Under-demeciated Momitis - it's becoming a common disease!!

First... you should READ THIS ARTICLE



I've written about this before. This kinda made me almost cry. Like... a tear started to form. It does touch a chord in most of us mom's.
It is so very true. It is so very very important.
Almost all of the photos I have with my kiddos, I've taken at arm's length b/c sometimes I'd like for them to see that I did exist, should they ever forget.
Beyond the photographic ramifications of this post, it's also important to remember all those little things that we tend to forget. She may well not know exactly how much she hit home by reminding me, and I'm sure many others, that all those little things we do are so very important.

I spend every single waking moment consumed by what I need to do for them, what I should've done for them, what I want to do for them, what I can do for them, what I won't do for them... so on so forth.
Those are the things, the "things I do WELL" things, that we have to remember as parents. Not even JUST Moms. We get so caught up in all we don't do well enough, if you know me you this is too often my personal mantra, but we MUST make sure WE ourselves acknowledge all the great things that we do and focus on those.
Man... Dr. Smoot would be proud of that statement. ;) It's something I continually forget. It's something I continually have to remind myself and something he had to drill into my head for 2 years. THIS IS IMPORTANT PEOPLE!!!!!
More important than that, it's important that our families see, realize whatever all THOSE things. Instead of them constantly being disappointed in all the OTHER things we didn't get to or provide for them.
On that note, thanks to this article which I've seen floating around but not read yet, I will feel better about myself as a parent today b/c...
They've got Halloween oreo yogurt in the fridge with fresh bananas for snack after school. They've got shelves LOADED with good books. They've got arms that will hug them tight.

Their beds are currently occupied by Ralph, Bob, Sue, Max, Crocker, Ruff, and... yeah whatever the rest of their names are. I let them talk my ear off even when I wish for silence. I let them survive through using all my bath and hair products for "science experiments". I go w/out facial waxes, pedicures and nights out with the girls so that I can make sure they have movie night with the family and nice clothes and shoes.
I don't beat them, I don't call them names, I don't dump them off on unsuspecting friends and relatives to 'maybe' return later... eventually. I try my hardest to be there for them. I try to teach them good manners, values, common sense and... responsibility. We're working on that last one there. ;)

I can beat myself up better than anyone ever tried, so the moments when it dawns on me that... ya know? I'm actually a pretty decent mom, I feel such immense relief. It only comes along once in awhile, but those days when I realize that I'm not actually horrible at this. I'm simply human and flawlessly imperfect and they love me for it anyway... I feel pretty good.
Hopefully, as time goes on, I'll start to realize that more and more. It's a long road to get there and I remind myself that the people that appear to have it all together and wear a super mom cape under their neatly tailored clothing have nannies and maids or are so drugged up it's probably illegal in a few states.

The fact that I try, the fact that I fail, but I try again and never ever ever EVER give up for them matters more than anything else probably ever can. They probably won't see that for many years to come, but I'll just hold on to the hope that someday they will know that I might have failed at a lot of things, but trying to be the best Mom I could to them won't be one of them.
Where I am not cut out for being the class Mom and the thought of being surrounded by masses of short people with snot, germs, and screechy annoying noises is enough to send me out of state. I am the Mom that lets them dig giant mud tunnels and get covered from head to toe, takes them on photo scavenger hunts in the woods and builds forts out of whatever we can find. Takes them biking through the hills, makes them listen to nature, look at the stars, and helps maintain a pretty intense bug collection.
I accept them for the amazing beings they are. Just like I am supposed to and as time goes on, I learn that I am to expect the same from them and that they already DO accept me as I am. They love me, I am their Mommy. I might be a little too squishy and uncomfortable in my own skin,they could care less.

My lips kiss them goodnight, my arms hug the security right back into them when the world is just a little too much and my chest pillows their heads when they just need to hear the beating sound that lulled them through the very beginning of their existence, reminding them it will always be there for them no matter what.


(P.S. the title, if you don't understand the first part, you have not seen Bedtime Stories and you probably should b/c I think it's cute).

