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.
We stopped for Mexican food at one of those hole-in-the wall places that boast the best reviews before heading out to the wetlands, our first outing out as a family of 5 and not a single picture of sweet Sonny – asleep for much of it – in his carseat to show for it.
A few wrong turns later and we were worried we’d make it at all, the last of the bird photographers packing up their long lens as we made our way across the wooden bridge, sightseeing along the way; the contrasting white heron against the darkness of the water and the setting sun casting all sorts of beautiful colors in a sky that looked edible, like cotton candy. Ever trying to tire these boys out, I let them run. And run. And run. Much of what I seemed to capture this evening was of the backs of their sweet heads and on an evening such as this, when simply getting out the front door feels like a feat, I could have cared less to capture anything at all.
And if a good evening doesn’t end with a nice long leak in nature, I don’t know what does.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
*Also, I’ll be taking over the Childhood Unplugged feed the week of Mother’s Day… Use hashtag #cu_motherhood for a chance to be featured. Love sharing all your precious moments with your littles.
It brings me so much pleasure to introduce you to one of my favorite photographers to date, Niki Boon; someone’s whose work I’ve long followed via Facebook and perhaps one of the only reasons I stay on or even log in these days. She’s a relatively new member to our Childhood Unplugged group as well and fits the bill as well as anyone could; living a life off the grid, covered in mud, and outside of the norm. For me, she captures childhood like no other, her images being further complimented by her and her family’s lifestyle itself. Phenomenal self-taught photographer, living life extraordinaire… with no further adieu, I welcome Niki Boon.
Where do you live and how would you describe your home?
We live in the south island of the New Zealand, in a region called Marlborough. We live in a big old wooden house on a 10 acre lifestyle property. Our house has a bit of history as it was part of the a local catholic school’s boarding house before it was moved to this site by a previous owner. Our property has a variety of animals and a small vineyard on it. What do you and your husband do for work?
Prior to our decisions to homeschool our children I was worker part –time as a physiotherapist. My husband currently works in finance. Can you touch on each of your children as a subject; how are they different to capture? What do each of them bring to the table? Does one enjoy being in front of the camera more than another? Please provide your favourite portrait of each of them along with this question.
Each of four children are quite different from each other in everyway, which makes for some ‘interesting’ interaction during our days. I don’t know that any of them enjoy the camera more than the others, I think they all accept the camera as part of their , and that if they go anywhere with me , it will be present, certainly none of them play up for it… they generally don’t acknowledge it all , unless I draw attention to it, so there doesn’t seem to be any theatrical performances from any of them at all, at least not for the camera. Occassionally , if I ask for them to repeat something , or just to hold it for a second… then it is usually the younger two and occasionally my eldest that are a little more open to helping me out with that. You’re not on instagram, but if you were, you’d have loads of images deleted from your account due to “nudity” as your children are often topless. Can you discuss your (presumed) frustrations with the sexualization of young girls? And perhaps touch on your children’s own feelings – even if there are none – toward being topless or even naked in front of one another.
Part of our decision to homeschool our children was so they could develop a strong sense of self without the societal pressure that exist in our world right now, they will be and already are subjected to all the judgement and beliefs that are out there already. I believe very strongly in a degree of freedom that we all possess, and that includes with our body’s. It saddens me that there are others out there that struggle with that. My children think nothing of how they present themselves in day to day life at home, and I celebrate (and document) that. As they grow , I see them becoming more aware of both themselves and how they are viewed by others, it is the world we live in , but hope that I have given them the experience of freedom enough for a base from which to both stand strong grow in this world of judgement we exist in today. I think those of us that are driven to document can error on the side of obsession at times. Does anyone in your family get bothered by the documentation of their lives? If so, how do you navigate around this?
My children are so used to having the camera around now, that they react very little to it. I generally captured play as it unfolds, but occasionally I might ask them to do something again, or hold it for just a second, and they will sometimes get a bit frustrated with this, which is a reminder to me that I back out just a bit, and to put the camera down too.
