What if I had thinner ankles?
Would all my problems be solved?

What if I wore an armful of bracelets and scarves in my hair?
Would I be happier?

What if I said yes instead of no?
Would I be there instead of here?

What if I did yoga every morning?
Would I feel more at peace?

What if I threw away the scale?
Would I feel thinner?

What if I wrote the truth?
Would I feel liberated?

What if I asked less questions?
Would I have more answers?

* * * * * *

So many questions. I’m always on a quest to feel happier/more peaceful/more fulfilled. But maybe the questions themselves are what keep me from those feelings. Or maybe by saying them out loud, I am setting them free. Yes, that’s what I choose to believe. And with that, I’m off to toss my scale in the trash.

Exactly two years later, we met for our second photo session together (you can see our first one here). Sure, I love Jen’s goofy side (she was totally game for climbing up a lifeguard chair that was surrounded by geese). But perhaps what I love most about Jen is her depth and authenticity. She’s got soul. It’s in her eyes, in her words, and hopefully in these photos.

Enjoy!

{photo by my talented hubby}

I recently read somewhere (I don’t remember where) that time spent on self-care is not wasted time. After almost a year and a half of devoting my life to another person, this has become my new mantra. Or “mom-tra”, so to speak.

The first time I left the house without Sadie, I went to my favorite coffee shop. I had spent countless hours there before she was born – writing, daydreaming, casually sipping soy lattes to my heart’s content. This time felt very different. I can’t remember how old Sadie was at the time – maybe a month or two old. I hadn’t been by myself in that long. I sat in the cafe, staring at my latte, and felt completely lost, unsure of how to relax. I distinctly remember feeling like I was missing something – like I’d lost a limb. I’d been attached to Sadie for almost a year. No wonder I was floundering, searching for air. It was then that I realized that I needed her as much as she needed me. It seemed like I was giving so much to her, but the truth is that she was giving so much back. I just didn’t know it yet.

Today, I’m sitting in the same exact cafe all by myself. Sadie (a happy, walking, almost-talking 16-month-old) is at home with her daddy. I no longer feel like I’ve lost an appendage. Instead, I feel like there’s an extension of me – a little person I’ve nurtured – out in the world experiencing life. I wonder what she’s doing, how she’s feeling. Is she giggling? Is she crying? Is she making her daddy laugh? Most likely, she’s done all of these things in the past five minutes.

I’m still working on letting go. I don’t know if I will ever feel the same sense of freedom I did before I had a child, but I am slowly building a new life, a new way of being, that helps me balance all of these complicated, wonderful feelings. This motherhood thing ain’t easy, no matter how you slice it. We spend our days holding so many emotions – not only our own, but that of our children. Between the laughter and tears and naps (when we’re lucky) and snacks and spills and clean-ups and uh-ohs, I’ve finally found a sliver of space. A sliver of freedom. I see it now. I am breathing into it when it arrives. I am cultivating more of it and reminding myself that not only is it okay to ask for it, but it is absolutely necessary.

And so I sit here at my favorite cafe, a year after PPD (what a difference a year makes!), writing the first blog post I’ve written in oh-so-long (and it feels oh-so-good!), missing my little girl something fierce, and feeling gratitude that I can do this now. All my limbs are in tact and I can finally relax.

I haven’t written a blog post in almost two months. It was not for lack of words, mind you. I’ve thought about how I would explain my absence – as many others do when they’ve been away so long. But the truth is that I haven’t been away.

I’ve been here. More here than I’ve been in a very very long time.

This has been a time of rebirth. Of digital detox. And deep breaths.

Among other things…

I took Facebook off of my phone. (Life changing!)
I read books. Plural!
I took walks.
I made new friends.
I turned off the t.v.
I stopped eating sugar.
I baked vegan muffins.
I rolled around on the floor with my daughter.
I forgot to pack my camera on a family vacation and I was okay.
I belly laughed with my husband.
I had a Stevie Wonder dance party with my girl.
I fell asleep without assistance, just the calm in and out of my breath.
I slept through the night for the first time in over a year. And so did she.

