Blog a la Cart

A (brief) love affair with the month of January

Sunday was one of those truly magical winter days that had me parading around the house in a full snowsuit with a stupid grin across my face, completely intoxicated by the month of January. This intoxication lasted for all of 24 hours, but I soaked up that sunshine, that “warm,” welcoming 30 degree day and its accompanying fluffy dry snow for all it was worth. The kids went sledding. We turned the dogs into powdered donuts. We did sunbathing the Vermont way. And we let Penelope waltz through our hallway, into the kitchen, and out our back door and back up to the barn. She too was apparently drunk off this brilliant, beautiful day, as she leapt face first into a snow bank and trotted around the yard for a bit before cozying back up in her insulated house and bed of straw.

Oh New England, THIS is how you do winter. Please do it again. Pretty please with a frozen cherry on top.

^^Take note of our Canadian refrigerator, i.e. the cooler we leave outside our kitchen door and use as extended storage during the winter months.^^

^^A tad displeased with the snow on her snout. But we warmed her up with her fleece cape and pile of fleece blankets.^^

^^Gladdy, powdered-donut-in-the-making.^^

^^Vermont sunbathing.^^

^^Supreme disappointment when the wooden sled came to a halt mid-hill. Sunny sat their shaking her head in disapproval. We then pulled out the snow tube for more serious fun.^^

Pig in the House

During Hercules and the resulting Arctic temperatures, we kept Penelope in our house.

Yep. Pig in the house. The laundry room slash downstairs bathroom to be more specific.

Potbelly pigs are from Vietnam. This girl was not equipped for negative temps. And I did not want frozen pork on my hands. So we tender-hearted people welcomed yet another dependent into our home, and weathered the storm as a family. It was rather precious, save bathroom clean up and the snorting and grunting wake up call at 5am when, apparently, she likes to rise.

I must admit, she was super easy and laid back. Just, well, smelly. Like one might expect from a creature whose very species we use as an insult to describe a person’s lack of hygiene.

While Penelope weathered the storm huddled next to our washing machine, I weathered the storm by the side of my dear friend in the throes of labor. Quite a way to make one’s entrance into the world, no? But that’s a story for another day. I’m slowly piecing together the resulting images now that our 2013 Compilation is complete.

Pig in House. Baby in Snowstorm. 2014 is off to an unpredictable and awesome start.

2013 a la Cart

It’s been one week since we rang in the New Year, and we’re ready to share our recap of 2013. Listen carefully to the lyrics and you’ll find yourself giggling at all the wonderful ways James marries image and song. It was a year of ups and downs, and I can’t help but cry at certain moments in the video as I am reminded of the lowest lows and highest highs. I welcomed life, saved life, and let life go. I love the way that the video starts and ends (you’ll see what I mean), a reminder of the cyclic nature of our lives. And of human resilience. That rings true to me above all else. Enjoy…

1/52

“A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2014.”

Sunny: If Santa had only brought her boxes of crayons (which she stores in this Sesame Street plastic drum from my childhood), she wouldn’t have minded in the least. She is a coloring fiend. I love that I find her in the “art station” most afternoons at school. Draped in a smock, brush in hand, covered in drips of the rainbow as flowers and hearts and balloons and people dance across her easel.
Kaki: A camper for a tent and an 80s tee. The kid couldn’t be happier with her Christmas haul.

A new year, another 52 weeks, another 104 portraits. I love this weekly exercise as a way for me to document the small milestones or stories of our year. And I love to see the growth unfold in every image. And to learn more about myself as a photographer. More details about The 52 Project here. To view all the portraits in the series visit here.

Instagram // 2013

Slowly but surely I’m closing the books on 2013. December is such a busy month that I like saving these yearly reviews for the quieter months of January. It gives me the chance to reflect on that past 12 months when I can truly enjoy the process. One of my favorite “traditions” is working with James to create our yearly family video. It’s our version of a photo album, our way of cataloguing the years. It forces me to wade through all of the images from the past 365 days, experiencing them anew and stringing them together in to a story of that year. James is almost finished with the slideshow. I love all the thought and care and attention to detail he puts into these videos each year. It’s fun to catch all the clever pairings of image and lyric that he infuses into each one.

In the meantime, here’s a 30 second round up of my favorite images from my 2013 Instagram feed. I share in that space daily (if not multiple times daily) and love that it’s an on the ground, on the fly representation of our lives. Do follow along @blogalacart.

The 52 Project // 2013

My five favorite portraits of Sunny in 2013.

My five favorite portraits of Kaki in 2013.