I know more about what I am after in a photo now, and when I have got what I am after , which also means that I spend less time with the camera in front of my face , and more interaction with my kids than I used to. Although I will admit , I am just as obsessive as other documentary photographers at times.
Cousins at home
The good majority of your images are shot outdoors, what percent of your day would you say you guys spend outside? What does a typical day look like? How do your activities change with the seasons?
We do spend a lot of time outside, yes. But I think it is also because I am also more inspired to shoot outside than inside.
Our activities change a little with the colder weather , often to involve more time inside, but we will still adventure to nearby beaches,rivers and bush frequently , just that the adventures we have there differ. What kind of chores do each of your children have around the house?
The children are all responsible, at least in part to look after the animals, all that entails. They also assist at times on the vineyard. There are also the regular housekeeping jobs, washing, dishes , cleaning etc… They are all expected to help out to complete all that needs to be done morning and night. They don’t have a specific job list , but rather encouraged to use their initiative (with a few whack of verbal prompting !!!) I once watched the documentary “Surfwise” about a father that raised his family in various RVs on various beaches; modern day “unschooling”, I suppose. How would you defend the way you raise your children to those who say that kids that are raised this way are at a disadvantage should they chose to be a part of the larger society they’re apart of?
I haven’t seen that movie, but I have heard about it.
I used to take a defensive stand with our choices when talking to others who had strong opinions on what we were doing , but these days I tend to just listen to them , and sometimes I will explain a little more about what we are doing and how philosophies behind our choices, but others times I am happy just to acknowledge that everyone has their opinions, and that it is OK to just nod and smile and thank them for sharing them with me.
I feel our kids are suitably out there in society to know how it all works, at least to the best of their ability at their ages.They interact with a wide range of the community on a daily basis and have a pretty down to earth and real set of parents to make sure the kids are seriously grounded. Can you touch on your children’s relationship with technology. Do they have one? Do you feel like they’re missing out when compared to gadgets other kids have? Is it ever a struggle to pull them away from screens or hand-held devices?
We don’t have a TV. Although they are on special occasions (birthdays or sickness) able to watch the odd movie on our computer. We own an ipad, but it is not free for all. Our kids have never and still don’t ask for TV or use of electronic devises. I guess they have never had them, so don’t know they are missing out. Am I worried they are missing out? No … they is coming a time when they will be accessing the computer for research and in small ways is is happening now, and as they get older I am sure that will increase significantly as their needs change. But when they are young I feel it is so important for them to learn about the world they live in , by experiencing first hand , with their feet on the ground, hands on the creatures and plants, noses in the air, and tongues in the rain… with all their senses.
What do you shoot with? What’s your favorite lens?
I shoot with a canon 5d mk iii , and currently almost always use a 35 mmm 1.4 lens. I love this lens, it took a while for me to get used to how to use it well, but I think I am getting better. It allows so much of the story in front of me to be told, and lets me play around with composition in the process, which is awesome when I have so so much still to learn about all things composition and light.
Many thanks, Niki, for taking the time. If you’d like to check out more of Niki Boon’s body of work, you can find her here, here, and here.
Snapped these shots, pre-Sonny, of the boys on an evening where they became more familiar with stinging nettle than they’d like, but had fun nonetheless.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
Before we dropped Willy off at his meeting he told me, “Just don’t let the boys touch the fish or go in the water”. But within minutes, fish were touched and there wasn’t any winning that battle; pieces of fish bone crunching beneath their sledge covered shoes and falling through the crevices between their fingers. Holding up varying degrees of rotting carcasses, “Mama, is this one okay to pick up?”, proving needless to answer given the fact whatever fish they were inquiring about was already in their little grubby hands. “Van, keep your thumb out of your mouth” the only request I could muster at that point.
The Salton Sea; so beautiful on the eyes, so hard on the nose. This trip, however, proving not so bad on the ol’ sniffer. Not one complaint from the boys, actually, who – in the past – have been turned off by the stench of those rotting carcasses.
