Motion Life.

Scarlet today: "Dada, why did dinosaurs die?"








And I don't know what Cassidy answered - something brilliant - and then she went to stew on it for several minutes.

Next was, "Dada, do kids die?"

I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my mouth when I overheard this. Cassidy answered her like a true pro. I can't tell you verbatim what he said, because my mind was pretty muddled and that's his conversation with her and not mine, but it was really, really good.

It's been a day of mulling over Scarlet-isms. The morning started with this:

Scarlet: "Why did you wash that pillow?"
Me: "Well..Des peed on it."
Scarlet: "Well, why?"
Me: "Because he tends to pee on things."
Scarlet: "No, what I'm wondering is why you had him on a pillow with no diaper on."
Me: "And that is a GREAT question, my dear."

To defend myself, not that I need to do that, there was an explanation for why I had him near (not on) a pillow with no diaper on. It involved his only ever bad(ish) diaper rash and doctor's advice to have fresh air meet the rash. I guess I didn't realize how much range my son has. I should have learned this long ago from the perfect arc of pee he once aimed from a doctor's scale all the way to...across a hallway. Wait. Why am I talking about Des and his peeing patterns and his rashes?

This has been a Scarlet-mulling day. We had her first parent-teacher conference, and marveled at how it was our first one out of many, many more for both kids. Of course the teachers love Scarlet as much as she loves them. And there's not much that needs to be said specifically. It's mainly that our daughter has grown and they have been watching it for over four months and they have noticed big growing-up type changes. She gains confidence and independence daily. She thrives. Importantly, she doesn't yell at her teachers and she's never said "douche-bag" or "sh*t" at school. Miracle of miracles!

There's still lots of time for that.

Anyway. Last week we went to see a life-size dinosaur exhibit in Springfield. Scarlet was a lot more than a little freaked out at the roaring dinosaurs. Des, he just took in the roaring dinosaurs and the smelly mass of loud people and gave me a series of "WTF" looks. Which you'd expect. So we spent a little time at the exhibit, a lot of time in the open play area after, and a lot of a lot of time in the well-lit lobby towards the end. Those rooms with squares of windows instead of one big window. Patterns. What do you call that? We have it in our house. It's good for catch-lights in the eyes because it shows up as multiple light source reflections. The room was a well-lit dream. The problem is that my camera settings were wrong the whole time. I hate that. I had the focus set for still subjects/objects, rather than moving toddlers. It was all wrong. And yet, my camera's off settings revealed a unique new look at Scarlet. It's enough to make me overlook the under/overexposure.

All I can see is a beautiful girl in motion. She's moving so swiftly that my camera, and my eyes, can barely keep up. That's the way she wants it. And I confess that it was really no accident, unless it was a happy accident. The camera sees what the camera sees. The camera was set for still life, which is a life I barely know. We're all on a motion life setting here.

















And this is what it looks like when a girl in motion doesn't want to go home..

Your Impact Stays On My Mind.

If you say the word "impact" one too may times, it lose its..impact. Not really.

Today I got the chance to tell someone that his words stayed with me for years, and always will. I was a scared new mom, three and a half years ago. My baby hadn't left my side since she was born 12 hours earlier, and she was being wheeled away by a nurse for a quick early morning pediatrician examination. They wanted to let me sleep. Yeah right! I waited anxiously for Scarlet to return, and I was convinced they were going to tell me something was wrong with her. Several hours later, from what it seemed (was really only a few minutes), the examining pediatrician brought her back and told me she was "healthy, vigorous and beautiful." And those words became my Facebook status and they went in the baby book!

The kids go to a practice with several pediatricians and nurses. We like this place because without depending on just one doctor or two, the kids can be seen last minute and at odd times, if need be. Scarlet's "first" doctor, described above, belongs to this practice. Her "second" doctor who discharged her from the hospital with "Enjoy your baby" handwritten in the "Instructions" portion of the discharge paperwork, also belonged to this practice, but has since retired. Scarlet and Des go to other doctors in the office, and they stay with the same ones as consistently as possible. And we love that.