Hello England :0)

Hello England :0), originally uploaded by off the*deep*end.

Hello England :0)

Off my chest

I will admit I've got loads of unpublished posts I should probably publish. I do get stuff off my mind once in awhile. ;) I've needed to write about this for a bit, it's just now at the point of spilling over so out it must come.
Not a specific thing for any length of time. I've just thought a lot about the different places my camera, of all things, has taken me. Because of what I do, I've been involved in moments of people's lives that are life changing. Not only my camera has taken me there of course.
I've just thought a lot about some of the major moments I've been a part of, either by direct involvement or just being a body taking up more space. I've watched humans take their first breath and I have watched them take their last. Beyond having a child of your own or being there to hold the hand of your parent when they pass on, these are things most people wouldn't really be involved in.
On my fan-page I've made mention a few times lately about the places it takes me. However, in one instance, out of respect to the family I would not really divulge more than a blanket statement.

I did blog about the session I already did, I just have not posted it yet, so I won't go into all of that. I just feel that I need to get a few things out in regards to where I was last night. One minute I am sitting here in my sweats listening to the kids crash legos around, Mike watching TV and me fiddling around on facebook. The next thing I know, I'm racing to throw some clothes and make up on, jamming my battering in the charger and then running out the door.
I was asked to photograph a mini-memorial service for the little angel I photographed on the first day of the year.

I have a friend who suffered a HORRIBLE tragic loss when she was barely pregnant, and I mean BARELY pregnant with her beautiful little boy. Her writing was so incredibly profound, so raw, so painfully beautiful, so deeply human that I genuinely hoped she kept it all. Her pain, her anger, her fear, her love, her soul bared and shared with a few friends on the internet. Someone I've yet to lay physical eyes on. Yet I felt as though every true word of what was crashing around in her soul was jumping into me as well. I really do hope that she's kept them all, because I still think of them often. She brushed her words off each time I'd try to tell her how powerful they were and how much GOOD I think they would do the world. I wasn't pumping her ego with nonsense just because I thought it might brighten her world. I wasn't saying to go out and be a writer for a living. It was simply the fact that she wrote everything she felt. No holds barred. These are the honest to goodness emotions that someone felt AT the very moment. This was the effect someone else's poor judgement had caused. It's the thing that people NEED to see, that perhaps they might think about what she went through before they themselves made the same poor decisions that could just as easily cause yet another person such heart ache.

There's another who is a friend of a friend who I've mentioned in the past (though I think on my other blog) who suffered a great loss. She wrote on her public blog to thousands EVERY day as this went on, afterward etc... The raw-ness of it all. The working out of the why's and how's and what if's in a public arena for all to see. This woman's ideas and thoughts were SO incredibly profound, so thought-provoking....I STILL direct people to her blog archives to read it when they're suffering a loss I cannot fathom. Simply because of how much her words helped ME and how she dealt with things.

These are examples of why I find writing SO important. It is also the reason why I'm often missing posts here. I need to write it in the moment when it's fresh and raw and I can't really hold it in. I think a lot of times it helps me work through things to just start typing.
Sometimes, it may even help others who were at the same place, realize what it was through the eyes of someone else.

In a blink I went from hanging out in my sweats and thinking about what laundry I had to do for the next day and how close it was to bed time for the boys...
To standing in a small military airport with a young family and several people in uniform waiting for the carrier plane to land to take their baby's body back to the states so that they could bury her with their family.
As I walked in, I honestly didn't know anyone but the family. I will readily admit I'm far from comfortable with a bunch of people in uniform. Odd I know, me being the rebel girl who's not easily intimidated. It is not intimidation it is actually discomfort out of respect. The last thing I want to be is the asshole that simply didn't know that was SOOOOOO not cool.
I could honestly care less about rank at ALL. I care about it to the point that I expect lower ranks to show some damn respect to those higher than them and the ones that hold it, having earned it and knowing who gets no time to themselves for they spend each moment caring for those under them. That's about as far as it goes.
When you walk into this sort of situation...it's certainly not going to be comfortable. I'm not the one who's afraid to just carry on with whatever mundane sort of conversation one can come up with. I only hesitate because, regardless of how much care I try to take with my words I always feel that I inevitably say something horrible at the WRONG time. Yes, I once complained about my uncomfortable shoes to a woman in a wheelchair....completely unable to catch the words before they came out of my mouth. Once it's out, you certainly can't take it back nor make mention of it because that's even worse. Just pray like hell you can come up with some clever way to make sure they know you're aware of your asinine comment and move on. Hopefully.