They climbed rocks, fell on rocks, made footprints in contaminated mud that made me cringe about the thought of those shoes later having to come off and me, invariably, having to touch them to do so. But as the sun fell and the water turned to glass I opted to rely on a faint hope that I would find some hand sanitizer in the car and with that hope I let go of whatever reservations I had. I suppose that’s what happens when in the presence of beauty. We watched the birds fly overhead, a line of other photographers slowly lining the shoreline and mimicking the arrangement of the flying birds themselves; one evenly spaced, straight line. Reflections of wood posts that used to anchor yachts that have since left for other waters, cleaner waters, mirroring the reflection of the mountains and making it all look like a Salvador Dali painting leaving one to question which end is up. Fish carcasses tossed back into the waters that have discarded them – killed them – breaking the glass-like appearance and sending ripples outward, stillness turned to movement; the silence broken. The color palette of the sky subtly changing.
We made our way back, the nights sky illuminated by what appeared to be a full-moon. The water turned back to glass, silence reigning once again in the wake of the exit of two little boys who did their damnest to return those dead fish to their home in the sea, the Salton Sea; ever beautiful, ever polluted. One of life’s most interesting conundrums. One of my favorite places.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
An evening spent digging, chasing, climbing, and – in true kid fashion – ripping flowers out of the ground, roots n’ all.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
“I want my children to be art literate and to understand as much as they can about my processes. If I have a set idea in my mind, I’ll ask them to do it and if they like the sound of it they will. Sometimes they don’t like the sound of it and they wont. I have a picture I like of my oldest son posing in a flower crown in our back garden, he looks so serene and earthy, he was at the time sitting giving me a list of reasons why he should be allowed to have a computer games console in the house. Another time I let him stick his fingers up to swear as part of a photo trade. I am trying to move in a bit of a different direction with my pictures at the moment and pose them less. I’m really just trying to catch them as they are, I like this idea of collecting a series of what may look like film stills. I realised that the kids were starting to get bored by me, and I was of myself too.”
I posted an interview I did with Polly Alderton, from @dollyandfife, over on the Childhood Unplugged blog. You can check it out by clicking here.
I swear it’s impossible to get the boys into the car these days without some conglomeration of what they refer to as their ‘bad-guy-stuff’, which really is an assortment of shields and swords and various accessories that seem to rotate in and out. So the other day we packed up the ‘bad guy stuff’ and headed for our favorite wilderness park in search of bad guys, obviously. What we found instead were some wild mushrooms, lots of puddles, and even some turkey vultures.
It was quiet, the dew on the leaves a lingering reminder of the rain that fell on our drive out. We climbed some trees, followed a dirt path to a patch filled with wild cacti, and ended the morning at the playground (which is within the wilderness park as well and is most always empty).
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
Delving into my images from Cuba feels like a daunting task given how many images I snapped while there. But starting here, with some childhood unplugged (the abroad edition) feels like a good start. In fact, this is the very reason taking the boys – despite the possibility they may never remember such a trip – was important to me.
An excerpt from Lonely Planet (my go-to guide book for all international travel — not sure how anyone functions without it): “Welcome to a culture where children still play freely in the street and wait staff unconsciously ruffle your toddler’s hair as they glide past your table on their way back to the kitchen. There’s something wonderfully old-fashioned about kids’ entertainment here, which is less about sophisticated computer games and more about messing around in the plaza with an improvised baseball bat and a rolled-up ball of plastic”.
Five years ago when Willy and I went to Cuba sans kids (well, Hooper was growing in my belly), we brought an assortment of baseball cards, balls, and t-shirts. We had less room to bring such niceties this time around, but we did manage to bring some coloring books and matchbox cars. Both kids were rather disgusted about giving away brand new cars, but Hooper quickly came around when he witnessed the joy it brought other little boys. Van… not so much. And that’s okay (he is 3, after all).
There is so much life and energy on the streets of Havana; women sitting in simple lounge chairs on the sidewalk, men playing dominos on the street corner, and kids – tons of kids – kicking soccer balls around or playing a game of stickball. It’s so different from the sterility that fills the majority of neighborhoods here in America and perhaps the number one thing that will always draw me to Cuba.
