bunch of dips
shop love
If you have any interest in shopping local, this is an awesome and easy way to do it. It's half and hour door to door for me to get there, and the distance is nothing when such a warm welcome is waiting. I'd go every day if I could.
On my last stop in I took photos of all the gals...look for those shots on the blog next week!
winds-day
We're all feeling a bit fractious today.
Unexpectedly, I had the chance to catch up with two dear, but far away friends yesterday. (Look at me, all phone-talkey and social.) Despite the delightful conversations, they are both hemmed in by worry and sadness. And late last night, an email from my mom about her sister, my only aunt, dealing with her own health worries. (I'll email you later today, Mom.)
It's a lot. All around us. I had been thinking a good bit, even before a class started making me more reflective, about changes I've been wanting to make for our family. I'm not going to lie. It's been a rocky autumn around here. Windy and fractious. Those changes, mostly little but for a greater good, seem terribly necessary. But what days like yesterday remind me is that the most important work I can do is to be still and listen. To try to hold the worry lightly, both for myself and others. And to pay attention. Both inside my house and out.
balance
I think part of why I've been feeling blue lately is because I'm a more social animal than that.
sneak peak :: alberto parada @ simply selma's
Things are clearer now for me that weren't before.
Bliss, actually.
I don't get out much. That's not a slam on Marianne or Meg and April (the other owners) and especially not Alberto and his wife Ashley, who were absolutely delightful. It's just that my work is mainly solitary, and I do it from home. So to spend the day with these lovely people surrounded by their laughter and their vibrant personalities was pretty much heaven to me. Oh, all that jewelry. And take pictures of it all? For me, it just doesn't get much better.
I'm still editing like crazy, and the photos are really Selma's to share once the web site launches. I may post a few more here though, if they let me.
pot pie
one
Remember this baby? She turned one this month! A whole year on the planet!
wedded
Ben's mom caught the boquet!
Happy couple. Happy family.
not on the list
I did not put "getting a concussion" on our list of things to do this summer. Turns out I should have. Yesterday, in our familiar flurry to get out the door (Callum has tennis camp at his school this week), I slipped on some water on a tile floor and hit my head on a brick wall going down. As you can see, I hit some other things too. (That's an ice pack on the huge lump on my shin, by the way.)
Everything went dark for a second, and Callum tells me I said, "whoa." My immediate thought when I realized what happened was that somehow I needed to get Callum to camp. It was time to leave right now. Funny how your mind shifts to the important stuff, hmm? Poor Callum called Neel and helped me get upstairs to change clothes (I'd landed in the dogs' water dish) before cleaning up the mess, and I learned yet again that sometimes what is planned is not what is meant to be.
Neel got Callum off to camp, and I spent the day hunkered down, feeling queasy and sore. And still it was a good day. I was well tended to. My friend Jean, who had been outside when Neel came to get Callum, called to check in on me and brought me Tylenol for all my aches and pains. (Apparently ibuprofin, which my scientist husband had suggested I take, could cause bleeding in my brain...) I checked in with Catherine, whose baby I was supposed to watch for a bit yesterday, and she promptly hugged me and sent me back to bed. I called my friend Beck to ask the favor which we'd jovially declared we'd never need. Could she pick Callum up from camp for me? Sure enough, even though she wasn't feeling great herself, she was right there. Later that afternoon, at Callum's request, Nurse Rebecca came by with the diagnosis, advice and sweet concern.
So really, what more could a woman ask for (besides not to have a big lump on her head or the lingering headache)? When I needed it, everyone around me, all my dear dear loved ones stepped in...all I had to do was ask. I'm not good at the asking part. I don't like to do it one bit. But any and all of these things I'd do ten million times over for any of these guys, and there's no greater gift than knowing that they'd do and have done the same for me.
In the car to get Callum (I rode along; I just didn't want to drive.), I said to Beck, "Thank you SO much for helping me out today."
"It's no problem," she told me.
"I know it's not," I said, "but that doesn't mean I'm not grateful."
So here we are, sore as all heck, but not as queasy. Neel woke me (per Rebecca's instruction) a few times last night, and I think I'll live. Feeling luckier than before.
cheers, dears
And that was just the first day!
We had a great dinner that first night at one of my favorite places in the world where for the first time I tried and very much liked a French 75. And after breakfast the next day, the boys and girls split up. One set of us going to Busch Gardens and the other set to the Williamsburg Spa. See if you can guess who went where.
At Busch Gardens, we the guys rode every ride, many times over. At the Spa, we had scrubs and massages and lunch and pedicures. And when we weren't separated by treatments, we talked and talked and talked. Afterward, Seamane and I had a cocktail at the Williamsburg Inn, and sitting on their gorgeous terrace, we talked some more. People, we had years to catch up on. I can't even tell you.
We regrouped for dinner at a restaurant that has been recommended to us many times over. I tried to get reservations on Open Table, and the site said no times were available for the next eight weeks! At dinner that first night, Neel stopped in and got reservations for 6:30 the next night, just like that! No problem.
Appetizers (tuna), the most scrumptious fish for dinner...I had scallops, Neel had grouper and Seamane and Rob had melt-in-your-mouth salmon. Callum was polite and pleasant and earned high marks from our server. It was a near-perfect dinner.
We need to see them again, and soon. And next time, I'll take more pictures.
this little light of mine
Who knew?
It was a wonderful day. Every minute of it. I felt so blessed to be included, not just in the day but as part of this wonderful family. The whole ceremony and service was so moving, really. A special way to kick off Father's Day.
weekend in pictures
the happiest days
...are the days that babies are born. I think that's a quote from Miss Melanie in Gone with the Wind. I'm too tired to go and look it up. Let me clarify. I did not have a baby. My friend Catherine did!