For me, for the reason I was there, for the person I am...I just tend to stand back quietly (yes shockingly) unless otherwise instructed. I just prefer to blend into the back like a ninja and document what I came to document and not interfere with people. As it often turns out, idle chitter chatter can help alleviate the heavy air around the most gut-wrenching situations.

What transpired for the next hour and a half after I arrived was a great deal of chit-chat about anything else. A few formalities that were handled like business as usual, cut, dry and straight to the point and immediately back to talking about nothing of any importance. Which is definitely what I think I would prefer. We know what I always say....sometimes it's better to say something incredibly stupid just to fill the space than to say nothing at all.
Being too afraid to speak to someone that's going through such a loss, is often far more hurtful than the idiotic thing you *might* say. It's worse, in my opinion, to be further alienated due to people's fear of saying the wrong thing. It seems to me, that others feel that way as well. You hear about people or see them on TV that don't want to speak to anyone, I have yet to come across those people though so I'm not sure if there really is anyone out there that doesn't like some idle banter or not. Thus far, it seems to be a sanity saver in crappy situations. It's a method of identifying, of keeping some form or normalcy in something that is just not.

I saw this very young family surrounded by caring and genuinely concerned people. It was later in the evening, normally you would see people checking their watches, yawning, eye rolling etc.... None of that. The one time I can recall that I actually saw NOTHING more than respect and honest concern from one end of the room to the other. From the guys from the squadron to the people that worked at the airport, nothing but the utmost respect. As a mother, I appreciated that FOR them more than words could express.

When we finally heard the plane arrive, I know I felt my own heart in my throat. I've run this through in my mind a million times how horrible it must be to have your baby but for only a couple of short weeks, not even able to hold her close to your own skin and lose her. Now to have to put her on this aircraft alone and have to walk away and go home to prepare to fly out separately the next day...it seemed a whole new form of torture. How could I let go? How on earth could *I* let them do things as they are supposed to be done when I'd want nothing more than to be as close as I possibly could to her for the seconds that are left. I say seconds as I'm sure you'd be able to slow them down and count them individually.

We were guided out onto the flight line, everyone in uniform and the family lined up at either side. They all waited patiently, almost at attention though it was not yet required. It was very cold, it was wet out, but still....everyone stood waiting and wearing their respect on their faces like a hat on their heads. I looked across from me and the men who were part of the escort crew that I did not know had joined the line, backs straight, faces forward and then me.... standing awkwardly in the edge of the line, looking about concerned for where I should actually be. Being the one that doesn't actually fit into any of the categories, makes it difficult to maintain your invisibility. One of the airmen across from me gave me a small smile of assurance which was appreciated. Just as quickly, everyone popped to attention and I stepped back out of the way.

We saw the van carrying her little body round the corner, driving so incredibly slowly, being escorted on all sides by soldiers on foot.
As soon as the van neared us it began to rain very softly. The Chaplain meets the van, a prayer is said, she is removed and gently carried to the cargo area of the plane. In line, in perfect unison, they all fall in behind her, one by one, and walk up the ramp, which is lined on each side by the crew, standing at attention.
The Chaplain calls us all in closer, he reads a verse from the Bible, he says The Lord's Prayer, a few more words. We all step out of the plane to give the family a few moments.
They take only one and just like that it is over. I don't blame them a bit, I would have to run away or I would never leave. I am sure they could not get out of there fast enough.
As someone on the outside, someone who had the blessing to meet this sweet little angel and hold her on her pillow just a few short days after her birth. As someone who then found it far more difficult to look at the images on her computer screen after the photos were taken. The moment her mother had to walk off of that plane was the hardest to me.