All groups of children were inviting and allowed the boys, despite the inability to speak the same language, to partake; the older boys actually bringing balls over to the boys to give them more of a fair chance at play.
I’m always amazed by the stray dogs and their ability to navigate the streets; their know-with-all and ability to survive the same streets that has me holding my boys’ hands a little tighter despite the fact I most always trust them to walk independently. The kids of Cuba are the same way — street smart; they’re little hearts don’t even seem to miss a beat as they hop barefoot over a pile of who-knows-what, collect their balls and their makeshift wooden goal posts, and move to the side to let some exhaust blowing classic car zoom by. No parents rushing to their rescue, no parents even overseeing the fairness of the game nor the safeness of the field.
The boys also had a blast with the kids that lived next door to the house we rented a room in… crazy, again, how not a word spoken is understood and yet they all run and slam their cars into one another the same. Those boys that lived next door were so warm and inviting and it was Hooper’s favorite pastime during the few hours when Van would nap. And, perhaps the part that warms my mama heart most, he was always invited. Always (as was I – and my camera, for that matter). And each time, the group of kids seemed to change… cousins or other neighborhood kids added in or taken away from the core few.
I’ve always more-or-less advocated for the free-range childhood movement and Cuba seems like the epitome of such; only without the stupid gimmicky title. Over there, it’s not some sort of renegade parenting cliche, it’s just the way.
I’m not sure what the boys will remember of Cuba years from now, but I hope images like these joggle memories and remind them that their parents put up with a lot of the hardships that come with traveling (do I even need to add “with children” because shit, traveling alone is hard) because we believe in it’s importance.
More from Cuba to come… no promises on how soon because, well, the house is an absolute disaster… we have construction that seems to start and stop whenever our super great (please read my sarcasm) contractor decides to start, stop, and restart again (I won’t even mention the fact that we had an upstairs bathtub leaking into our downstairs kitchen), piles and piles of laundry, a growing list of things that need to be sold / donated / thrown away, and the ever-present upkeep with The Bee & The Fox, which following the weekend holiday has me wondering if I can stay afloat.
In any event, please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
“I don’t think you need to live in the country to let your kids have this freedom though. Nature is everywhere, it’s in that patch of grass on the corner of the road, it’s in that wet, muddy puddle, it’s the slug hiding under the bin. When I stand in the playground and hear parents telling their kids off for getting dirty hands, or mud on their school tops, or telling them to put down that ‘gross creature’, my heart shatters.
Letting your kids get mucky, letting them explore and be free is so important. It fosters excitement and respect for the world around them. Nature is all around us, accessible and free which is hugely liberating to most children who spend so much of their lives being told what they can and can’t do. They can really push their limits, creatively, intellectually and physically, when they are outside. The sense of achievement from things like, lighting your own fires or climbing trees is never forgotten.
Let your children embrace nature, and let them be free and unrestricted, let them take off their shoes and get mucky, let them swim in the sea with all their clothes on, let them laugh when they tread in a cow pat and I have no doubt your kids will be 100% happier and more confident as adults. In fact, I think in many ways, it is the only hope for the human race, without these people with a love and affinity for this world we are doomed, hopefully our kids will do a better job than we have.” – Jess Soper
I had the wonderful pleasure of interviewing photographer Jess Soper over on the Childhood Unplugged blog. You can read the full interview by clicking here.
When you’re a child, you seem to simply accept the world for what it is; trees that are over a thousand years old don’t take your breath away in quite the same way as it does when you’re an adult. I guess that’s why living through your child’s eyes is all the more exciting… because you get to experience things that – with any luck – you may have experienced years ago but with a whole new appreciation and outlook.
The boys enjoyed their usual: collecting sticks, stealing the far superior walking sticks Willy and I would come across, and yelling loud enough to hear their echoes. Given the fact we were in the company of the Redwoods, they also enjoyed climbing in, under, through, and on top of the roots and fallen trees.
