Project MOM, a photo project

Heart. ©2009 mike f leonen. All rights reserved. Available for purchase. $18 personal use.

I am starting a photo project, Project MOM—a free offer from me to photograph 12 moms and their families. Put simply, it's a free family photo session.

Each session is fun and casual, not formal. The idea is to come out with magazine-style images to tell each mom's story—your story.

For details, see Project MOM.

If you are interested or have questions, send me an email. Let's talk about possible themes for your photo session. Then we can schedule the session this October—or at a date convenient for you and your family.

For now, Project MOM is open only to moms and their families who are in or near Seattle (or to those who plan to visit Seattle or nearby areas in the next month or two). It's a first-come-first ... well, shoot basis. 

The last day to schedule a photo session is October 31, 2009. The session could take place any day from October to December 2009.

It'll be fun. I promise.

Update, as of October 6, 2009: Only 4 sessions are available. I've responded to all inquiries I have so far received October 6. If I somehow missed yours, please let me know.

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Three things I remember from Grade 1

Ticklish. Illustration by Mike F Leonen. ©2009 mike f leonen. All rights reserved.

Three things I remember when I was in Grade 1—

• To enter Grade 1, my teacher asked me to touch my left ear with my right hand, making sure my right arm was passing above my head. If I can do it, I'm allowed to enter. If not, I was supposed to go back to Kindergarten.
• My best friend in Grade 1 and I formed a business partnership. We sold candies for 5 cents each. We sold everything within the hour and declared ourselves successful. The candies cost us 25 cents each.
• In Grade 1, I proposed marriage to a classmate. She turned me down.

How about you? What could you remember?

By the way, if you are from or near Seattle (or planning to visit Seattle or nearby areas in the next month or two), let me know through email. You might be interested in a photo project, Project MOM.

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New photo gallery—End of Summer

I put up a new photo gallery, End of Summer. I appreciate a visit—and do let me know what you think.

Also—

1. If you haven't done so, come look at my illustrations
2. If you need family photos retouched, let me know
   
3. If you need family photos taken, send me an email.

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Illustrations

Finally, after weeks (or is it months?) of promising my wife to do so, my illustrations are online. It's still beta, a fancy computer term that means—

1. I'm not sure if you'd see my illustrations properly
2. I'm not sure if the site would crash
3. It's still incomplete

I'd appreciate a visit at Mike F Leonen Illustrations.

And do tell others about it. Please. 

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Rock, paper, scissors

On the drive back home from eating dinner out, my 6-year old and 4-year old decided to play the classic game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

"Rock, paper, scissors," they said.

My 4-year old showed all his fingers.

"Paper," he said.

My 6-year old showed his thumb.

"What's that?" my 4-year old asked.

"God," my 6-year old said. "I win."

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Playing chess

I teach my 6-year old how to play chess. I used to be a tournament player. But like any other parent, I sometimes let my 6-year old win—to give him confidence, to reinforce his love for the game.

Or so I thought.

"So do you like playing chess?" I overheard my wife ask my 6-year old one night. Earlier, we played and I let him win.

"I do," my 6-year old said.

"At first I thought playing chess is hard, though," my 6-year old added.

"Why?" my wife asked.

"Because I thought you use your brain to play chess," he said. "I don't and I can still beat Daddy."

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My kids say

Taste it before before you like it, say my kids.

When to say it? Say it before your kid gets a bowlful of peas for dinner and, after the first bite, wouldn't touch it anymore. 

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Daddy

For some reasons I've been spending the last few days remembering my father. I never knew him. He died when I was 11 months old.

I do know that the person in the aging black-and-white photo displayed back home is my father. He's bald. So am I.

One time, during my darkest moment, I decided to ... well, test God's omnipotence. It was way past midnight. Outside, it was a full moon and rain drizzled a little. Inside, the lights were turned off.

I knelt down and prayed.

"Dear Lord," I said. "I will close my eyes and count to ten. After ten, I will open my eyes, turn around and please, please dear Lord, let my father appear before me so I could ask for guidance."

So I closed my eyes and counted.

Then I turned around.

My father wasn't there.

That was 20 years ago.

Today, I remember that time. Good thing God decided against my prayer. If He did not, my hair would have jumped so high I wouldn't have what little hair remain in my head today.

And, yes. I believe an angel is watching over me. Can't talk to that angel but I hope she'll never give up on me.

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Smart mind

My 3-year old misbehaved one time while we were getting ready to pick up my 6-year old from kindergarten. He won't put on his socks. He won't put on his shoes.

So I did what any sane parent will do in similar situations. I threatened him.

"If you don't put on your socks and shoes right now I will leave without you," I said with a firm voice.

My 3-year old looked at me. I looked at him.

"But Daddy," my 3-year old said. "You can't leave without me."

"Why not?" I asked, almost in a scream.

My 3-year old pointed at me and said, "Because you need me to go to the HOV lane. Otherwise, you'll be stuck in traffic."

Smarty-pants.

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The boss

I teach my 6-year old and 3-year old to call me The Boss—and they do. It makes me feel powerful, makes me feel in charge. 

At least until one afternoon.

I told my kids to clean up the playroom, putting my 6-year old in charge. 

"You're the boss," I told him.

A minute goes by. Then another.

"I'll do most of the cleaning," I overheard my 6-year old tell my 3-year old. "You only need to do little ones."

"Why?" my 3-year old asked.

"Because I'm the boss," my 6-year old said. "The boss does most of the cleaning."

Hmp.

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