A photo journal comprised of my thoughts on motherhood and other life happenings, as well as some of professional work as a photographer. Southern California is home.
Leave it to open dirt roads, two sleeping toddlers, and a bag full of snacks to bring out life’s big questions. Willy and I love dreaming and scheming and creating together. We spent a couple of days out in the desert and came back feeling inspired and energized. It’s easy, as a mother, to get caught up in mothering the kiddos but every now and again I find myself wanting and needing to take a step back and appreciate the man that’s helped build this little family of ours. He’s really something special and I’m so grateful.
The boys have gotten easier and easier to travel with and any troubles they caused on the trip are already forgotten; memories shaped instead by the photos of a few special moments along the way. Pit stops, mostly. And a few of that spectacular little ranch we stayed at.
Tonight, when I go to sleep, I’ll be dreaming about open roads, sleeping toddlers, and snacks. And maybe cacti too.
I tend to lose my mind sometime around this time of the year for the last few years. It starts with Halloween, which always sneaks up on me and makes me feel like a piece-of-shit mom for never having the energy to make some handmade clever costume. It’s quickly followed by Hooper’s birthday; a day that, for the past three years, I’ve haphazardly thrown something together at seemingly the last minute writing off the lag time by reminding myself that he’s too young to really care anyway. But this year, he knows what’s up. I still lagged, but I did manage to get an email invite out to a few friends and family.
No crazy decorations, a last minute pizza order after we decided a BBQ would be too much work, a pinata stuffed to the brim with leftover Halloween candy, some very special out-of-town guests, and enough wood to keep a fire blazing; the most perfect contradiction to the crisp autumn air.
I’ve been a mom now for nearly four years and have yet to be on the ball of Halloween (and other things, like birthday parties but let’s just take things one step at a time, k?). It seems to sneak up on me every year. I have major delusions of all of us dressing up or of turning the entryway into a mini haunted house for the neighborhood kids, which, in hindsight would have been a bad idea anyway given the fact we only got two sets of trick-or-treaters. What happened to neighborhood trick-or-treating anyway? Guess it depends where you live. If it was hoppin’ where you are, invite us next year, ok?
Hooper requested to be a cowboy, which was the same thing he was last year. Last year, however, he didn’t care and dressing him as a cowboy was our choice. This year it was his, so ya know, it didn’t really feel like a repeat. Plus his cowboy costume was something my in-laws splurged on and given the cost, I was happy to use it again. If it still fits, Van will be a cowboy next year. Ha.
I put Van in a Fred Flinestone costume I had made for Hoop a few years back. He got it so dirty at lunch that I opted to turn him into a firemen for neighborhood trick-or-treating. It was cute and simple and he was pretty stoked about it.
What did you guys do for Halloween? What’d your kids dress up as?
I didn’t want to do it, I really didn’t. But it was getting too straggly and too difficult to care for. So we trimmed it and have reset the cycle to the beginning… trim – grow out – become a rat nest – trim. It will be long again, in time.
I called these posts “bits + pieces” for a long time, but who am I kidding? These are leftovers; photos that didn’t fit into any post coming together to collectively make a post all their own, “The Leftovers”. Hooper in the evening light \ Tickle fest \ Tall ships festival with Jessica & co. that really ended up being a gaggle of boys brawling it out \ Summer nights on the beach (and Hoop’s man pony) \ The reason why all of our rugs are never in place \ HOT HOT days \ My grandma’s little ukulele that Van insists on playing despite my encouragement not to (it’s old and a part of the family) \ Around the table; Hooper, Jimmie, and Van \ Van in the driver’s seat — it’s hard to get him out once you put him in \ A day at the beach with Summer’s gang o’ kids \ A day at the park with Cindy and Mia \ Sunset \ Hooper, appropriately in the bushes wearing bell bottoms at a Led ZepAgain show.
Janet signed up for Designer Vaca back in the beginning of the year and I assured her I would go – for moral support, ya know – when the time came. The time came and it also happened to be her birthday, so it was nice to celebrate together. The boys tagged along and we joked about how no matter when we get together, there’s some conglomerate of kids around – be it hers or mine or some mix of the both (all of hers stayed back in Utah this time around). The event was held at the Ace, so the boys and I hung out by the pool while Janet attended conferences n’ whatnot. And I’ll tell ya what, Palm Springs with two boys is a lot easier than Palm Springs with two boys and a dog. Just sayin’. And the weather has finally cooled just a bit, the high 90’s being a welcomed retreat from the triple digits. Looking forward to more trips to the desert now that the weather has cooled. Who wants to watch Jimmie? Ha.