We drove up the hill, past the Redwoods, to catch the sunset at a spot I had located the day prior when shooting a wedding. From the clearing, we had an expansive view of the mountains, all covered in trees; the light draping different colors amongst the different layers as the sun settled beyond the horizon. The boys ran amuck, per usual, catching the occasional lizard and proving their lizard-catching-skills to be beyond the stage of requiring help or assistance. The handling of said lizards, however, is another tale.
Not pictured is the dinner that followed that consisted of numerous timeouts outside and a screaming three year old face down on the concrete sidewalk. In that moment, I longed to be buried back in the Redwoods where perhaps the echoes of his own yells could scare him silent.
More pictures from our time in Guerneville soon to follow, with any luck at least…
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
A while back I featured an image of Dara Scully’s on the @childhoodunplugged instagram feed and immediately it drew a lot of attention; a few were disgusted by her work while others defended it. I’ve loved her work ever since I first laid eyes on it and I embrace the fact that some of the images make the viewer a bit uncomfortable. With all due respect to the artist, I wanted to give Dara an opportunity to discuss her vision and her philosophy of childhood. I think her thoughts on it all are very beautiful and raw. You can head over to the Childhood Unplugged blog to check it out. Please show her your love and respect.
The calendar says it’s fall and minus the fact it’s getting darker a lot earlier, it still feels a lot like summer here in California. That didn’t stop us from diving into what has become one of our favorite fall traditions, however, and we set out to Casper’s Wilderness Park to BBQ and, of course, hunt for bears.
Hoping that despite the busy fall schedule we can continue with this fall tradition; so simple and yet so enjoyable (minus the fact that baths are a must as soon as we get home). If only they allowed dogs… that’s my only complaint.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
“Time goes by so quickly. I would like my photos to allow my children to dive back into their childhood when they are adults and feel past emotions. These photographs can be a good help to build themselves as parents. We understand our children better when we remember the child whom we once were and how we lived.”
There’s a fantastic interview with French photographer Alain Laboile over on Childhood Unplugged that I urge all of you to check out.
I just went in to peak on the boys sleeping. You know how some nights you just have to do that to remind yourself of their innocence? A reminder, I suppose, that they didn’t mean it when they spit at you or told you that you’re not their friend because the milkshake you bought them with dinner was not, in fact, a dessert because it was served with dinner.
I’ve been so exhausted lately and this weekend was no exception. Willy was in Austin for a bachelor party and given the fact it was the first week of school, and the dreaded school schedules – which is relatively new to us anyway – it was a hard, long week. And despite having an immaculate house on Friday, by Saturday morning, just about every room was in complete disarray. The pizza box from Friday night’s dinner is still sitting on the bar top.
It’s been harder to keep the boys entertained in the house. We live in a townhome, so every time I have to tell the boys “no” to going outside or to riding their bikes, I feel like a chump. I wish it were as easy as opening a screen door and letting them run free while I watch from the kitchen window and, oh I dunno, throw away that damn pizza box.
More times than not, it’s just easier to pile everyone in the car – Jimmie included (because he’s still anxious as ever about us leaving) – and head to the beach. And so, we did.
When we got to the local burger joint, I realized I forgot Hooper’s shoes and instantly felt gratitude for the forgiveness shown by living in a beach city. I also laughed to myself as I looked at Van, fully decked out in socks and shoes (the kid is quite particular about what goes on his feet these days), and poor Hooper with his dirty, grungy feet (who never even pointed out the fact he didn’t have shoes because, well, quite honestly it happens often).
We got to the beach just a bit before sunset and lined up next to the regular campers that seem to line Doheny in the summertime, and year-around, really. The boys finished their milkshakes and made a haphazard attempt at eating enough of their cheeseburgers to make a parent feel adequate about calling it dinner before running off to touch enough things that made picking their cheeseburgers back up not really an option anyway (how’s that for a run-on sentence? I’m tired. Did I say that?).
We stayed just long enough for the calm to wash away whatever difficulties the weekend had brought and when the boys made the argument that the milkshake they had with dinner was not dessert, I had just enough to patience to hold strong and explain, albeit numerous times, that it was indeed a treat.