This morning got off to a weird start. After very vivid and strange dreams about many people, Des woke up at 4:00 am for nursing. His breathing sounded hoarse and labored. I didn't panic because he settled back into a silent sleep, and I know I tend to overreact with him and I could almost hear Cassidy's voice say to me, "It's ok. He's ok." So back to sleep we went. And through the busy morning of taking Scarlet to school and getting ready to have new friends over, he kept coughing these weird coughs. Sounded like a seal or dog barking. Some of you may already know what this means. I canceled the plans, picked up Scarlet and took Des to the doctor. Croup is the diagnosis! Mild croup, luckily, with no need for medication.

The doctor we saw today, at this last minute sick child appointment, was the first doctor to ever examine Scarlet! I hadn't seen him since. He told me I looked vaguely familiar. I told him about what he said to me, three and a half years ago, and about how I wrote it in her baby book and it made me happier than anything could. He thanked me for telling him that.

Then I thanked him for thanking me. It was a very thankful appointment.

He told me how important it was to see Des acting happy and normal..ish, and not distressed. So I told him about 4:00 am and how after hoarse breathing, I decided to co-sleep with Des just to keep an eye on him for the remaining few hours of sleep we had. And once he figured out he was next to me, it became a party to him. He started making funny faces and blowing raspberries, and my personal favorite - talking with his tongue hanging out of his mouth so that he sounded like a cartoon character. I think to have that kind of elevated sense of humor, at seven months old, and at 4:00 am, you have to be feeling somewhat all right. So now we wait for this illness to pass. I hope it's not a brutal one..



(Ever The Thinker)

Oh, and speaking of impact but not the kind you feel the need to share with the given person, I had so many vivid dreams last night that I found myself clamping my mouth shut while passing other parents and their children in the preschool parking lot. Something tells me that at eight in the morning, with cranky kids in tow, no one should have to hear that weird mom (me) say, "Oh, hi! Totally had a dream about you last night. Everything was great. Let's have a playdate." Luckily I have a filter, sometimes. I'm just always curious to know that if someone was in my dream, was I in their dream too?


Impact.





It's what it's all about sometimes.

The Witching Hour.

I once read somewhere that between 3:00 - 4:00 am is the worst time of night for people. It's the time of night, they say, in which nightmares creep up, fevers spike, stomachaches hit, and our thoughts are our darkest. I made the mistake of googling (witching hour) and there are all sorts of paranormal and religious beliefs about 3:00 am out there. One guy in a forum said that it's when he contemplates the fate of the world..and I think I might agree. Daylight and non-3:00-4:00 am night is filled with thoughts of kids, food, money, laundry, Cassidy, work, family, friends, driving, coffee, music, more.

Those thoughts are the surface of the world.

And in contrast, are the thoughts in the witching hour of the night. They are the depth of the world. Literally. Figuratively. I may contemplate the fate of the world myself at 3:00 am. When I'm barely breaking the surface of waking, but I'm aware enough to remember, I may think about meteors and mortality. Undiscovered ocean creatures. Aging. Loss. Repetition.

I may think about being stuck here. There. Anywhere.

The witching hour was always my most feared time of night. (morning?) It's when, during a heartbreak, I would wake up curled on the couch and still in my clothes. I would look in the mirror at a face I didn't recognize and I would yearn to wake up from a nightmare that was a reality. A reality that was a nightmare. And every next morning, daylight would make the heartbreak (or loss, or whatever) look, while not all better, certainly more manageable. Until time ticked by and healed, and eventually my witching hours would be spent fully asleep, or in the company of a new love. An old love returning.