It was now raining much faster, an odd fast but exceptionally soft rain. I had no umbrella and my clothing would not offer any protection to my gear.
All I wanted to do, was sit down in the middle of the flight line, on the freezing cement in the pouring rain and cry until that plane flew off. I, too, had to run back inside quickly.

I hugged their necks, expressed my condolences, offered any help at all they might need and got in my car.

Eerie thing is, I had to stop for gas on my way home and while I was filling my tank...I heard the engines fire up for take off and the rain stopped.

I'm glad I didn't know you

I recently had the bittersweet honor of photographing a beautiful baby girl. I say bittersweet because she was born with very severe defects that will, but for the grace of God by some miracle no one seems to hope for, take her small little life in a very short matter of time.
I signed up with NILMDTS quite awhile ago. In fact I can actually pinpoint exactly when I applied to them and the reason behind it. Which I will not get into right now. I will just say that due to my own history I figured it would be many years before I felt I'd be confident enough to keep it straight doing one of those sessions. However, there was a situation that led me to know with strong conviction I COULD do it. I could walk in there, hold it together or shed a tear or two if it were warranted, do my job, hug the family who were until then complete strangers and walk out. I would walk out and likely burst into tears, but...history shows, I hold it together when no one else can and let it all out later when it's more convenient.
Obviously, when you do that type of a session, you are now FOREVER bound to this family if only by a small thread. It is true. I would be walking in there to preserve what may be the only time they will have with this child they dreamt of and loved so much already. It may be counted in minutes, the window of opportunity to hold them whether there be but a few minutes of life left in their angel, or it had already passed by. The people involved in these precious hours are people that will forever be connected by this tragic loss.
I have known NILMDTS since it's beginning. I am friends with photographers who really put it in motion. Photographers who give so much of their time and .... their hearts. It is such an AMAZING organization that gives such an AMAZING gift to people who would otherwise only be left with a few fuzzy memories of a day that broke their hearts. As I mentioned I signed up with them a long time ago, I never got called however. I think that a lot of hospitals are just not even aware. Which is tragic in itself. Otherwise, we moved and I just didn't keep up with all of the organizations etc... as I have taken quite a bit of time off.
That said, there was always an absolute YES should the need ever arise.
I mention NILMDTS as it is one that I feel passionate about. I've recently removed myself from a few charity organizations due to the fact that I get called on to do it, but i simply have no passion for it at all. That is unfair to all parties concerned.
Recently a situation came up that warranted photos. This little girl was not expected to make it but a few days. I passed on the word that I would be glad to come out and take photos for the family at any time day or night. I can understand that some people may not be comfortable with the idea. So I just left it in their lap to think on and welcomed them to call me anytime and I'd be there. I had back up childcare on standby just in case.
Now...you always tend to think that it will be difficult to be in the room with this family that is in the process of grieving this loss or the impending loss. You think it will just make you sick, you won't be able to hold it together, you're terrified you will start sobbing and make the whole situation that much worse. Those are the things I feared most overall, though I knew most of that would not happen, I was still very apprehensive about what it would be like in that room. Were they in denial? Were they fully grasping the situation? Would I be able to talk about it or is it something we had to pretend wasn't really going on? Could I talk at all? You know? I can't imagine all the different scenarios you could walk in on.
In this case, they called me on a Sunday morning. They'd had, by then, a couple of days to prepare themselves, to grasp the situation, to accept it and work through it. I was not walking into one of those situations that brought excited expectant parents into the hospital but sent them out shattered and empty handed. The severity of it all was not expected, but they knew part of what was coming. They were just going through the motions. While, it was still necessary to be mindful of where the conversation turned, small talk was good for the air in the room.
It was not really that uncomfortable at all. No, we just doted on her. We discussed her condition a bit. We talked about the weather and food and schools etc.... I took the photos, we chatted.