And now, as they sleep so peacefully, clinging to the blankets they’ve had since they were babies, side by side in a shared room, I can look back on the day and feel good about it. And even better about the fact that the nap I literally snuck in earlier today granted me the energy to stay up and put thoughts into words; which is a luxury I have not had enough of as of late.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
Taking kids to over 2 million acres of preserved beauty is kind of like making them sit in a calculus class; it’s just over their heads.
I remind myself often that it’s not about the understanding of the enormity but about the experience, the feelings, and the memories created in the presence of such enormities. So when a geyser explodes a hundred feet in the air and the boys are too busy digging dirt with their bare hands, I let it go. And when they’d rather tantrum on the boardwalk, I let that go too.
That said, they did appreciate all the wild animals (even the Bison poop, that Hooper sunk his hand into thinking it was a piece of wood) and handled all the time in the car like the true car dogs that they are. We got home after midnight so it was a long day for all of us. And yet, I can’t wait to do it again. I’m so grateful for our National Parks.
I’ll be sharing more images from our time in Montana soon.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
The Childhood Unplugged group posts once a month and most months I I have something to share without putting much thought or intention into it being for Childhood Unplugged; we unplug naturally and often, if you will. But this month was a different story and with all of our comings and goings as of late, I realized that we had not been out much… away a lot, yes, but not out… not taking in local nature…
Traveling is two sided in that sense; on one hand, it’s nice to explore new (or even already known) places and on the other hand, waiting for you to return is a long laundry list (pun intended) of things to catch up on. And that’s where we’ve been — trying to stay afloat the piles of dirty laundry, the overflowing trash bins, and the list of things around town we need to do… like register Hooper for transitional kindergarten, which brings with it it’s own scavenger list of ‘to-dos’.
So I shot this month’s Childhood Unplugged post with intent and, for me, last minute. We went down to the harbor and let the kids run and climb and toughen their bare feet.
The boys made quick friends with another little boy and together the three of them explored, had sword fights (of the urination variety), and ran as free as the breeze. We talked with the boy’s father who shared the loss of his wife (she died during childbirth) and it dawned on me that going out and talking to strangers is a lost art. People are so stuck in their own worlds. And yet we all have such important and interesting and captivating stories to tell. All of us.
I won’t be waiting until the end of next month like I did this go-around.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed. Please also tag your photos with #cu_mothers and #cu_fathers, as I’ll be taking the feed the weeks of Mother’s and Father’s day.
An evening spent at the beach, eating pizza for dinner and ice cream for dessert, watching the trains roll by, the sunset, and “gunning” all the passersby who very kindly obliged by stickin’ them up, each and every one of them; boys being boys, kids being kids, barefoot with snot running from their noses, and one happy dog who ate all the left over bits of crust. Childhood, unplugged.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed. Please also tag your photos with #cu_mothers and #cu_fathers, as I’ll be taking the feed the weeks of Mother’s and Father’s day.
Every now and again I moderate the Childhood Unplugged feed over on instagram and I love it. There are so many wonderfully talented photographers out there and it brings me great joy to feature a small sector of them. Parenthood is one of the greatest sacrifices I’ve made, but when I see my boys engaged with nature or one another, trying new things, overcoming old obstacles, or even just at peace in a moment of time, I sold on the fact that it’s all worth it.
If you’re on instagram, tag your photos with #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured. We’ve also started a new weekly hashtag, introducing a new theme each week in addition to our regular scheduled unplugged moments. I’ll be hosting the weeks of Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, so feel free to tag your images with your littles with #cu_mothers and #cu_fathers respectively.
Van’s latest obsessions include both the ukulele and a cowboy hat. He asks me to clap along and I always oblige.
Hooper’s latest obsession is roly polies in a cup. I guess it’s only fair on the days that we don’t get out to bring the outside, in.
Please join me in supporting the other photographers participating in the Childhood Unplugged movement by clicking here to see all our submissions. You can also follow us on instagram (@childhoodunplugged) and be sure to use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured on our Instagram feed.