Most important, I allowed life to be what it is. I’m so used to striving for more/better/different and to proving that I can do it all – juggling the mama, businesswoman, artist, photographer, and wife hats. I finally asked myself what if I allowed myself to just be here? What would happen if I didn’t try to do it all?

And you know what happened?

I let out a big ol’ sigh of relief. Ahhhhhhh.

So I’m still here. Allowing life to show me what it needs to show me right now. Perhaps I’ll try on one of my old hats again some day, but right now it feels good to not be wearing a hat at all.

How about you? How’ve you been? I miss you.

 sometimes i want to run away
not away away
but instead to the place
in my heart
filled with ease

i dream of porch swings
and breezes
of grass between my toes
and white space

those are the things in my heart
they are there
waiting for the right time
and place

i dream of holding hands
and sleeping late
of that day in paris
when we stood in the street
eating baguettes

and we marveled
oh, how we marveled

now i look at her face
and I see your eyes
and my mouth
your sense of humor
and my sensitivity
and a special spunk all her own

and i marvel

at all that has been
and all that will be
and all that there is right now

yet how can one feel so completely
at home
and completely
alone
at the same time?

perhaps some day
this will all make sense -
even this poem
that is writing itself
as i type

perhaps some day
i will find myself on that porch swing
and instead of running away
or running towards
I will stop running and see that
everything i ever wanted
is right here

we will sit in the grass
together
laughing about the old days
marveling at how far we’ve come
and how wonderful it all was
and is

perhaps i don’t need a porch swing at all

* * *

and after you read this poem
you reached out your hand and said
i’ve got your porch swing here
confirming that we’re in this together
you are my white space
i am your cool breeze
and together
we marvel

What can I tell you about Nancy? I knew we would hit it off before we even met in person. I was not prepared for how much giggling would happen during our photo session and how much I would be nodding my head in agreement – as if we’d been friends for years. I have a feeling she has this effect on everyone.

One of my favorite parts of my job is meeting interesting people, learning about their lives (who they are and where they are headed), and creating photos together that feel uniquely them. In Nancy’s case, she wanted photos for her website as she crafts a new business and blog and creates a web presence. She helps small businesses figure out their money stuff – you know, the stuff that we creative types often brush under the rug. Well, she’s the woman who will help you make sense of it all and hopefully make more of it. Yay! More!

I really enjoy helping people define their personal brand. Your image is the first thing people see on your website, so I want to make sure it really expresses who you are and appeals to your peeps. I asked Nancy to pick three words she would use to describe her style. Her words were warm, worldly, and whimsical. I LOVE those words. In addition, I would say that she is confident and vivacious. She has a kick-ass resume and a caring spirit to back it all up. Yup, I could feel all of this within 60 seconds of meeting her.

So here she is: warm, worldly, whimsical, BEAUTIFUL Nancy.

One year ago:

It’s all a blur. I remember her going limp in my arms. The 911 call. The in-and-out of consciousness. My eery calmness. The ambulance ride. The small talk with the EMT. Seeing her hooked up to monitors. Holding her tiny 3-week-old body down while they x-rayed her. Shaking our heads in disbelief. Eating cold felafel and Diet Cokes for Thanksgiving dinner. Dining on gratitude and grief stew. Barely understanding how to be parents. Only knowing how to hold each other and breathe one breath at a time (barely knowing how to do that).

Luckily, she was fine. We, on the other hand, were not. We went home two days later and carried on life as if it was all a bad dream. But we were forever changed.

I had given birth to her three weeks earlier, but that Thanksgiving, I became a mother.

What a difference a year makes.

And one more photo just for the fun of it. I couldn’t resist snapping this photo of shmooshy-faced Ruby!

I’m looking forward to photographing this family again in six months when Gavin turns one year old! They booked a “Baby’s First Year” package with me – such a fun way to document this special time in a family’s life.

View their maternity session here.
View their newborn session here.

If you would like me to photograph you or your family, contact me!