And as a side note, what do you do with kids once they’re too big for the pack-n-plays? Hoop is far too big to be sleeping in one of those and despite his insistence on doing so when we travel, it just ain’t gonna work much longer. Even as is he looks like a drunken man who fell asleep while leaning on a wall and kinda haphazardly slid down the wall into a hunched over sitting position. It’s horrible. I’m considering a blow up mattress or just getting a room with two beds. What do y’all do?
Trying my damndest to shoot more video, because even with all the pics I snap of the boys and our family, it’s those shitty little iPhone videos from days past that remind me how they used to move, talk, laugh, and – well- I don’t want to forget any of it. Still looking for a videographer to sit down and show me the ropes. Ha. I need some schooling.
It all started with a dreadlock; a real, totally legit dread. It needed to be cut out. And it was so big it would have left an obvious bald spot. Look at me trying desperately to justify my (our) impulsive actions. In just a few minutes, we erased any chance of him being Rod Stewart or Joe Dirt for Halloween. And now I’m left having to come up with an actual costume. Ho hum. In any event, he’s cuter (in my mind, anyway) and I can’t get enough of rubbing my hand across his freshly cut hair.
Meet our newest member, Jimmie. We adopted him from a couple of college students in Riverside. He’s 8 months old and all kinds of sweet and playful.
Some ramblings on Jimmie thus far:
-He has an affinity for woven baskets. I’ve lost one thus far.
-We almost enjoy when he gets in trouble. He cowards down by your feet and ultimately curls up into a little ball on your feet and looks up at you with the most pleading puppy dog eyes. He then proceeds to roll over into total submission. And so, a basket – here and there – has proven worth it.
-He has mad hops. His trademark move at the dog park is when he pushes off of all fours and literally hops entirely over another dog. It’s insane. A show stopper, to say the least.
-He poops and pees a lot. But has not made an accident indoors. So yay. This is excluding his “excited pees”, which is when he just can’t help himself because his butt is wiggling so hard that he dribbles, just a little.
-Notice a close resemblance to Sarah? We do too. It’s bittersweet. Bitter because it feels like we’ve simply replaced her in this weird cloning type way and sweet because he is totally his own person (er, dog) and fills some of void left behind from Sarah’s early and traumatic passing.
-I think Hooper remembers Sarah being all up in his space and he seems fine with Jimmie doing the same. In fact, the other day we were scolding Jimmie for jumping on Hooper when Hooper said, “It’s okay Papa, he can jump on me”. Van is not as cool with his personal space being invaded, but is getting used to it. Van likes sitting on him.
-There are three of us in bed now. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but he sure does look comfortable at night. So… whatever.
-We have taken him everywhere we’ve gone since we’ve got him. He’s been alone only twice; once for an hour and once for a half an hour. He’s ridiculously attached to us and will sit by the door and groan anytime one of us leaves.
-He came with the name “Cooper”, which didn’t bode well with “Hooper”, so we renamed him after his previous owner: Jimmie. The nickname game has already begun, starting with Jimbo, Jimmie Boy, Jimbo Slice, and Jimmie Jonkers.
-He needs to be fixed. Otherwise all the lady dogs in the area better watch out. My sister just adopted a new female pup and Jimmie is, um, very fond of her. So much so that they can’t be in the same room ::cough cough::
Before I had my surgery, we used to go to Palm Springs a lot. Willy works out in the desert often, so we’ve always tagged along when we could. It hasn’t been until recently that we’ve had the opportunity to go and that I’ve been able to care for the kiddos on my own, which is typically the case when we go out to the desert and Willy works. It’s been nice to revisit my life that once was and now is, again.
We spent the mornings at the pool while Willy went to meetings, Hooper insistent on keeping his inner-tube on, Van jumping into the pool only to sink like a stone and trust that someone will be there to scoop him up. They can be so different and yet so similar at times.
We added an extra day onto the trip and went out to Joshua Tree and The Salton Sea. I’ve been to The Salton Sea many times in the past and something always brings me back. It’s hot, it’s sticky, it smells like crud, and there’s a thousand flies, but I can never get enough. And so, we drove the hour and a half from Palm Springs to have lunch at my favorite rundown dive bar / restaurant. It’s the only place to get a bite to eat in Bombay Beach and, for me, it never disappoints.
We took a new way home, through mountains and towns we had never seen, and it was beautiful. Life, albeit busy and chaotic, is more-or-less back on track. Can’t believe it’s almost been a year since my surgery.