What's funny to me is that my witching hours are often spent awake these days. It's funny to me that I used to sleep all night, every night. I think that a lot. Do people really stay asleep all night?! And yet I know I once did. Inconceivable. I'm sure I woke up during the night, but the difference is that I was able to go back to sleep without having to fully wake up. There were no Scarlet nightmares or bathroom breaks. There were no Des night feedings. And while I soon need to stop feeding him in the middle of the night, and while I soon will stop feeding him in the middle of the night..well..it's only once a night and he's just so convincing. As I said to his pediatrician, while pointing out Desmond's irresistible face and huge eyes, "Would you really say 'no' to this face in the middle of the night? Really?" And he replied with, "I probably wouldn't."

So not every night, but on many nights, I'm amazed at the amount of time I spend with myself, in my own head. Fully awake. Between 3:00 and 4:00 am. And you know what? It's not so bad. Maybe it's the being fully awake, and not just in the strange limbo between the waking life and the dreaming life. Fully awake. Controlling my own thoughts and choosing to read photography forums on a smartphone or just listen to Des breathe and nurse himself back to sleep. He sighs and smiles, kicks his legs once or twice. Then he's still and asleep. So I follow him back down and it's peaceful. Unexpectedly.

Maybe it's different these days because this is the face that looks out at the moonlight with me. Every night:



And there's really nothing "witching" about this. Grounding, maybe. It's now my "grounding hour."

Blue Monday.

I think Scarlet might be a wizard.

Yesterday at several times during the day, she appeared quite sick. Her face would drain of color, she'd complain of full body pain and "boogers" and exhaustion, and she even did the dreaded clutching of stomach and saying, "Uh oh, I don't feel so good!" In which I would think vomiting was imminent and I would run out of the room and out of the house screaming my head off. Just kidding. I would back away slightly, though. Nothing like giving your kid a complex during a stomachache.

Each time though, she would recover within minutes and say, "I feel better now. Can I have a treat?"

Today she really does seem to be fine. Slightly snotty, sure, but I think most of us are. Her preschool has some raging viruses going around. Yesterday another mom was commenting on how big my baby is getting and when I asked her where her baby was she said, "Oh, he's home with his father. They're both getting over stomach viruses. My daughter had it first, but she seems fine so she's here today." I actually crossed the street to get away from her. I'm so awesome! No really. I mean I did but it was disguised as me going to my car on the other side of the road. I had also heard raging coughs in the classroom. Scarlet either has an immune system of steel, like many of us, or she is a wizard as I originally suspected.

When I was a kid, I could use "mind over matter" at a nearly 100% success rate. Of course back then I thought I was a wizard using magic, but in reality, I either have an iron-clad immune system, or the power of the mind is as strong as I have been told. I had school years in which I used every sick day they gave us, faking each time, and I had years of perfect attendance. Both were completely healthy years. It was just the difference between liking my teacher/friends/classmates or not. There were also some years I got the flu on Halloween and Christmas and Valentine's Day. Those were times that my "mind over matter" superpowers didn't gain momentum. Even superheroes, and wizards, need the occasional fever.

I think it has something to do with heating our super brains to a certain temperature. Or something.

That was a bit of a tangent. She amazes me every day. We're shut-ins today, though, because of the cold and the fear of illness. And I've been hesitating to admit this here for some reason, but I have been feeling incredibly crappy this week. Not physically, luckily. Emotionally and mentally. I was reading somewhere that the Monday of this week is called "Blue Monday" because many see it as the most depressing day of the year. A bit of crap, yes, but it is often the time of great snowstorms and below freezing temperatures. Also, winter isn't even half over. Also, in my case I feel completely hopeless about..everything. I know it's passing because it always is, but I feel pretty chronically stuck. This week. I hope I un-stuck myself soon, in every aspect. Career/parenting/love/friendship/family/winter sucks. Calgon, take me away! Please.

Also, the article told me that my case of the "Blue Mondays" would go away shortly. Easy as pie, right?

Working on it.

In photography, and everywhere, there are cool shades and warm shades. Sometimes people's skin will have a touch of blue, or a touch of magenta (somehow?) or a touch of green. And it's sorta your duty to maybe take out some strong color casts, although if they are there to begin with in real life, not sure why you'd want to change the color of someone's skin.