I had this crazy idea that by the time Sadie was a year old, I’d have some things figured out. (I hear all the veteran moms snickering in the corner). I have been writing a list in my head over the past twelve months of “things I know for sure” – to borrow my BFF Oprah’s phrase. But when I sat down to write this, I realized that what I know for sure is this:

Not a damn thing.

In fact, I think I know less now than I ever have. In my pre-baby life, I felt like I had some things figured out. It’s not that I knew it all, but there were things I thought I could rely on: a good night’s sleep, my creativity, my ingenuity. There was a rhythm and freedom to my days that I could count on. At least, it felt that way.

After a year in this mothering gig, the only thing I can count on is that I can’t count on anything. Some days, this drives the control-freak in me crazy. Other days, the unpredictable nature of life with a toddler (that’s the first time I’ve typed that!) is actually quite fun. I’ve learned that so much of my experience as a mother is based on my attitude.

There are days when Sadie doesn’t want to nap and I’m so tired, I can’t see straight. I finally get her out of her crib and begrudgingly continue with my day with my jaw clenched and my “Poor Me” hat on. The next day, I can be just as tired and she can be just as opposed to napping, but I make the decision to be there, be present, and not grasp on to what I thought my day was going to look like. On those days, Sadie seems happier and I feel happier. And so what if I’m tired? Minute by minute, who knows what will happen? Isn’t that a beautiful thing?

But I really hoped to have some words of wisdom at this point. I thought I would write a post for all the new or soon-to-be mamas out there. I wanted to help ease their transition to motherhood. But the truth is we all have to pave our own paths. Every child is different and every mother is different.

What I can tell you is that being a mother is harder and better than I ever could have imagined. I’m not sure if that is comforting, but that’s the truth. There’s no way to prepare. Believe me. I tried. In the end, the best thing you can do is trust your child, trust yourself, and surround yourself with people who love you.

The first year of motherhood has shown me just how unpredictable and tender life is. It has also shown me how joyful and magical and deep life is. Above all else, this year has shown me what true love is. She has shown me what true love is.

Maybe I’ll be able to report back after Sadie’s second birthday with a list of toddler-related “things I know for sure”, but I seriously doubt it. I have a feeling I will be learning what it means to be a mother for the rest of my life.

It’s not the best photo. I took it with my iPhone a few minutes ago. An ordinary moment that felt extraordinary to me. Sometimes I let these moments pass me by without acknowledging them. Lately, I have felt like I haven’t been accomplishing much. Days are melting into each other and life is being lived between naps and meals and diaper changes.

And yet there is a constant feeling that I am not doing enough. (Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way.) The tug-of-war between the “past me” and the “present me”. The mama and the woman. I know I’ve been hard on myself, expecting more of myself than is humanly possible.

But just now when I looked down at my feet I thought it was important to give myself a pat on the back. It was a tough day, to say the least. It’s been a tough couple of weeks, really. After a 4:30 a.m. wake-up, a morning of inconsolable tears, her very first fever, and three naps before noon (hers not mine), Sadie woke up all smiles. Sweet relief. Exhausted and on my last leg, all I wanted was a warm bath, a cozy bed, and chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

None of those things are possible at the moment.

So I pulled out the blender and made a green smoothie. People! You are reading correctly! Instead of chocolate or mac and cheese (my comfort food staples), I made a green smoothie! And just because I needed to feel a little bit fancy on this anything-but-fancy day, I poured it into a wine glass. Shmancy!

And so I’m giving myself a pat on the back. I hope you don’t mind. I trusted my mama instincts today, I soothed my little girl, I brought smiles back to her face, and I treated myself with green kindness. I even wrote not one, but two blog posts! And now my baby is on a rampage, tearing the house apart. I’ve never been happier to see a mess.

The moral of the story: when nobody is around to give you a pat on the back, it’s okay to give yourself one.

* * * * * * * * * *

How about you? Can you pat yourself on the back today? I dare you.

Share your job well done in the comments and I’ll happily give you a virtual pat on the back!