My kids whine a lot. Hooper more so than Van, due to his age. I don’t think that they are any different than any other kid; all kids whine. I know “I’m bored” is in my not-so-distant-future, but at this point in time it’s a plethora of moans and groans that make my hairs all stand on end and makes me wonder why I drag my kids out of the house ever.
When we first parked at the Salt Lake, it was tantrumville immediately. Being 100 degrees out didn’t help. Nor did the smell of pungent sulfur. Or the abundance – or shall I say downright invasion – of flies or whatever those bugs are that hang out at water’s edge in droves. They whined about going in the water, then they whined when they got in the water but the salt burned, and then – as if a miracle from above – they got over it. All of it. And they, well, enjoyed themselves immensely.
Kids have split personalities. I’m sure of it.
And as the sun went down and we hosed the salt off their skin and clothes, they whined about leaving. And so it goes.
We had stopped to get gas when we ran into a car with three guys in it that introduced themselves as “river guides”. This explained the rafts they were hauling and given the fact we had no plans and a full tank of gas, we joined them. We spent that night on a sandbar underneath the stars.
Fast forward eight years later; driving down the same road reminiscing and praising the angels above that nothing bad ever happened to us, ever, on any of our travels together. And there were many. We passed the same campground we camped at back then; memories of doing our laundry and putting together scrapbooks from our overseas travels we were on before we decided to hit the road. Who knew that visiting a town would unlock little mementos of tiny little memories that would have otherwise been forgotten like leaves falling from a tree and blowing away. Something as simple as a sign alongside the highway that caught your interest way back when, but did nothing for you this go-around.
Back then, we had no iPods and no iPhones. We made CD’s for the road and blasted our favorite ones over and over again. We had a book the size of the yellow pages full of campgrounds and directions of how to get to them. We had maps, for goodness sakes.
As we glanced behind us in our rented minivan, we couldn’t help but giggle about how much has changed; the kids, the car seats, the twin babies on the way, the husbands back home, Siri telling us to “continue to the route”. Damn Siri and her route. Sometimes I just want to tell her to shove it. Or at least hold on for a minute.
But one thing remained the same. Every time we passed a “view point”, we giggled again, thought of Dan Eldon (who was at that time was our idol and in many ways still is), and were reminded – as we were years ago – that the view is always all around you.
We splashed around in the same river that allowed us to rest our tired heads on it’s banks years ago. Janet, feeling weightless. Carla, feeling brave. Hooper, feeling free. Van, dropping a load in his pants that would later roll out and surprise us all. And myself, feeling grateful to add another memory with my best, most treasured friend to the proverbial banks.
Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time. ~John Lubbock
I’m so stoked to have been invited to participate in the “What ____ looks like” blog circle with some other photographers I know and have loved from afar. How it works is simple; we each link to someone else’s post until the circle is complete. If you’d like, you can check out their work by following the circle starting with the lovely Kelsey Gerhard (who I’ve had to opportunity to meet in the flesh, which rocks).
There’s was a period of time, between being a very young adult to now- a mother of two boys- that I didn’t go to the fairs; because who likes long lines, overpriced everything, and hoards and hoards of people? Rhetorical question. But we’ve gone every year since Hooper was old enough to enjoy it; to the LA Fair, the Ventura County Fair, and now, the OC Fair. We go because it’s fun for them.
As we waited in line to park, I glanced over at Willy and said, “Isn’t it crazy that years from now these fairs will be documented in history books?”. I learned all about the world fairs in many of my Humanities courses and each time I see the ferris wheel lit up in the distance, that rush of nostalgia floods my veins and I’m reminded that we are taking part in something that has been around for years and years and years.
And so, we pay the fee to park, wait in the ticket line, purchase overpriced tickets, eat the shitty food that is overpriced too, and spend the day diverting our children’s eyes from things they may be into but we can’t – or don’t want to – afford.
This go around, we didn’t ride any of the rides. It was a bummer because I had built up the excitement for the rides all day. When Hooper woke up from his nap, he said, “We gonna go ride the coasters, mama?”. But the lines were ridiculous and now that Van is big enough to ride to, multiplying the $5-7 fee per ride by two just seemed extreme. Especially when considering that they both cry every time the ride stops and throw a tantrum until they make their way to the front of the line to ride a second time. Ching ching (insert cash register sound). Can I get a collective “not worth it” chant going?