All the while I am watching the interactions, as I do. I still shot. I've been doing that a great deal more lately, just shooting willy nilly with no particular focus. People may look at me crazy while they see my hitting the shutter just holding the camera loosely. However that catches the raw of the moment.

Anyway, we went through the various photos making sure to snap a couple of with everyone since it was veery important to get them all with her as we could. We made small talk. They were incredibly appreciative and I was so glad to see that they were being so well taken care of.
All of this went fine. I held it together fine. It tried to take me to a crummy place a time or two, but I kept having to remind my.... mind? That it was not about me. It was not about THAT. It was just about them. Period.

The issue seems to have come out of the woodwork afterward. It is when I had the images up on my computer screen. Frozen. I've said it before and I'll say it again, emotion strikes when all the other bullshit is gone. I don't know if it is because I am a photographer and it is the frozen emotion of a photo or if it is that way for everyone. It's just to me...when all the noise and the movement and the anticipation and dread and excitement and the air etc... are all just stripped away and there is JUST the visual of that moment. It's the moment that w/out all of the other stuff in the way can be construed a million different ways. Only myself and the others there know what was going on, and more so likely I am the only that truly knows. You strip away the masks, the persona, the facade they are trying to put on. What you are left with is the emotion that cannot be hidden. I can't tell you if it is just the twinkle in their eye, the curve of their mouths, the slump of the shoulders or all of the above equated together to make this one scene complete. Whatever it is, the emotion did not hit me while I was in the room enveloped in this grief, in these bittersweet moments of life and loss. It was when the whole world was quiet and I had the face of a father, dark circles under his sad eyes staring back at me. His daughter's tiny fingers wrapped around his, a proud smile across his lips and a look of despair in his eyes. It is a mother's face as close to her daughter's as she can get without hurting her. Her hand on her tiny head, her eyes closed above her freckled cheek soaking up every second she can.

It is this moment, this time when all was quiet in my home. When everyone slept peacefully that I found myself staring back at this screen. I stared back for a long time. I flipped through image after image. I stared again and again. For hours. I'd fiddle with a shot here and there but I ended up just staring back, searching each shot for the epitome of the striking emotion. There it was again and again.
I did not get much sleep for several days. I finally had to devote an entire DAY to get them finished because my night time attempts were not working out.
I am thankful for the great support from a group of friends (moo) who were there to help give me a boost when it was getting to me. Yes trust me, I felt like a complete dick for thinking of how it was bugging ME. It wasn't bugging ME b/c of my OWN stuff though, it was just bugging me FOR the family. If that makes any sense. I couldn't stop trying to put myself in their shoes. I don't WANT to be in their shoes and I could never *imagine* it anyway. However, that doesn't stop you from trying to empathize with people. It doesn't stop me anyway. Luckily I had some friends there in the wee hours to just squirt a little water on my face and cheer me on so I could top that hill.
As it were, I have struggled long enough with my own little loss as we all know. One which is, of NO comparison here. I am pretty certain that I came to a new conclusion based on my own loss. I DO wish I had had more information. I certainly don't wish what happened had happened, nor would I wish it on ANYONE. I'm not thankful, I have not found some greater meaning to life because of it. I don't think that I am any more or less sympathetic to others (perhaps a LITTLE maybe) because of it. I'm still upset that I can't put any logic to it.
However, I think I am glad, that I did not know the baby I lost. I knew what little I knew, which is still TOO little. I am glad though, that I did not have to get to the point that I held a little body in my arms knowing it would not last. Knowing that I couldn't keep her long enough to get used to the feel of her in my arms. Even a minute is enough to leave that impression on your chest, that feeling in your arms that simply cannot be described but I know every loving mother out there knows that feeling I am talking about. That one that feels so hopelessly empty when it's been too long between hugs. I am glad that I didn't get to know her smell or her eyes or the curve of her lips. I cannot imagine how much worse for the wear I'd be, not even have been. I mean how it would BE if I would've had that. Those beautiful sweet moments.
I say that on one hand, oh my God how hard must that be? They can't even HOLD her b/c it hurts her too much. She must lay on a pillow that they hold. They don't even get to feel her skin against theirs. The warmth of her little body snuggled up in their chests, her soft quick breathing and tiny little baby noises. none of that. I am so glad that I didn't get that far, but..... I know I would have cherished every single extra second I got and I would've been just as glad to get them.

