savoring motherhood

I did all the right things. I read all the books. I watched all the videos. I took all the classes. I went to prenatal yoga classes religiously, took walks with my husband, and daydreamed with him about how we were going to have the “happiest baby on the block.” I savored every minute of my pregnancy and was excited to do the same with our newborn.

We were ready. Or so we thought.

Then she arrived and everything we thought we knew flew out the window. Night was day and day was night. I felt as if the life I once knew was a distant memory and now I was navigating new and very foreign territory. I wouldn’t have traded my new life for the old one, but those early days were hard. Very hard.

Several weeks after Sadie was born, I realized that I had been in a deep fog. While I was wallowing in the exhaustion, she was growing and changing. And I had missed it.

Yes, this has been one of the most difficult times in my life, but I don’t want to lose sight of how wondrous and amazing it is. I want to savor it because it will be gone before I know it.

Never in my life have I been so aware of the passage of time. Becoming a mother has amplified my need to preserve memories. At seven weeks old, I am floored by how fast Sadie is growing. Sometimes, it feels like she changes from minute to minute. She’ll wake up from a nap and I swear she’s gained three pounds. Every morning, I wake up to find a new baby.  

And so I do what I always do when I want to savor a moment in time: I pick up my camera. And when I do, I see for the first time what has been there all along: chubby hands, tiny ruffles, soft skin, itty-bitty shoes, little toes, wise eyes, first smiles, and a whole lot of love.

Yes, in the topsy-turvy life with a newborn, my camera helps me savor the simple moments and remember what is most important.

Share with us the kinds of moments you are savoring this season.

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Darrah Parker is giving away one spot in the Slice of Life Project, a 6-week photography e-course that will help you savor the details of your everyday life. Leave a comment for a chance to win a spot in the winter session, starting February 6.

For more information about Darrah, visit her website. For more information about her e-course, visit the Slice of Life Project web page.

balance

In my family, I fill a number of roles.  They include, in no particular order, the role of primary caregiver, wife, mother, friend, housekeeper, bookkeeper, librarian, storyteller, nurse, educator, cheerleader, and comedian. I have to put on my pants and fill the role of democrat, republican, and independent.  I am a chef, artist,  singer/songwriter, engineer, seamstress, stylist, decorator, journalist…

The list goes on.

Finding a balance between all of these roles may be one of the biggest challenges in my life, aside from trying how to fix a hole in the soft organza fabric that details the 15 princess dresses that are taking over my dining room table.  Not to mention trying to figure out how to get my 3 year old to eat.  Or sleep.  Or stop screaming all the time, especially when the baby is sleeping.  And to my 4 year old? No, I have no idea where the warthog toy is that you haven’t played with in 2 years but are suddenly obsessed with finding so stop asking me before my head explodes from repeating myself.

It’s all about balance, but how do you find that balance?

For me, it is all about moderation.  In regards to photography, and filling the role of the journalist, I find that I need to allow some moments to pass by, unrecorded. Picking up my camera was one of the most significant choices that I’ve made in my life.  Since then, I’ve taken thousands upon thousands of images.  It has become a part of who I am, and it has made birthday and holiday shopping for me incredibly easy.

I often need to remind myself, however, that my camera is an extension of who I am, and I cannot allow it to singularly define who I am (though it certainly does contribute to that definition). 

I think (I hope) that we all have moments that we would just like to leave our cameras at home.  Times that we just want to live in the moment and not be the one to document it. 

I try to have an ongoing dialog with myself, and when I wake up in the morning I promise myself that I will be there, and be present in my life and the lives of my husband and children.  I will use my camera with intention, and that moderation will allow me to find the balance I need to not only enjoy the time with my family, but it will save me from the guilt and regret of not getting any shots along the way.

How do you moderate yourself?  What sort of dialog do you use?  How do you come to the understanding that sometimes it is ok to leave your camera at home? That sometimes it is ok to allow the moment to pass, unrecorded?

Image and words courtesy of the lovely Meg Fahrenbach of Tea & Brie.

And hey! Don't forget that we're giving away some cool MOO products and a Lensbaby here this week! Awesome.