We did fork out the few bucks it cost to see the world’s largest horse (which was male, so insert big cartoon eyes here), as well as the world’s smallest horse and biggest alligator. Can’t say I support parading these poor animals around for people’s amusement, but hey, they all appeared healthy, happy, and cared for. The petting zoo was the highlight. It was free and we spent a long time petting the pigs, donkeys, ducks, chickens, kangaroos, sheep, and other animals I should probably know but I don’t because I’m no longer in the first grade. Oh yes, how could I forget the deer that nearly ate my dress? I had to clean the already-been-chewed deer food off my dress later. Yum.
But far and wide, the highlight was the demolition derby. I had read reviews that weren’t very good but figured the price was fair and thought the boys would enjoy it regardless. It ended up being one of the best shows, ever. We contemplated returning the next evening for the motor home demolition derby. The boys loved it and haven’t stopped talking about it since.
And yet, the best part of the day – for me – was walking to the car with that black and white photo strip in hand. Even if cost six bucks.
The last hoorah. It’s only a few weeks later and already so much has changed. Van and Carla are now both 2. And those babies that had been kickin’ around in Janet’s belly have made their way out, happy and healthy. And so it goes, life runs her course and keeps moving whether your bags are packed or not.
I will be back in the beautiful state of Utah from August 28 through August 31, with bookings available on each of those days. I will then be in Arizona on September 1 & 2 and will be able to take sessions on each of those days as well. If you’re interested in booking a session, kindly email me: ashley@thestorkandthebeanstalk.com. Thank you.
Every year, when our birthdays roll around, Willy and I discuss not what we want but what we would like to do. Sure there’s been years when we’ve exchanged little things here and there, but we tend to value experiences over anything else. Call me a lazy mother, but for Van’s second birthday I didn’t send out invitations, pick a theme, or stop at the store to pick out decorations. It always seems silly to me because my boys are still young and I’m pretty sure a simple cupcake is enough to put a smile on their face. So with a weekend spent with family and friends and numerous trips to the beach, we celebrated Van’s second year of life. And it was a blast.
Congrats to T.h.Ransom for winning the giveaway to UB2. An email has been sent to you. Also, there is still time to enter the giveaway to Sugarboo Designs.
If he covers his eyes with his hands, you have to pretend you can’t see him. It’s our game // Afternoon bike rides // My go-to for inspiration as of late // Handmade shorts from talented friends // Play on the patio // “Not Yet”… // Feathers bathed in soft beautiful light // Evening light // Dirt & grim // Lines & shadows // Bribery // Portrait outtakes // Some dream of Genie, I dream of Cuba.
Mid-week evening outings are my new jam. It feels so good to break up the week and to get outside and take in some fresh air. We’ve been going to Casper’s Wilderness Park to BBQ and it’s quickly become one of our favorite activities.
When the idea popped in my head, I thought I was in over my head; I hate having to bring boat-loads of stuff and try my damnest to cut down on how hard I have to think and plan beforehand. But, really, we didn’t bring or need that much. Some meat, some corn, silverware essentials, drinks, tablecloth and our Bose speaker (which we love and take with us everywhere). It was so easy and carefree.
I spent my birthday more or less in a funk. Willy and I were awoken several times throughout the night by Van, who threw up multiple times and required several diaper changes. Willy took care of all of it and come morning, I felt like no having to care for and clean up after Van was my birthday present. That and the half finished list of things I wanted done around the house. Yes, you read that correctly. For my birthday I gave Willy a list of things to do around the house; things like “clean out the garage”, “add shelf to closet”, and “put toilet paper holder in downstairs bathroom”. And when I woke up in the morning to a sick baby and a garage we still can’t fit a car into, I was a little… I dunno… funkdafied. Oh snap, did I just quote Da Brat? I did. Whatever, it is / was my birthday.
With no real plans, we spent the morning into the afternoon waiting to see what Van had in store for us. I got some terrific massages from Willy (my back, and body for that matter, has been sorer than usual since I started physical therapy a few weeks ago, which makes me grouchy and on edge and is really a whole other blog post in itself), my sister brought me a grilled cheese and fries from Denny’s (cuz’ I eat like a child), and since Van appeared to be back to normal we headed to Crystal Cove beach for dinner. We waited an hour and a half for a table at the Beachcomber, but waiting for a table with the great big Pacific Ocean in front of you really isn’t waiting at all. In fact, it was perfect. I got to shoot a couple of my favorite little people in the most perfect lighting and when I met Willy at the table barefoot and complaining of my last sandals, he miraculously went out and found them sitting by there lonesome in the sand. It was as if the day had said, “don’t judge me so soon”. And then we saw dolphins. I know, I know, it was cray. Shoot me now for saying “cray”.