Many years ago, in another lifetime, I was a professional childbirth educator and doula. If you're not up to clicking on the link, doulas provide labor support services to couples during (and after) their birth experience. Neel and I had an amazing doula at Callum's birth (and an amazing birth, as well), and after that I was caught by the birthing bug. I like works in progress, and, let's face it, I like drama too. What can be more dramatic than the day that a little baby is born?
For various reasons, my life shifted away from labor support when we moved from California (where Callum was born), but I've been known to come out of retirement a time or two to do a brush-up childbirth class for some friends or stand by the side of a couple as their baby comes into the world.
Four years ago, when Tyler and Catherine had Elliot, they asked me to be with them for what turned out to be one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, and ever since then Catherine has said she wanted me "on the books" for when the time came around for the next one to arrive.
That time was yesterday.
If you're not so into birth and birth stories, you may want to skip this part, but I'll be brief. I understood what Catherine (and Tyler too, really) felt, about needing me there, because I've felt it too. That, "I couldn't have done it without you feeling." But truly, she did all of the work. I was just there to show her what a wonderful job she was doing. If I can get soapboxey for just a moment, I'll say that while I have opinions about ways in which the labor process just "works," and maybe even works better, unless it's actually my birth, it's not my birth. I have no right to impose my judgment on how any woman chooses to experience her child's labor and birth. As a doula, my role was to advocate for you. To support you and to create a safe and nurturing, intimate environment for a couple to go through the process of birthing their baby. Catherine wanted as little intervention as possible in her labor, and my role was to support her in getting that.
She'd done it before with Elliot, and, with me there or not, I had no doubt that she could do it again. Of course she did. She and Tyler make an amazing team. He may want to crack a joke, but he knows not to, and he'd do anything for her. You can just see how proud he is of her. He should be. I am.
Many times I've grown close to my clients. Sometimes in situations that were too tragic to comprehend. Sometimes I was lucky enough to be at the births of friends' children. Those are the best. But this? This was extra special. Catherine is right next door to me, and we've grown very close, especially in the four years since Elliot's birth. Especially in the last weeks of this pregancy. She may have felt like she needed me to do this thing, but I was so honored to have been asked to be there. This may be the last baby I see come into the world in such a way. I can't imagine a better way to do it.
And that little guy? Not so little! 9 pounds, 13 oz. Mom had no meds. She's a rockstar.
getting our irish on
selma's
I hope you enjoy the photos I took, and if you're in the 757, stop in sometime. You won't regret it. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to walk out with my wallet intact each time I'm there. (Last time I just locked it in the trunk of my car!)
fountain soda
When we went for lunch at the boulangerie (without poor Violet) last week, I relented and let Callum get a Coke. It's a rare treat for him. We don't keep it in the house, and he's rarely allowed to order it. This carmely brown elixir leads you down a dangerous path, trust me. I know whereof I speak. Coke and I go a long way back.
As my migraines increased, Coke became one of my comforts. Medicinal. Never as good out of the can, but when Callum was little, I'd buy two cases each week to keep in the fridge. I can't tell you how many I went through in a day. If my head started to hurt, I'd reach first for a Coke before any meds. I gained weight. I felt sluggish. But staying home with a toddler can do that to you too, I suppose.
I tried to quit. Lasted a few weeks and with one headache I would be back at it. Willpower? Not so much. Finally, in August of 2002, I gave it up. Went cold turkey, just like that. Bye-bye Coke. I didn't get the withdrawal headache and irritability as much as a longing for my friend. Pretty pathetic, huh? But this time it stuck. And I haven't had one since. I recognize that I was seriously addicted. Around the nine month point, I had a "using" dream. I woke up from dreams of drinking a Coke and thought, "What a stupid move, Lauren. You went nine whole months and had to go and have a stupid Coke." Guess what? It was just a dream. How crazy is that?
I've been clean almost nine years now!
It's recognizing the real hold that drink had over me that gives me caution with Callum's soda drinking. We were a no soda family for the longest time. Then we eased up and let him get a Sprite every so often when we go out to dinner. We still don't keep any in the house. And we won't. But you know what? He's eleven. He's a kid. He likes soda. And he's so sweet and conscientious. If he's offered a Coke at his friend's house, he'll call and ask for permission. Of course I say yes. I don't want it to become forbidden fruit. It isn't. Moderation is the name of the game for us.
I will admit to having a sip or two of Callum's Coke when we've been out. A sip or two won't kill me. (That day at lunch, I thought, "Oh, I'll have to ask Callum for a sip before it's gone." And by the time I remembered, he was down to the ice.) It tastes okay. Not nearly as good as my memory of how it tasted.
Peter's soup
showered
It was a perfectly lovely afternoon. Poor Catherine didn't feel well, but we still managed to laugh and laugh and laugh. I hoped she felt a little better. And celebrated as the wonderful mama that she is. New babies are pretty special.
photography class
By the end of the first class, we needed to come up with an idea for the project we'd work on for the duration of the course. It took me through my drive home after class (I'm not so good at doing things on time, I guess.), but I landed on what I wanted to do. For the next seven weeks, I'm going to focus on photographing relationships. I feel comfortable catching spontaneous moments. I have no problem snapping a shot of some kids in our front yard and printing it off to give to a neighbor. I'm hoping to work toward more portrait work. That's a challenge to me. Not stiff, but what our teacher calls "planned spontaneity." Each week Jackie, (she's our teacher) will give us an assignment (this past week was "dramatic lighting," for example), but for me, the assignments will fall under the theme of photographing relationships.
You'll see some of those photos here, I imagine. And a lot you won't. I can't say I'm not a little nervous. But excited too. And how about that relationship in that picture up there? What more potent relationship than one that is just beginning, for everyone. Brother or sister, who knows?
gifted