In reviewing these images and selecting my favorites, I’m blown away noticing how differently I frame and capture my children. That I’ve chosen these portraits as my favorite, likely because I feel that they best represent each of the girls and the essence of who they are, and that that essence is best captured with such distinct framing and style is striking. Courtland, she who commands a room and ensures that her presence is known, is centered, often staring straight into the camera, grounding every image. Commanding every image. While Sunny, my meeker, gentler child is to the side, never directly confronting the camera. Never demanding that kind of capture but becoming a part of the scene through light or environment. I am so grateful I took the time to review the series and reflect on my own choices as a photographer. How wonderful to see how those choices reflect the very personality of the subject so clearly.

More details about The 52 Project here. To view all the portraits in the series visit here.

Storybook Story

It really was picture perfect. What a treat to revisit that beautiful wedding thanks to this Sunday’s Boston Globe (and the tastes and talents of Amanda & Dave). And that friend that “gathered the planes and strung them together as decoration for the barn where the reception was held?” Hey yo! I wasn’t kidding when I said that I DIYed mid-wedding.

This is Sisterhood

Can you tell who’s the first born in this scenario? I particularly love Sunny’s method of dish disposal.

I must say, when I pictured having two daughters, so close together in age, this is the kind of play I saw in my daydreams. James and I are off stage right, lounging on the couch over cups of tea while the two of them entertain each other. That is until Courtland wrestles Sunny to the ground and she elbow punches in reply because Kaki really didn’t want that piece of cake.

We’ll take what we can.

The Start of the Year

I’m sitting at the top of our stairwell, thumbing through my Facebook feed, reading post after post about the start of the year. Excitement! Joy! Watch out 2014! Can’t wait to see what you have in store!

I scoff incredulously at this virtual feed of connection.

Well I know what’s in store. This. More of this.  

Screams emanate from either side of the stairwell. Cranky, disgruntled children and their rage against the bedtime hour and their parents’ attempts at routine and schedule.

I’m sitting and scrolling and willing them to give up. Please please stop. I feel the frustration welling in my chest. Please stop so I don’t scream back. I know that I’m supposed to be the grown up, but all I want to do is scream and stomp and pound in reply.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this facade of adulthood.

I hate this part of parenting. The battle of wills. The efforts at civilization. If only I could let them be the wild, undisciplined, impolite creatures they crave.

__________________

I retreat downstairs for reserves of vanilla ice cream and hot fudge, this sugary break momentarily staving off my own resentment.

I breeze past James muttering, How is this our life? over the moans still emanating from above.

Do you want me to tag in?

No, it’s fine. You have work to do.

I sullenly slog back up the stairs and am hit by the smell of feces wafting out of the bathroom. A reminder of the toddler accident I’d cleaned up hours before, the aftermath still soiling our home.

The screams turn to whimpers, and I finally duck into Sunny’s bedroom and sit down by her side.

Thank you for settling down. Now you may have a glass of water. Next time, please ask nicely and don’t yell.

Okay, Mommy. I’m sorry I yelled. You know, it’s hard being a kid. Sometimes we forget the rules. Sometimes I wish I were the parent so that I could make the rules. 

It’s hard being a grown up, too. Enjoy being a kid as long as you can. You have plenty of time to be a grown up.

Okay… I love you, Mommy.

Love you too, baby.

I head down the hallway to Courtland. She tackles me in a bear hug.

Rub my hair. Please! A regular demand for a fusion of the back rub/hair play/snuggle trifecta

Yes, okay. Thank you for asking so nicely. No more crying though, okay? It’s time to sleep.

O-tay.

The house lulls to a quiet hum. The frantic screaming turns to lazy breathing.

I’m wrapped in the arms of my child and all that anger and frustration leave my body through the warmth of those tiny fingers and toes.

________________

Yes, I know what the year has in store. This. More of this.

Nemo

Another bird down.

On New Year’s Eve day, Nemo was taken out by a falcon.

While no tears were shed, Sunny remarked, “Aw, that’s sad. She was the most adorable hen!”

And she was. She was absolutely our favorite, as poultry favorites go. Super sweet and easy to handle. A consistent and predictable layer, always sticking to the nesting boxes unlike some of our flock *coughBuntycough*. And she laid the prettiest blue eggs.

Such is life with free range chickens. We’ll be getting chicks in the spring to replenish the flock as we’re now down to four hens.

I can’t help but think that it was because I was about to launch my new blog header, which features only four hens. Sorry, Nemo, in this instance, life imitated art.

While on the subject, many thanks to the talented and wonderful Robbi of Idiots’ Books for the updated header. I needed a new look for 2014 reflecting the shifts in our family. I love the pile of Cartwheel critters, and the nod to critters past. I hope that you too enjoy the change!