A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.

I didn’t stop loving my husband when my children were born, but love – in general – became redefined. My love for my children was all-consuming and nothing in the world seemed to measure up to the love I had for them. I’m speaking in past tense, but my love for them today is the same.

I payed less attention to my marriage in those early days as my new motherly instinct took over. I didn’t love Willy any less, per say. Rather, I had one little man whose life literally depended on me and one real man who was more or less capable of caring for himself. And so my attention went to my son.

And then, before we knew it, there were two. Everyone says your love multiplies and while I agree with a few astrics attached, I’d argue further that your attention gets divided. And suddenly, Willy fell further from the front of my mind. I didn’t nurture our relationship like I once did. In fact, at times I’d say I even resented what seemed to be an uneven amount of “shared” responsibility. I had envisioned entering motherhood as a team and the reality of it was that I somehow had more responsibilities; my life felt more heavily impacted.

As a side note, our marriage didn’t suffer. I can’t say that this was a hard time for us or that we fought a lot; Rather, there was a lot of adjusting and sorting and trying to keep our heads above water and life continued on and eventually we got our bearings as new parents. A lot of what I’m saying now are things that I’ve recognized in hindsight.

And so, at the start of 2013 when I thought about joining Jodi’s 52 week project, I thought of my husband.

You see, having a second kid has a way of knocking you over the head. When Van came along, our world became chaotic. Not necessarily all at once, but gradually. I mean two kids so close together in age is hard. And at some point in the shuffle I remember looking over at Willy and feeling overcome with gratitude. He is my partner. I get to navigate my way through this chaos with him, my best friend.

It’s funny… You spend your young adult years dating and searching for the “one” and, if you’re lucky, you find him and chose him to be your husband. Then, a few years later – if you’re lucky again – you give birth to a child that granted you don’t really know at all. And suddenly you forget all about the one you’ve chosen and become all consumed with a complete stranger.

In any event, I was called to shoot my husband for this 52 week project for reasons I didn’t fully understand in the beginning. But now, 52 weeks later, the reason for the calling is clear: A reminder, perhpas, that I chose him. And I’m oh-so-glad I did.

I love you, Willy. Thanks for letting me put my camera in your face or behind your back or over your head. You’re a real trooper.

Not sure what I’m going to shoot for next year’s project. I gather I have a week to think about it.

You can check out the complete series by clicking here.

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.

You can check out other posts in the series here.

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.