Just letting a LOT of pictures tell our story for now...
7.27.2016
7.25.2016
red and yellow, black and white
I know I'm not the only one who feels somewhat unsettled, who feels like things are especially heavy in the world right now, the politics and prejudices, the police shootings and body shamings.
We are blessedly fine, but there are so many precious others who are not.
I try to do my job here, hope that it will make a difference, wonder if it's enough.
I am fluent in all the root words of my profession, regret and fear, patience, frustration and hope.
The one I lay wide awake with at night, though, is worry. I worry about one more loss, and about why we have not hit our limit. I worry about what lies ahead. I awfulize the future and let the what ifs eat my brain.
It is not the grim and thankless labor, not the loathsome, dreary tasks of parenthood that wear me out. It is the worry.
I want to be able to protect my children from all manner of danger.
There are playground accidents and crib deaths and tree climbing mishaps to avoid, car seat malfunctions and airplane crashes and drowning risks, there are sticks and stones and guns and bombs and words that hurt.
I'm afraid anyone alive is either lucky or tough, or both.
I want my children to help promote change.
I know about the magnitude of all the small moments, about how what I do today might matter in twenty years. I want to be an okay mom, to provide an adequate upbringing. I know I don't need to save the universe, but I do want to be part of the hope.
I want the boys to know there is more than one way to change the world.
And I want them to know they are loved.
We are blessedly fine, but there are so many precious others who are not.
I try to do my job here, hope that it will make a difference, wonder if it's enough.
I am fluent in all the root words of my profession, regret and fear, patience, frustration and hope.
The one I lay wide awake with at night, though, is worry. I worry about one more loss, and about why we have not hit our limit. I worry about what lies ahead. I awfulize the future and let the what ifs eat my brain.
It is not the grim and thankless labor, not the loathsome, dreary tasks of parenthood that wear me out. It is the worry.
I want to be able to protect my children from all manner of danger.
There are playground accidents and crib deaths and tree climbing mishaps to avoid, car seat malfunctions and airplane crashes and drowning risks, there are sticks and stones and guns and bombs and words that hurt.
I'm afraid anyone alive is either lucky or tough, or both.
I want my children to help promote change.
I know about the magnitude of all the small moments, about how what I do today might matter in twenty years. I want to be an okay mom, to provide an adequate upbringing. I know I don't need to save the universe, but I do want to be part of the hope.
I want the boys to know there is more than one way to change the world.
And I want them to know they are loved.
7.24.2016
a reminder that all the wild things do not live at my house
We were invited to join a zookeeper and some animals behind-the-scenes last week. On the drive there, Tolliver talked about hoping to hold a baby dolphin. Or a sting ray. Or a Pokemon.
Those hopes were dashed, but it should be clear from the pictures that he was far from disappointed.
Those hopes were dashed, but it should be clear from the pictures that he was far from disappointed.
animals in order of appearance: dingo, armadillo, palm civet, kangaroo, penguin, cheetah, bear cat, anteater
*photos by Juliet Carey
7.19.2016
cropping life into a series of square photographs
This collection covers almost two months' time.
And I feel compelled to note: These snippets do not lie, but they're never the whole truth either...
1. dominating the dance floor in Kentucky2. Corvette Museum
3. a bunch of fine men
4. I am basically a professional boy bather
5. a solid rendition of A Song About Cats
6. power tools: the parenting intersection of pride and terror
7. poolside
8. summer in full swing, at North Bank Park
9. slow mornings, sweet breakfasts
10. last day of first grade
11. strawberry picking with friends
12. Charles times two
13. eight years ago, at Inniswoods #awarenessweekend
14. celebrating 90 with Grandpa Jim
15. the happiest
16. tennis lessons
17. tastes like summer
18. peonies on the counter #kitchenchurch
19. darling boy
20. love is love
21. Battelle Darby hike
22. at three months
23. all the Ohio weather awards
24. celebrating baby John #gillsgirls
25. fourteen years
26. anniversary pregame
27. fishing at Poppy's #happylachian
28. almost heaven
29. hey girl
30. cherry picked
31. never met a creek they could stay out of #battelledarby
32. our little sum thucker, at four months
33. saturdayzzzzz
34. downtown adventures
35. backyard books
36. more fishing, Chadwick Arboretum
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