01 04 2022 ‘Toy cars’

01 03 2022 ‘Jelly Bean Grandpa’

A visit with my grandparents, jelly beans and Grandpa’s mandolins.

01 02 2022 ‘Mom, take a picture of my room’

This girl and ALL the stuffed animals.

Personal project, year two

Two years ago, I committed to taking (but mostly sharing) a photo every day for a year. Little did I know that I would be documenting our family during a pandemic for most of 2020. I decided to continue the project for another year but 2021 started off with loss and profound grief, which left me with just enough energy to maintain the minimum and next to nothing for flexing creative muscles.

I decided to give the daily project a chance again.

In the first twenty days of this endeavour, there have been days where I haven’t had the energy to photograph anything and days when the inspiration is overwhelming. Choosing just one photo is difficult—perhaps that is an unintentional challenge for me in 2022–since the style of photography I naturally gravitate to is documentary. I see this reflecting in my writing too. I want to be a storyteller in every sense.

Posting only one photo on social media doesn’t tell the whole story, as we all well know, and this space has been significantly under-utilized, in general and for my photography. So here is my intention: I will continue to post my one photo on social, but I’ll make a concentrated effort to share the rest of the story here.

//

Below are a few photos from our first day of 2022 - our youngest was upset about something not going his way but when Dad brought out a video of Max Verstappen in a F1 race, his problems disappeared.

Sunday afternoon with the baby

East Coast Adventure

My younger brother (the middle child of our family) recently married the sweetest girl you can find, in her home province of New Brunswick. I, of course, was thrilled to have an excuse to go explore some of eastern Canada.

With my camera in my backpack and what I hoped was not excessively packed luggage, we set off with unrealistic expectations for our time there while 'vacationing' with small children. We saw a few tourist-y things and I photographed less than I thought - almost only at Peggy's Cove as I tried to keep up with my son and my youngest brother - but I can say that it is a beautiful part of the world that contains some of the friendliest people. 

Below are a few photos that prove we visited Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick.

SIX years // a letter to my son

Six years ago, I sat in a hospital bed with monitors and IV's attached to me, while we waited... There might have been TLC's 'Cake Boss' on repeat and I'm sure I had been texting your granny with the few updates we had to give. 

Six years ago, I didn't know that in a few hours, our doctor was going to be called in because your little body was being stressed with every contraction I had. And then shortly after that, I would be prepped for surgery. 

Six years ago, I was wheeled into a white sterile room and it felt like a dream. I remember feeling every contraction and fighting each one, knowing that every time my body tried to do what God had orchestrated it to do perfectly on its own, you were being hurt. I remember crying a lot - bouncing back and forth between fear of major surgery and knowing I would do anything for you, to make sure you are safe.

Six years ago, you were born. It's all very 'blurry', your birth. There are so many details I can't remember, because I was scared. But I remember being so VERY happy when I met you. When I saw those skinny little baby limbs and heard that cry. You were ours and you were healthy and you were perfect.

I had to wait to see you again, after they took to you be checked out. Your dad brought you down to where I was recovering and I remember my hands almost twitching I wanted to hold you so badly. I didn't get to touch you in the OR - I saw your little face, but I didn't get to touch you, to feel your skin and know you were not just a dream. It was almost too much to take, waiting for you to be in my arms.

Six years ago, I became a mom to a little boy with red hair, who didn't like to sleep unless he was swinging (at a speed which seemed almost violently fast) and had his soother in. Six years ago, I couldn't have fathomed how many times I'd want to pull my hair out at your stubbornness or probably lost years off of my life when you climbed farm equipment I thought you were too young to do. My boy, you have brought great joy to our lives. In a year that brought a scary diagnosis of an unknown disease, it also brought us you. 

Six years ago, I first began to love you. I haven't - WE haven't - stopped loving you. My sweet, sweet boy... I pray so many things for you, for who you will grow to be and who you will remain.   Mostly I pray that you will always know that we love you, that we would do anything for you. And that you will know a love deeper still, a perfect love that we try to model to you but fail so often at. Hudson, there's so much we hope for, for you... but nothing more than that you find your hope for all things securely in Jesus. Keep singing about the love of Jesus, my boy. Hold on to that love tightly.

Mama loves you better than the whole world. Happy birthday bud.

Portraits in our bathroom // part 1

Our bathroom may have the best light in our house for portraits of the kids. Thankfully close-up images and shallow depth of fields (mostly) hide the tell-tale signs of farm water issues 😉