so, i’ve worked as many hours this week as a regular working mama, and i’m drained.
i miss her…even though i’ve been with her.

and while i’ve been posting shoots and ramblings, i miss a good write.
i have to write. it is my therapy. my get-away. my friend.

next week, we shall make time for cupcakes. and painting. and a trip to somewhere special.

she is loving her sock monkey as of late…thank you, aunt e!

hormones from all this little bean stuff have volumized the emotions as of late and, while that lends itself to the less attractive end of oh, say feeling more overwhelmed lately and/or turning small catastrophes into thinking my world is coming to a bitter and complete end, they too bring the sweeter rewards of aggrandizing little goods into earth-shattering beauty. as if cryderman maudlinism wasn’t enough, i now cry at sunsets. texts from my sister. any baby. and her doing anything remotely related to human life & form. which is pretty much everything.

and, with more work to do these days, i stretch to find inspiration to keep new creative ideas coming. and while i do find it in nature, anthropologie catalogues, photography websites, music, books…it doesn’t take but a minute to realize that my greatest inspiration always lies in this little i feel so lucky to call mine.

my favorite moments today…after a long day…
we replaced our old sheets with fresh, clean cold ones.
slid into snuggy p’jams.
turned on our nightstand lamp.
and rested.
quietly. with books. and a dog.

and i studied her and that moment like a museum painting.
the way the tight stripes hugged her tiny frame just so.
the calm and security our big familiar bed gives her.
how she’s grown. and changed.

i didn’t read to her tonight. instead, i let her do it herself, turning the hard pages slowly, taking it in…pointing to bunnies and moons and mittens and telling her own story in a half-jarbled string of words that came out distorted behind her pacifier. yes, she read to herself tonight while i mawkishly teared up, stroked her hair and kissed the dickens out of her pale forehead. and she pretended to be all nonchalant, focusing on the book rather than her affectionate mama, but i knew she was takin’ it in.

a lovely closing for the almost-end of a long day in a very long week.
there shall be more to write later. and more discoveries and adventures and marrow-of-life-sucking experiences.

but for now, all i shall say is…
i love her so.

a couple more of sweet miah…
the last project her daddy worked on…in all his years of working as an electrician…was a beautiful garden here in naples–the garden of courage and hope.
we went there today to snap a couple of miah in the garden, and lainey trudged along.
she loves the baby shoots and proved herself completely worthy of big sisterhood.
she was gentle and helpful and made me so incredibly excited to see her with our little.

and, ooooohhhweeee, is leah’s daddy gunna go bananas over these pics. major jets fan, and her mama said he’ll die when he sees her in his jersey.
their card that’s going to be sent out to their big italian family–all crazy jets fans–in new york…

front:

back:

and my favorite…
while brett’s in vancouver, some friends joined me for a cozy chili night tonight where we sat in my kitchen and talked while all the babies vandalized the playroom.

and to get this picture with them all looking?

look what happens behind-the-scenes:

(thank you, heidi, for capturing our zulu rain dance)

dude, we mamas work for our pictures.

sometimes, i do it for her.
the backyard tea parties where we get lost under shady trees with tiny cups–real cups–and graham crackers and peaches.
the moments where we stop everything and just be.
the little slivers in a universe of time where nothing else matters but what’s going on in her little mind…and i am stilled by the realization that she is ours and that she is wonderful.
the opportunities where i am not her teacher, but rather she is mine.

…sometimes, i do it for her.

but many times, like today, i did it for me.
because when i am lost or overwhelmed or sinking into that place where i forget what really matters, she brings me back.

to childhood.

and somewhere, inside every one of us, there is childhood.
where imagination blooms. and free spirit soars. and time is non-existent.
where bare feet run on prickly grass and skirts swish and sway in the afternoon light.

where we are never too old to somersault. or smile with all our teeth. where knees are skinned from rough afternoon play and hair is thoughtlessly tousled into a heap of a happy mess.

today, she took me to childhood again.
and i think it is my favorite place.
and, while i have no photos of my somersault, i did one. a nice pregnant version of one, of course, but it was beautiful.
today, pretend tea tasted even better than real tea. and the music of her giggle was perhaps the sweetest sound. and, as the sun went down, and our ‘tea’ slowly dwindled, i began to pick up the mess.
and then, completely umpromted, she sweetly said…
thank you, mama.

except i should be thanking her.

loving my little and what she makes me every day.
better.

and to childhood. a very happy place. look what it did for peter pan.

~k