Notes from the Middle

It’s 6:33.  In the morning, not the evening.  And I'm sitting at my computer.  I’m not usually up this early by choice, but it’s the first morning after camp and something is different.  I’m different.  That’s the wonderful thing about experiences like this.  They change you.  They make you jump out of bed by choice at an ungodly (to me) hour of the morning to write things down, because you don’t want to forget…  

Most mornings, I hear the door of the boys’ room open and realize it’s still dark outside.   My first thought of the day is “It’s time to get up already?  Why couldn’t they sleep just a little longer so mommy could get a little more rest?”  Then comes the part where they climb into the bed, get under the covers, all poky knees and sharp elbows.  The bed immediately shrinks to the size of a postage stamp.  They cuddle close, searching for my body heat because the trek from their bed to mine has left their feet cold (very, very cold) and my skin is oh, so warm.  As they get comfortable, I feel the taking of me begin.  The taking that happens when you’re a parent to young children and your needs don’t come first anymore.  I guess this is what they meant when they said “parenting is the most self-less act in the world.  Don't do it until you're ready to give all of you to your kids”.

But today.  Today is different.  I’ve been away from them for 3 mornings. I’ve been inspired by the amazing women at Camp and their practice of shooting through gratitude, shooting with intention and shooting what you love.  I’ve been thinking about my passion for shooting life as it is right now, in this very moment.  I’ve been thinking about story and how even that seems too big for me.  Stories have a beginning, a middle and an end.  But that is too long for me, too drawn out.  Because sometimes, when I think about the whole story, it overwhelms me.  It reminds me that the BEGINNING of the week started off frenzied, with too many things on my to do list.  And I immediately just want to get to the END so that I can finally exhale.  What I’m finally realizing (thank you camp sisters) is that I leave no room in my life for the MIDDLE.  The right here, the right now.  When I’m focused on the END and just want to get there, I miss everything in the MIDDLE.  It's all a chore and I just want to get it over with so I can get to the END, to my prize.  I know in my heart that the END never really comes.  There's always a new BEGINNING, and a new END.  But isn’t the MIDDLE where the good stuff happens?  Where the joy is?  What am I missing by ignoring the MIDDLE?

Making this connection, right now at 7:07 in the morning, is blowing my mind.  My Mind = Blown.

This morning, when I heard the boys’ door open, a small smile crept onto my face.  I heard their quick, heavy footsteps and felt warm.  Warmer than my blankets could ever make me feel.  When they cuddled into me, I reached out and pulled them even closer.  I welcomed the feel of their skin against mine, regardless of how cold it was.  I listened as their breathing became rhythmic.  I breathed them in and wondered how I could capture this moment with my camera.  How I could remember that this morning, instead of thinking about how tired I was from getting to bed late and how many things there were on my to do list, I thought only about the good in that single moment in time.  And how blissful it felt.  How grateful I felt for my life.  For that moment.  In the MIDDLE.  

That is my passion.  Capturing the stuff in the MIDDLE.  The stuff that gets lost when you think about the BEGINNING and the END of the story.

That is what I learned at Camp and I don't want to forget.

What about you? Share a glimpse of what it looks like to be present and content in the middle?

Image and post Camp Shutter Sisters story courtesy of the awesome Wendy Tienken.

the lost years

 

After watching the Kelly Corrigan video about capturing life's everyday moments, I realized that digital photography has changed the way I document our lives.  I can scan through thousands of digital images of a freckly 12 year old, crazy dogs, and weekend adventures in Florida. 

But there is a glaring hole in the family story that makes me teary-eyed.  Like most of you, I missed capturing all these same activities with my older child.  We have an occasional photo from an old film camera or school photos but that is the extent of it.  No heartwarming shots of silly toothless grins, skateboarding with friends, or camping at the ranch.

I am now making it a point to seek out moments with my him before he heads off to college in January.  Quietly, I snap away as he strums his guitar, plays the piano, or falls asleep on the sofa.  I can not fill in all the lost years but as I hold these photos in my hands, I can see the little boy that he once was and the man he is becoming.

Take a few moments today to capture your loved ones as they go about their day.  Don't let even the simplest of moments pass you by.  You won't regret it.

We are giving away one $100 Paper Coterie gift card EVERY SINGLE DAY of September to one of YOU! All you have to do is share a comment each day before midnight EST for your chance to win that day's random drawing. Be sure to leave links to your story shots.

first day of school

Whether they just turned 4 and are starting preschool, or are young adolescents about to experience emotional and physical transitions, the first day of school is always a special moment for children and parents. Documenting this day every year helps me let go of all feelings of anxiety and fear, and just bask in gratitude, hope and pride.

How about you? Do you capture the first day of school of your kids? If yes, share your image with us today. And if you're not a parent, please share a story of one of your first days of school in the comment section below. (On my first day of school, I forgot my bag at home. Almost 30 years later, I still wake up in sheer panic in the middle of the night the day before school starts!)

We are giving away one $100 Paper Coterie gift card EVERY SINGLE DAY of September! Share a comment each day before midnight EST for your chance to win that day's random drawing. Be sure to leave links to your story shots.