A portrait of my children, once a week, every week in 2014.
Henry ~ Admiring his collection of treasures.
Wyatt ~ Making his own morning snack.
A portrait of my children, once a week, every week in 2014.
Last year a couple of the bloggers who I regularly read participated in the 52-week portrait project. That may not be the actual name. I can't find the origin of the project so I don't really know whether there are any rules or whether I should be attributing the idea to someone specific. I am inclined to think there are lots of 52-week portrait projects after searching around on Pinterest this afternoon and so I am doing something similar to what I saw on a few other blogs.
I kinda of lost interest in taking photos for a few months (hence a dry spell in blog posts) and I am hoping this project will inspire me to pick up my camera more often. And hopefully my children will become more comfortable being photographed. They weren't very cooperative this week and my first series didn't turn out as anticipated - why am I not surprised.
Henry ~ He always hams it up for the camera.
Wyatt ~ Just out of the shower, so fresh and so clean clean.
Sometimes I fool myself into thinking that I will post a tutorial for some awesome project. I will take photos that not only capture what fun my family had completing the project but also demonstrate the project step-by-step. What a load of shit!
First of all, our projects never go smoothly. Second, rarely do they turn out as anticipated. And third, taking pictures while also overseeing (otherwise known as doing it all) a project with two seven-year olds totally sucks. It's not at all realistic to think that any child working on a project is enjoying the moment with a parent in his or her face demanding that the child hold that pose or recreate that action. I love a good tutorial and frequent a number of crafty mom blogs for ideas to co-op, but they're not fooling me. I know that it's all fake, fake, fake.
Of course, that doesn't stop me from occasionally trying my hand at a well-photographed project to share with my five readers (Hi Grandma). These failures are a necessary reminder that life is not about taking pretty pictures of your kids doing shit and you attempting to present yourself as a happy and crafty family. Nope, and these failures keep me grounded.
But whatever. I am still sharing our DIY duct tape wallet project! We started with some duct tape leftover from the boys' robot party.
Next we all watched this YouTube video.
And then we got down to work. Watch the video if you're curious about what the working bit entails because this is NOT a mother trucking tutorial (despite my original intention)!!
The tape was sticky (duh), sometimes difficult to cut, and we had to keep stopping to rewatch the actual tutorial. There were also a few distractions along the way.
But eventually I stopped snapping pictures and we were able to assemble two very awesome duct tape wallets just perfect for storing allowance money and library cards!
The next morning I both shamelessly and hopelessly tried to take some quick photos of the boys using their wallets as I was leaving for work. Except they weren't really using their wallets. They were just holding the wallets while watching cartoons, which of course meant they were unavailable to even make eye contact with me as I encouraged (or demanded, same difference) them to show off their wallets. Then I just ended up with really unflattering photos of my children watching TV.
So there you have it. Zombie children and a not DIY duct tape wallet tutorial. Enjoy!
First of all, our projects never go smoothly. Second, rarely do they turn out as anticipated. And third, taking pictures while also overseeing (otherwise known as doing it all) a project with two seven-year olds totally sucks. It's not at all realistic to think that any child working on a project is enjoying the moment with a parent in his or her face demanding that the child hold that pose or recreate that action. I love a good tutorial and frequent a number of crafty mom blogs for ideas to co-op, but they're not fooling me. I know that it's all fake, fake, fake.
Of course, that doesn't stop me from occasionally trying my hand at a well-photographed project to share with my five readers (Hi Grandma). These failures are a necessary reminder that life is not about taking pretty pictures of your kids doing shit and you attempting to present yourself as a happy and crafty family. Nope, and these failures keep me grounded.
But whatever. I am still sharing our DIY duct tape wallet project! We started with some duct tape leftover from the boys' robot party.
Next we all watched this YouTube video.
And then we got down to work. Watch the video if you're curious about what the working bit entails because this is NOT a mother trucking tutorial (despite my original intention)!!
The tape was sticky (duh), sometimes difficult to cut, and we had to keep stopping to rewatch the actual tutorial. There were also a few distractions along the way.
But eventually I stopped snapping pictures and we were able to assemble two very awesome duct tape wallets just perfect for storing allowance money and library cards!
The next morning I both shamelessly and hopelessly tried to take some quick photos of the boys using their wallets as I was leaving for work. Except they weren't really using their wallets. They were just holding the wallets while watching cartoons, which of course meant they were unavailable to even make eye contact with me as I encouraged (or demanded, same difference) them to show off their wallets. Then I just ended up with really unflattering photos of my children watching TV.
So there you have it. Zombie children and a not DIY duct tape wallet tutorial. Enjoy!
