Suburban Dream

Waiting

What on Earth could make a string of bored toddlers sit wait for an eternity?
They won't even sit through a quick meal!
Answer?
Balloon Animals. Really.

Ack!

Technical difficulties, again.

I know, you think I'm scattered. I'm a scattered Mommy. My kids often have that Quiltie look. Sometimes their hair is messy. Their noses runny. Sometimes I forget the sippy cup, or the snackie-trap. Sometimes I forget Kleenexes and have to wipe noses with a slightly pre-owned brown napkin from Rubios extracted from my jacket pocket, or worse, my sleeve. Sometimes we're late for naps and they have to go boneless in protest of something or another. Usually we're running late because The Mommy forgot something, had to run back into the house for it, then realized the three other things I forgot, scrounged most of them up, then ran off again. Then pulled over a block away to find what was thrown on the floor of the backseat to subdue wailing so early in the trip. And due to the usual chaos and distraction, The Mommy did not take time to put together a decent outfit for herself that meets all requirements: is clean, is not tattered, is not too ill-fitting, matches, etc. further continuing the appearance of being totally scatter brained.
But despite what you may think because I haven't washed my hair in three days, I still do take pictures when something notable happens. I don't just say, "oh how cute" then walk away to brush my teeth. Au contraire. My teeth go unbrushed so I can capture the special moment on (digital) film. That's right, I'm not scatter brained just for the sake of it, or because it comes naturally, no no, it's because one can only fit so many moments into a day- only so many actions and reactions. Because The Mommy must react to, say, someone screaming, "Honeeeeeeeeyyyyyy! I wanted to read that NOWWWWWWWW!!!!" then suddenly there is no time to brush my hair. The quick scraggly ponytail will have to do. Because someone may prefer to ransack the book shelf, flip over the toybox, and fling the freshly folded laundry, now another chore must fall to the wayside- like reapplying deoderant, picking up cheerios from the kitchen floor (crunch), feeding the cat, or remembering to stuff new diapers into the diaper bag.
This is how it all starts to fall apart.
But taking pictures- this is a priority. There is always time to pull out the camera.
But sometimes it feels like the world is against us.
First, Canon is numero uno on The Mommy's Poo-Poo list.
The point and shoot is shot, and had to be returned for fixing. Hopefully Canon is making lemonade...
While they are squeezing their lemons, The Mommy is out one workhorse- and completely without video at the crucial time of JULIAN'S FIRST STEPS. As a documentarian, this is killing me.
Second, while trying to step up the technical systems, again, two steps forward (new iMac -love you-) one step back (new iMac ate digital files upon insertion of Big Canon's Compact Flash card -hate you-).
In short, Little Canon at shop, so I've been shooting the good stuff only to loose 2 weeks of images trying to connect on new computer. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
The Mommy is doing the best she can. Must. Hold. It. Together.
Be patient! Thanks.

Dandilion

Leaves, glorious leaves!

So happy to see your return after a dreary, leafless winter.

Ahhhh, Spring

A year later, I am still kicking myself for not having my camera on me one beautiful spring day, just before Julian's birth.
I went to a tour of the maternity ward at the Oakland Kaiser over on Piedmont. It had been rainy for a while, but that Saturday morning it was beautifully sunny. There were large, puffy clouds in a china blue sky- the kind that are so brightly white, they almost look silver. The trees lining the street had just started to bloom and their big puffy flowers mimicked the clouds in the sky. I walked out of the hospital, thinking about Julian, about my little boy who would be born so soon, about my last moments of pregnancy. About the world, the day that he would be born into and how I knew I would always remember it. The sunlight flickered through the blooming sticks above my head as I walked to the car, and I looked up to that beautiful sight of clear blue, bright white and fresh flowers- and that is how I always want to remember what the world looked like when Julian came into it.
I reached into my purse, but my camera that was usually there, wasn't. So I stood there, looking up making a print in my brain. I promised that next year, I would come back and take that shot. So the rain came and went, the sun came and went, the bloom came, the clouds came, but never all at the same time for that perfect shot to match the one in my memory. Today, it came close, so I drove across town to catch it. I'll look again next year.

Early morning fog

Shell Beach, SLO