25/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
This man o’ mine has been real into cooking lately (he’s the chef in our house). Two of my favs from the menu this past week: Chicken parmigiana with homemade pink wine sauce

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and Chicken with shallot cream sauce. Then there was the night we ordered pizza and brought it to the park… There’s always a night like that on the menu each week as well. I’m trying to get him on-board with a guest post to share some of his recipes… Stay tuned…

Last week I loved this series, especially the one of the little girl int he alleyway. The colors and the light are magical together. I also loved this series, because I’m partial to other series that involve the hubsters; And the photography is great.
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24/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
Tonight Willy and I are spending our first night away from both boys, ever. We have a wedding in Lake Arrowhead and are staying the night so we can actually enjoy ourselves. I have no doubt we’ll be high fiving one another as we pull out of my mom and dad’s driveway after dropping the boys off… Then, an hour later, we’ll be talking about how much we miss them. Such is parenthood, right?
I love these images from last week. Those little hairs on the boy in the last photo on the skateboard kills me. Such great images. And that little ballerina on the floor… It makes my ovaries hurt.
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23/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
My husband. Aka the man who will do a belly flop for the sake of your portrait series. I love the man, I do.
As for last week, I loved both the photo and editing of Abigail’s photo. I’m obviously drawn to the father son moment as well. I mean his little hands on his Papa’s back, get out… right? So sweet.
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22/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
We spent part of this last week in Arizona, visiting family. Willy was born and raised there, though he chooses only to associate himself with California these days. California will do that to you, I suppose. In any event, we met the bright blue eyed little girl that has so graciously given us the title of Aunt and Uncle, and we couldn’t be more proud. I’ll share some bits + pieces from our trip next week. I’m also working on a new family video.
I loved this capture from Grow Till Tall from last week, especially the one with her little nose pushed up against the window. So cute.
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20/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
True story: Willy used to have a tramp stamp. And by tramp stamp, I mean he used to have a tattoo on his low back of a palm tree and wave. I suppose it was something the Arizona-born kid got when he decided he’d like to call California home. He threw around ideas of what he wanted to cover it up with years later when he decided he no longer liked his little stamp. We were at my parents home when I directed him to this painting of a ship. It’s a painting my parents have had for years and I’ve always loved it. Next thing you know, he comes home with a ship on his back.
I other news, I loved this series or portraits from last weeks entries. A portrait of a portrait? Love it.
Side note: The standings over on Top Baby Blogs have been reset. I finished this last quarter in 4th place, which blows my mind. Thanks to everyone who continues voting. I’d love your vote to maintain my standing. You can vote daily. Thank you for all of your continued support.
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19/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
I always support things like bachelor parties in theory because, in theory, everyone deserves a break. But the reality is that it’s hard being a single parent and I’m always reminded of this when Willy is gone for more than a day. I get it when it’s work related, but when he’s away for a bachelor party, I always want to greet him with a punch in the face. Not because I’m mad, but because it’s hard when he’s away. In any event, I battled a mean mom funk in the two days he was gone. Nothing seemed to go right; it was one of those weekends where you sit down to pee only to realize no one restocked the toilet paper.
He returned home with what he refers to as his “party glasses” and they are, uh, reflective, to say the least. I thought they were joke glasses; something to be tucked away in his suitcase that’s filled with elephant thong underwear, size 22 tennis shoes, and various wigs (ya, he’s that guy). But no, he wore them to dinner the next night. And he’s quite proud of them too. I mean just look at that smirk on his face. I married a big kid and I love him for it.
In other news, I really enjoyed Haus of Soul’s capture last week. I have fond memories of road trippin’ through White Sands and it’s one place, among many, that I’d really like to return to.
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18/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
I thought I was going to die from frustration last night. It was one of those nights. And by one of those nights, I’m referring to one of those evenings where I was trying to juggle cooking dinner, breastfeeding Van, and taking a grabbing-his-nuts-and-yelling-potty toddler to the bathroom. Hooper was giving me a run for my money, Van has two teeth he likes to bite my nipple with, and somewhere in the midst of my I’m-a-single-mom-today day, I forgot to eat lunch. That happens when you’re a mom, doesn’t it? It was nearly five o’clock when I realized and by then nothing but a top tart sounded good. So I ate a pop tart. By the time dinner responsibilities came around, I was spent. I had no fuel to power the engine. Just when I thought I couldn’t handle anymore, Hooper pissed on the floor. And then mister-I-insist-on-standing-in-the-bath-Van fell in the bath. It was one of those nights.
I digress. This post is supposed to be about that handsome man in that sharp looking suit.
We spent the night down in Hollywood the other night, at the historic Roosevelt Hotel. Willy was invited, via work, to the world premier of Iron Man 3 so the boys and I tagged along to enjoy the perks of trashing a room we don’t have to clean up. If you follow me on instagram, you heard my ranting and raving about trying to make it across the street through the hoards of moronic individuals that chose to spent their weekday evening stalking people they deem important because of some script they read in front of a camera. No joke, I was pushed, shoved, and practically trampled by people running back and forth along the ropes of the red carpet. The stroller I was pushing offered no sense of a reality check and as I sat there with my boys in the empty diner across the street, I watched as crazed individuals waved their homemade signs and chanted the nicknames of their favorite actors. Hollywood just isn’t my thing. I think I’m too practical.
In any event, I highly recommend the Roosevelt. The room was fantastic and the service was incredible. I’ll share more photos next week when I, hopefully, have my sanity back.
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17/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
“Just as the wave cannot exist for itself, but is ever a part of the heaving surface of the ocean, so must I never live my life for itself, but always in the experience which is going on around me”. -Albert Schweitzer
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16/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