I digress again. Regardless of Desmond's skin color in these photos, which to me doesn't matter as long as he looks like himself, I found these photos to be "warm." It's probably the brown couch, the yellow shirt, the slight highlights in his hair, his incredibly warm and kind eyes. He loves me. I can tell. And these "warm" photos make me feel warmer. And lucky:

The Time Has Come.

The time has come to announce yourself, lurkers!!

Just kidding. National De-Lurking Week, which is totally a real thing yes, already happened and I missed it.

The real time has come to announce my photography website: Click HERE for my awesome website. It was made with intuition and skill by Two Clever Sisters, LLC.And if you're so inclined, click HERE for my Facebook fanpage.

I'm pretty excited, and pretty scared. Now there is nothing to stop me from going out there and getting business. Without a website I felt pretty silly doing so because an online portfolio is very important these days, however, I didn't want to get too comfortable hiding behind my "I have no website yet!" excuse. Now I have a website. I have a beautiful iMac. I have updated photo editing software. My camera is perpetually charged. I shoot only in manual, finally. My lenses are strong.

I am ready.

Maybe it sounds so petty, or selfish, but I want my kids to know what I am. Mainly, I want to know what I am so that's a nice bonus, but when people ask Scarlet what her mom does, I've heard her say, "She takes pictures." And of course I do that anyway, with or without a business, but her understanding of it will grow. Maybe one day when she looks around and realizes that not all of her friends grew up with cameras in their faces at all times. Good thing I've never used flash.

I'm excited right now. And petrified. Doing a happy dance, though. So is she. We're both spinning here.


















P.S. If you are a lurker, come out come out one day! As far as I know, only my mom reads my blog. De-lurk!

Every Now And Then I Fall Apart.

This post is actually not about falling apart. This post is about the occasional chance to put yourself back together. It's just that I was going to call it "Every Now And Then" and when I started to write it out, I couldn't help singing the lyrics to "Total Eclipse of the Heart." And then I thought, "Well heck. It's true. Every now and then I do fall apart. Don't we all?"

So I let the title stick. And I like it a lot.

The original beginning of this post is that every now and then, Cassidy and I get the chance to be two parents to just one baby. And I'm not even talking about being parents to just one kid. I mean, specifically, that we get a whole day alone with Des and we enjoy the more calm and natural flow that just one baby entails. This doesn't mean that I don't miss Scarlet to the point of near-tears. I always do. It's this maternal paradox that I suffer from. I always want a break from one or both of the kids, but if I get that, I miss them like crazy. It's that push/pull that I imagine will follow me in life. Maybe it will get easier as I learn to let them go more. And maybe, shudder, it will get more difficult as I learn to let them go more.

What I learned yesterday, that I constantly forget and then relearn, is that Des is not a whiny baby. He is a very mellow baby, as he has been since birth. What happens in the face of raising him against a very opinionated and awesome and high-pitched older sister, is that his needs are rarely met first these days. So yes, he does sometimes get hungry or tired or cold to the point of whining. I never let it get to screaming! However, whining. And when Scarlet spent all of Saturday at her grandparents' house, we got to enjoy meeting Desmond's needs not when they needed to be met, but at an intuitive second before. It was such a calm pattern. I even got to spend a day using one of those overachieving schedules that I make fun of, only because I'm not-so-secretly jealous that I can't seem to follow one with him. He clearly wears it well.



It's not that the early days of parenting are easy. It's just that when it's years later and your sleeping baby is now a loud three-year-old, and money and time and patience are shorter, and you also have another baby..well..I think back to the days of just Scarlet and I glorify it as the easiest time of our lives. It wasn't easy by any means. It was a nice time, though.

And right now is nice in its own way. Like when Scarlet came home, and the reunion was oh so sweet:



I have to apologize that he is drooling in just about every picture I have of him these days. No teeth have broken through, and since Scarlet didn't get her first one until 12 months, I have stopped looking for his teeth. I give up. They will come..