Do you know what an alliteration is? I do, except I can never remember that it's call an alliteration. Like I am always needing to make sure it's not an onomatopoeia. I can't keep'em straight!
But an example of an alliteration might be baby bump. Or baby boy bump. Or baby boy Brewer. Or even baby boy Brewer bump, which I took pictures of just before Thanksgiving!
My co-worker Mo and her husband Ryan are expecting their first baby toward the end of the month (hopefully closer to Christmas than New Year's). They wanted some pictures to remember their pregnancy but they wanted to keep them simple and low key. So I stopped by their house one afternoon and snapped a couple of photos - some of my favorite amateur photos to date!
I love the warm cozy feel of the fire and the sweaters and that fake fur thing. I can't wait to get that little baby on that fake fur thing and take a million pictures! It was also fun to watch Mo and Ryan. They are clearly madly in love and over the moon about their baby. I tried explaining this to Stephen with tears in my eyes. I got a blank and bewildered stare from him in return. I just really love babies!!!! Like really. And this little baby is going to be beautiful.
But an example of an alliteration might be baby bump. Or baby boy bump. Or baby boy Brewer. Or even baby boy Brewer bump, which I took pictures of just before Thanksgiving!
My co-worker Mo and her husband Ryan are expecting their first baby toward the end of the month (hopefully closer to Christmas than New Year's). They wanted some pictures to remember their pregnancy but they wanted to keep them simple and low key. So I stopped by their house one afternoon and snapped a couple of photos - some of my favorite amateur photos to date!
I love the warm cozy feel of the fire and the sweaters and that fake fur thing. I can't wait to get that little baby on that fake fur thing and take a million pictures! It was also fun to watch Mo and Ryan. They are clearly madly in love and over the moon about their baby. I tried explaining this to Stephen with tears in my eyes. I got a blank and bewildered stare from him in return. I just really love babies!!!! Like really. And this little baby is going to be beautiful.
After Thanksgiving dinner at Tia-D's house, we stopped by my aunt and uncle's house for even more dessert. We arrived while they were still clearing the dishes and finding room in the refrigerator for leftovers. They were moving and shaking to the hippest late 90s playlist with all the oldies from my short time at U of I. We all migrated to the kitchen where the conversation and booze were both flowing and joined them. Not the cleaning part, just the moving and shaking part. And this naturally lead to the greatest dance party of 2012.
I took my camera along with the intent to snap photos for a calendar I plan on making every year for my grandparents - I've been successful one out of four years now. So this year I've been planning ahead and taking my camera to family events. Only I don't always feel like taking pictures once things get rolling and when I do take pictures, I mostly capture people with awkward looks on their faces in mid-bite or mid-sentence. As you can imagine, these are not family calendar happy memory photos (although every family event is always a happy memory).
As turns out, dance parties don't make for the best calendar photos either. You see, the thing is, when everyone is drinking and dancing and throwing their arms around each other, we all kind of look like we've been partying - if you catch my drift. If you don't catch my drift, let me spell it out for you. I ended up with a bunch of awesome party pictures that I don't necessarily want to preserve for a lifetime in a cherishable calendar Christmas gift.
However, I am totally fine preserving those awesome pictures in a video on YouTube. So Grandma, instead of a calender for Christmas, you get this Thanksgiving video and maybe some potpourri. I hope you like it. It's made with love!
music by kc and the sunshine band
I took my camera along with the intent to snap photos for a calendar I plan on making every year for my grandparents - I've been successful one out of four years now. So this year I've been planning ahead and taking my camera to family events. Only I don't always feel like taking pictures once things get rolling and when I do take pictures, I mostly capture people with awkward looks on their faces in mid-bite or mid-sentence. As you can imagine, these are not family calendar happy memory photos (although every family event is always a happy memory).
As turns out, dance parties don't make for the best calendar photos either. You see, the thing is, when everyone is drinking and dancing and throwing their arms around each other, we all kind of look like we've been partying - if you catch my drift. If you don't catch my drift, let me spell it out for you. I ended up with a bunch of awesome party pictures that I don't necessarily want to preserve for a lifetime in a cherishable calendar Christmas gift.
However, I am totally fine preserving those awesome pictures in a video on YouTube. So Grandma, instead of a calender for Christmas, you get this Thanksgiving video and maybe some potpourri. I hope you like it. It's made with love!
music by kc and the sunshine band
Some time way back in September I started writing a very disjointed post about wanting another baby and realizing that I would never have a daughter. I was somehow going to tie in the fact that upon realizing my baby days were gone, as was the hope of a daughter, I finally parted with the Barbies I'd been storing at my parents house for the last 17 years.