You just never know though. You wish for one thing, but put in a different situation, you may see that it wasn't all that important after all.
At any rate. I was so glad that they decided to call me. I am so honored to have been able to do this for them. I hope that the images will bring them comfort as time goes on. I would do it again in a heartbeat b/c when it all comes down to it, our own shit doesn't matter. What we can do to help others does. Due to the things we've all experienced can make us better suited to handle things or to help people. I'll just take it as a blessing that I was able to do this for them and that they trusted me enough to walk in on this very heartbreaking time with the family to take photos of their sweet little girl.

Jenkeeeez!!!!

Kade: "Mom...if you had another boy, you could name him Jenkins."
Me: "why exactly would I name a kid Jenkins?"
Kade: "Because when he grows up and he gets old, we would call him Old Man Jenkins!"

Too much Scooby Doo eh? 

Another year

Another year has come and gone. What have I really done with it? Well...overall I think 2011 has been a pretty low key year. We started the year off in Texas having gotten the opportunity to spend some time with family and friends.
We came into this year knowing it was going to be one of BIG decisions. Big decisions from 2011 have already laid out a ton of enormous changes to come for our family this year. Mike is set to retire in a VERY short time, upon his retirement, obviously we will be leaving England and heading back to the good old U.S. of A. Where exactly in the USA we will end up is still very much up in the air. No matter where it is, knowing that we can visit friends and family by a simple road trip is far better than what we can do now.
We worried over it quite a bit for a little while, but we've decided that we are just going to go with the flow. No matter where we go, we'll be together. That's all that we are concerned with. :)

As it is, every year I try to make a change. Not so much a resolution...but just a change. Sometimes it is a big one, sometimes it may consist of several. I kind of like the idea of a change a month as I did back in 09. I felt a lot more accomplished and I think I gave myself a lot more to be proud of.
(That would be the year I quit smoking, drinking Dr. Pepper AND eating reese's cups. No it does not add up to 12, I did other things as well but those are all THREE equally as big actually! LOL).
Oh but you see so many folks going on about how they are tired of hearing all the resolutions. For starters...I don't NOT make a change b/c I'm waiting on the New Year, if it needs making I make it. It's just fun to use it as a bump at yourself every once in awhile.
If you are wondering though....I'm still quit smoking, drinking dr. pepper and eating reese's cups. So know that when I make a decision, I generally stick to it. ;)

This year will be no different. Those were things I did for myself. This year though... this year has a theme all its own. I've thought about this one for a bit now and I finally figured it all out. ;) I have yet to really be able to find a word that might fit it appropriately but for the year of 2012 I will change how I give. I know the basis of what I'm after, but the way to truly describe it really escapes me.
Mostly it is based on telling people how I feel. Through speaking with my dr over time, I began to realize that I have become somewhat unaffectionate. Which is really sad as I used to be very affectionate. I am to my kids, there is no doubt of that in any way. I began noticing it though, as I realized that I was uncomfortable even receiving much of a hug from my own husband. As time went on, and this began to nag at me more and more....I started thinking about all the people that I am so blessed to have loving me.
How I shy away from a good well meant embrace. How an arm around my shoulders often makes me cringe on the inside and I feel my body language tense up and instantly try to retreat as quickly as possible.
Even saying "I love you" to anyone beyond my own kids and husband has begun to feel so foreign. Even in text! This is simply unacceptable. it is not me, it is not who I am nor who I want to be. GRANTED... I don't want to be some sappy bawl bag running around hugging everyone.
I have no way of pin-pointing what it is that has caused this decline in spreading my boobie squishes to the masses, but whatever it is, I'll take back over as necessary. :) No doubt.

