me.  Definitely deserves to be capitalized.)

Why hadn't I just signed Peter to stay for lunch so I could have gone to see A.J. and we could have picked him up second today?

How many times have we dragged A.J. to stuff for brother?  And now I wasn't going to be there for her thing?

Mommy SUCKS!

I decided to try to do both.  Poor Lucy was in for a bit of adventure with me in the process.

I figured if I got there and timed it right, I could catch the first part of A.J's parade.  Then I would run out, drive down to get Peter and only be a minute or two late.  Then we would go back and join her for chapel as planned.

I was sweating bullets hoping it would all work out.  I chatted nervously with a couple of the other moms as I waited for the parade to start.  I was praying that her class would be first in the line up.

AND THEN...

THEY WERE!!!!

Here class came trudging around the corner all adorable.  She was maybe halfway back in the line.  I don't know if she was looking for me or not but she was waving and smiling like her teacher had told her too I guess and seemed fine.  I rushed forward, called her name and hoped she'd see me.  I snapped a couple pictures.

She saw me and beamed.

ABSOLUTELY worth it.

I ran off towards my car, carrying Lucy in the car seat carrier.

I hurried back to get my boy.  He was the last child waiting to get picked up, but he hadn't started to worry yet.  Then we hurried back up the street again to A.J.

We found the kids all gathered in the chapel, listening to some Bible stories being read to them by the preschool director.

A.J. was right in the front.  She was practically sitting on the director's lap.
She also kept randomly popping up.  She didn't want to sit still, she wanted to make sure I saw her.

After the stories, the kids sang a few little songs.  And that was that.

No big deal really.

But I'm so glad I hadn't missed it.

Heading back to class.  :)

AJ's Halloween Costumes at Dance

After we left Peter the Pirate at his preschool, we headed off to dance class for our little Ladybug A.J.

Naturally I took about a million pictures.  The dance teacher was actually wondering why I didn't bring the really good camera.  Ha.  Because with the medium camera that sometimes takes randomly crappy pictures for absolutely no good reason I still ended up with this many.  Can you even imagine how many I'd have with the good lens?

OH EM GEE.

Anyway....