I heard this quote from comedian Patton Oswalt the other day on the radio, in reference to the bombing at the Boston Marathon. When things like this happen, when evil shows it’s reckless ways, Willy and I wonder about this world we’ve brought our two lovely children into. I’ve heard people that do not have children of their own question whether having children is a good idea, given the nastiness we live in at times. My desire to mother children superseded any debate about not to do so, but now that I have two children to protect and teach, the ugliness in the world weighs more heavily on me. It’s one more thing that we, as parents, have no control over.
In any case, Patton Oswalt’s words were just what I needed to hear and I wanted to share his words here for anyone that has yet to hear what he had to say.
“I remember, when 9/11 went down, my reaction was, ‘Well, I’ve had it with humanity.’ But I was wrong,” Patton wrote. “I don’t know what’s going to be revealed to be behind all of this mayhem. One human insect or a poisonous mass of broken sociopaths.
But here’s what I DO know”, he continued. “If it’s one person or a HUNDRED people, that number is not even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent of the population on this planet. You watch the videos of the carnage and there are people running TOWARDS the destruction to help out.
The vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We’d have eaten ourselves alive long ago.
So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, ‘The good outnumber you, and we always will.'”
When I look at this picture of Willy and Van, it’s difficult to comprehend the realities present outside of this little home of ours. This picture reminds me not of what we cannot accomplish as parents, but what we can: love, respect, humor.
Patton Oswalt’s words are undeniably powerful and true. In times where we struggle to make sense of it all and in a world where evil undeniably exists, we’re going to teach our children to be the white blood cells.
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15/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
We share such a deep love for our boys. When I look at this photo, I see a tired Hooper- blanket in hand, fingers in mouth- and a father who not only welcomes his sons vulnerability, but understands that holding his small body in his arms is a privilege. Every time I hold either of my boys in my arms, I feel grateful. There really is no love like the love of a parent for their children.
One of my favorites from last week was Rebekka, who is photographing a different person each week. I suggest checking out her blog as well, as it is simply beautiful and wonderfully inspiring. I love the way this project has brought many different bloggers and photographers together. There are so many talented and inspiring people out there.
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14/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
See that man up there? He has never been stoked with my incessant photo taking. I asked his permission, of course, before committing myself to this 52 week photo project. He obliged, but I don’t think it was until week 3 or 4 that he realized this meant a camera would be in his face at least once a week. This week, something magical happened; he went to sit outside and enjoy the wonderful springtime weather and while I was working away at my computer I heard him yell, “Don’t you want to come take my picture?”. I know, I know, it’s crazy; The complacency, the motivation, the willingness… who is this man? Week 14, you’re going down in the books.
Something else special about this man I call my husband: He took the day off yesterday and gifted me a “Mama day”. I got a massage in the morning and ran a few errands (by myself) in the afternoon. I won’t even mention the filet mignon he cooked for dinner and the cupcake he picked up for me at the store for dessert. Okay, I know, I mentioned it. I sure do love this man.
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13/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
Life has been busy, busy, busy as of late. Willy’s been spending a lot of time in Palm Springs for work which means I’ve been single mommin’ it or tagging along and hanging out in random hotel rooms with our members. Throw in the dreaded rotavirus and the fact that I am still (technically speaking) a working mom whether it’s part time or not and you’ll understand why I have yet to post the photos from our trip to Arizona and why there’s laundry spread all over the house and trash in random piles (recycle this, donate that) all over the place. By the time I put the kids to bed, all I want to do is enjoy a glass of wine and unwind but all this ish seems to be starring at me dead in the face and it keeps calling me lazy. I keep telling it to shut the eff up.
Anyway, this pic was taken in Palm Springs. Which reminds me that I’m behind on posting those pics as well. But this wine sure tastes good, so whatevs.
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11/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
As they say in Thailand, same same, but different. The way they both appear to be biting, just slightly, their bottom lips; their gaze off into the distance. I really love these two.
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10/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
This guy has the hardest time when the littles are, well, little. Van is all about me; as soon as I hand him off he’s throwing himself back in my direction. But apparently when I’m out of sight, I’m out of mind. I caught these two sharing a moment before his bath and I grabbed my camera and hung out outside the door, out of sight. This may be my favorite picture of these two. He may love his mama, but as Willy said the other day, “When he’s sweet, he’s really sweet”.
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09/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
It’s been a hard last few days. Hooper’s had a runny nose for a few weeks now and came down with a 103+ temperature just a few days ago. Willy had a fever as well and spent two consecutive days in bed, for the most part. And, oh yeah, now Van’s sick. Somehow, amongst all the shit thrown my way, I’ve managed to get Van’s clothes sorted and organized; that kid grows faster than pubic hair after marriage. I’ve also managed to put together a special gathering at our house today. I cleaned the yard, brought stuff that had been stashed in the corner out to the garage, and cleaned the house. And, oh yeah, I ended last night with two glasses of wine; so it ain’t all snot rags and shitty diapers. I’m sure my fate as the only healthy one in the house is doomed and I’m trying hard to ignore the reality that I most likely will be joining them soon.
Best cure around, according to Willy: Grandpa’s cough syrup. AKA whiskey. Ain’t nothin’ like attacking the germs with the peaty burn of whiskey.
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08/52

Something you may not know about this man: He’s the easiest going guy, for the most part, but is the most particular about the most peculiar things; Like the ice he puts in his drink. He’ll engage you in a conversation about how the right kind of ice cubes make his whiskey taste better and you’ll walk away from the conversation no longer believing the ice in your freezer is adequate.
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07/52

A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
I laugh every time he uses the word accolades. He harbors resentment for whoever decided on the five day work week. I get mad when he stares at me while I’m trying to fall asleep. He drinks a lot of milk. I am his wife, he is my husband. BooYah!
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