However, that's still not really the gist of what I'm after. No, basically...I want to make sure that people know how I feel about them. Um, okay correction, I should say I want to make sure that people I LIKE/LOVE know how I feel about them on good terms. Obviously I have no problem stating how I feel when I'm not all that happy with something/someone.

I have already had it happen numerous times, where someone left this world without me at least having done them the favor of letting them know just how special they were to me and what an impact they had on me. Everyone has an impact on me, it's just a matter of how big or small it is I suppose.
So for the year of 2012 I want to change the fact, that I seem to have developed some odd fear to telling people how special they are and making sure they see the gift they share with every person that comes in contact with them and how that snowballs to countless others.

I am not sure if it will be monthly or weekly or which. I just know, that I will let those nearest and dearest and maybe even a few people I've hardly met.... know just how special they are to me.
What party they h ave ultimately played in MY life. We rarely see or are told just how it is, we affect someone...I think it is important to know, just how important you are to someone. Be it friend or family or total stranger. :)

Telling someone that you love them, could very well make their day. Why not give it a try? We'll see who's up first by the end of the week! :)

I hope that everyone had a fabulous and safe New Year if you were out partaking in the festivities! This is going to be a year of HUGE changes!!

A post for boot lovers the world over!!!

First and foremost....
WAIT!!! Don't toss that wrapping paper just yet! Here's a little recycling, DIY post from me. Shock!

Now, as many MAY know, and if you didn't...you will now. I have a problem. It's a love of all things boots. I'm not a shoe whore at all, but man I love me some boots. I must say, however, before I post the photo of my closet that there are no Frye boots in my closet. Most of them are off brand clearance boots. Not all, but most. A couple are gifts <3 and well... whatever, I don't believe in $500 shoes so this is my guilty little pleasure.

Anyway - I hate for my boots to be all laid over. They just look so sad like that. Also, cheap or not, it's just not good for them. If you have shopped around for boot savers, oh my gosh! They are $10 in the states, and I've only found them for 10 GBP here. Do the math, that can add up quick! Have I mentioned I'm cheap? Why yes I am. Therefore, I'm not about to pay that to save all of my boots and make them look happier in the closet.

I had an idea awhile back and my initial idea was using plastic grocery bags. However, you've got to really save a LOT of bags and that sucks. It also gives some Oregonians a heart attack knowing those bags may or may not be made of some kind of oil or some tree-hugger something. Although it is being re-used, it still causes further manufacture of more plastic bags that are bad for the environment. (OMG what has England DONE to me?? haha).

So.....here we go:
How to inexpensively keep your boots in shape AND re-use a few things you've got around the house. :)

***disclaimer. these are just some shots of my boots in my closet that has ugly lighting. i cannot be held responsible for the ugliness of these photos. give me a break. hahaha ***



Do your boots look sad like this?

Hold on to your used wrapping paper. What else are you going to do with it? Burn it? Recycle it? Just toss it in the bin? 

Now you'll need an old tall sock. Being a military spouse, old long socks are plentiful here. How long till Mike is running around looking for a pair of socks I wonder? haha!

By now, I should hope you've figured out where I'm going with this. Stuff sock with ripped up wrapping paper. Ooooooh yeah. I know. I'm freakin smart. ;)

Fit stuffed sock into boot. 

These boots were a good example as they are knee high or over the knee (well for folks with shorter legs than me anyway). So you can see this is great for all lengths. 

And....here you have it. Once I'm all done I will have a closet full of happy boots. Staying in shape, recycling old paper and holey old socks. :0)

Obviously you don't have to wait till Christmas to do that. You can use old newspapers or even inexpensive plain white tissue paper you might find at a craft/dollar store. Obviously there are lots of different things you can use, but softer papers would be better as they will fill it up fuller. :)
There you have it!

Hope everyone is having a great holiday!

xoxox