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My secret to a good picture???
I have three friends that are professional photographers.
One friend is the mom of my son’s best buddy. One is my neighbor and my dearest friend since I was 16. And one is my graduate-school kindred spirit.
Yup. That is my secret. It’s probably cheating. Okay it IS cheating. But, if you don’t have a friend who is a professional photographer, you need to get one. Like, right away. Buy these folks coffee…. let them borrow your car….do whatever…. Because when you send your son on playdates you get pics like THIS:
By Jessica Nichols Photography
When you have a new baby you get pics like THIS from Auntie Sugar:
by Christiana Childers Photography
When they need last minute models for their workshops you get the phone call and then end up with pics like THIS:
by Erika from Me Ra Koh Confidence Workshop
I know. I need to bake more and pay these women back, eh?
On Wednesday I attended the wettest soccer game ever anywhere since the world began.
One VERY wet soccer player!
I mean, we folk in Seattle are made of a hearty stuff when it comes to rain. Being wet is an enevitable part of our everyday lives. Everything around here is “Rain or Shine”…. Come to our outdoor sleepover, rain or shine…. We’re having a Luau, rain or shine…. You are invited to our wedding, rain or shine…. If we don’t include the caveat of “rain or shine” on everything we do, we would sit at home watching rain drops run down our window panes. Depressing.
But Wednesday’s soccer game took the warning “Rain or Shine” to a whole new level. Let’s just say NOAH would have been intimidated. When I realized that the raindrops actually hurt as they fell, I had Dave call the assistant coach of the soccer team and ask if, perchance, this game would be, well… rained out. Oh no, that doesn’t happen, he said. And so off I went with a carload of 6th grade girls and Ty, who insisted that he loved the rain.
Mud Puddles
What resulted was 90 of the wettest minutes of my life. And I was on swim team. The girls were soaked to the skin within 3 minutes — aka the walk from the car to the field. The parents had various rain protection devices with them — aka, boots, umbrellas, and a stoic attitude. Ty and I huddled under our newly purchases “sports-brella” which is a giant, oversized umbrella designed to sit on its side, like a cave. Ty said to me, “If we had to live in this sports-brella, that would be so sad!” Agreed. When Ty realized that staying dry was hopeless, he headed straight for the puddles. Well, I thought, at least I don’t have to go to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.
The good news is that the players had a good time and that when we got home there were hot showers and chili dogs waiting for us. Processed meat never tasted so good.
I am the mother of pirate.
That same pirate is also a jedi, a superhero, a secret agent, and a paleontologist.
Before Ty was born I knew that becoming a mom would be transformative. I knew that in my head but I didn’t know it in my heart until I had this little baby in my arms and I knew… knew… I would never be the same.
My mom describes motherhood like this. When your child is born there is a rope (I am speaking metaphorically here… I would never advocate giving a rope to a newborn.) The mommy holds most of the rope and the baby has a grip on just the fray at the end. Slowly, slowly we start to hand over more of the rope to our kids — giving them more control, more say, more of themselves. And, in turn, we get less control, less say, and less of them. Until one day we see that they have the whole rope and we are gripping the fray at the end.
The first time this was put to the test was when Ty was about 18 months old. The older girls had been living with us for a few months and Ty chose Jade INSTEAD OF ME to read him his afternoon book. My first thought was to recoil and start reeling in that rope… but luckily I got ahold of myself. There have also been times when Ty has tried to grab so much, no, TOO much of the rope for him to handle. Like the time he was 2 years old and used a variety of household items — fire poker, stool, hanger — to try and break into Grandma’s car.
Last week Ty turned five. Before his birthday I thought I would be terribly depressed and blue at the thought of his turning five. I thought I would have “rope burns” as a bit more of the rope was yanked through my hands. Instead, I found myself willing handing it over with a quiet peace of mind that although my boy was growing up, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be and so was I.
I teased him by saying, “When you turn five, will you still hug me?” “Yes!” he said. “Will you still wanna cuddle?” “Yes!” he yelled. “Will you still climb into bed with me when you have a bad dream?” “Yes, MOMMY,” he said, “I will always hug you and kiss you and wanna sleep with you and cuddle you and love you and give you MARATHON kisses!” And, I know that all of this is not exactly the truth. He will, afterall, go on to love other people — his wife, his kids, his grandkids. And I will almost for sure be the overbearing mother in law that makes everyone’s eyes roll. Showing up with my color coded calendar of activities and still licking my finger to wipe a smudge off of his cheek. But, I do know that my love for him is a gift. That NO ONE will ever love HIM like I do. No one. Because no one loves you like your mom. And, I get to be “mom.” And that is a good thing.
So, avast the sails, me hearties. May the force be with you. Up, up and away. Get out your decorder ring. Dig up some T-rex bones. And have a very Happy Mother’s Day!
A while back I blogged on MeRa Koh’s site about handing my camera over to Ty and having him photograph his world. Well, during our recent Spring Break trip to Whidbey Island, I decided to try this again. I guess I just wasn’t in the space to get outside and shoot lots of pictures. But I didn’t want our wonderful vacation to go by undocumented (GASP!), either.
This time, I put some restrictions on their photos. I told them they could each take only ten pictures. I wanted to focus their eye — so instead of just random, scatter-shots, the kids would really think about what they wanted to document and preserve.
I think you will be pleased with the results. Here are some samples:
First up, Lily (10).
White Shell
"Destroyed" Crab in Pirate Fort (actually, its plastic)
Next is Izzy (12):
Shoes, Sand, and Seaweed
Self Portrait
Next up, Jade — our resident teenager (14):
Sunset over the Saratoga Passage
Sister at Sunset (sounds like a Magic Treehouse book!)
I’m actually really impressed with Jade’s photos. Due to a fluke, she ended up shooting her photos on “Aperture Priority.” Which means, the photographer sets the aperture or F-stop (or controls the BLUR in the background) and the camera will select the shutter speed. It’s not terribly advanced, but it is a step up from shooing on automatic. Here’s another one:
Garden Outside Bunkhouse (where the TV fell on her).
And last, Ty (4). Okay, so he was in a hurry that morning.
Jade's Leg and Back Patio Tile
What was the most fascinating for me was that each child took a completely unique set of pictures! So, I ended up with 40 pictures of our little vacation spot and I got to do THIS while they “Slaved Away”:
Picture by Grandma Bloo. Don’t you just LOVE my flirtatious pose?
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