Confession - I played with Barbies way past the age of 12 and then some. I eventually stashed them away in many, many boxes along with my Ramona Quimby doll where they stayed in Tom and Dana's garage until recently. Because like I said, I just gave them away in September. And giving them away wasn't as difficult as I thought it might be. It wasn't all like "oh my god, there go all the memories I won't have!" It was more like "why the hell have I kept this old crap for so long?"
With that realization came other realizations like that I don't really want another baby or a daughter. So I deleted the disjointed post that was trying to make something out of nothing.
Not that I expect you to make this jump in narrative with me, but all that back story leads up to some photos I took a few days after the whole Gifting of the Barbies went down. Because I took photos of the little girl who so graciously received my Barbies and I've been meaning to share them with you.
My friend Amy has photos taken of her daughter each year and asked if I would like the honor of being her photographer this go round. Obviously, I accepted and met their family down by river for a evening photo shoot. My favorite photos from that evening are probably not the photos Amy will pick for her album or place in a frame. They're mostly blurry. Second confession but not nearly as embarrassing - I am drawn to out of focus photos. They say so much more to me.
I think these photos are beautiful and I love them. Many of them remind me of a series of photos I took of myself during my art student days inspired by this Cat Stevens song. And that memory somehow brings us full circle. I am not sure how but it does. Black and white photos. Simple white dresses. The capturing of movement and time. The release of movement and time. Girls. Boys. Children. Self-expression. Contemplation. Acceptance and Love. Life. Cat Stevens.
Confession - I played with Barbies way past the age of 12 and then some. I eventually stashed them away in many, many boxes along with my Ramona Quimby doll where they stayed in Tom and Dana's garage until recently. Because like I said, I just gave them away in September. And giving them away wasn't as difficult as I thought it might be. It wasn't all like "oh my god, there go all the memories I won't have!" It was more like "why the hell have I kept this old crap for so long?"
With that realization came other realizations like that I don't really want another baby or a daughter. So I deleted the disjointed post that was trying to make something out of nothing.
Not that I expect you to make this jump in narrative with me, but all that back story leads up to some photos I took a few days after the whole Gifting of the Barbies went down. Because I took photos of the little girl who so graciously received my Barbies and I've been meaning to share them with you.
My friend Amy has photos taken of her daughter each year and asked if I would like the honor of being her photographer this go round. Obviously, I accepted and met their family down by river for a evening photo shoot. My favorite photos from that evening are probably not the photos Amy will pick for her album or place in a frame. They're mostly blurry. Second confession but not nearly as embarrassing - I am drawn to out of focus photos. They say so much more to me.
I think these photos are beautiful and I love them. Many of them remind me of a series of photos I took of myself during my art student days inspired by this Cat Stevens song. And that memory somehow brings us full circle. I am not sure how but it does. Black and white photos. Simple white dresses. The capturing of movement and time. The release of movement and time. Girls. Boys. Children. Self-expression. Contemplation. Acceptance and Love. Life. Cat Stevens.
I think we slept in a bit on the third day. But really, I don't know. My memory of the small details is starting to fade. I should have written this all down weeks ago.
So on the third day in Paris I think we slept in. Once we were up and about, we packed up our stuff and checked out of the hostel. Our plan that day was to hunt down marionettes for Henry and Wyatt and take a walking tour of the Latin Quarter before boarding a plane to Nice. I have no idea why, but Henry and Wyatt asked for French puppets and wanting to please them, I tried hard to find some - so I guess I did have more than one request on this trip because I made Jack and Dylan spend more hours than necessary looking for French puppets - which we never found!
But while searching for this gift we did eat what Dylan and Jack believe to be the best crepes ever, per the recommendation of some chick Dylan knows. I thought my crepe was just okay and it gave me a tummy ache because it was so big and I had to eat all of it because I hate to waste food. Actually, I did not eat all of my crepe. Dylan eat his entire crepe, some of mine, and a few bites of Jack's. And he never even got a tummy ache. We also stopped by a cafe for coffee both before and after our crepes.
Afterward, we began our walking tour of the Latin Quarter. First we walked through the Jardin du Luxembourg. If I remember correctly (which I probably don't), Stephen and I had a huge fight in this garden about where to eat lunch. I did not fight with Jack or Dylan about where to eat. Instead, I took a few pictures of Jack while Dylan used his smarty pants phone to figure where hell we should be going.
We stopped by the Pantheon. Of course, we didn't pay to enter the building but we did take some quality pictures outside.
Our tour of the Latin Quarter didn't take very long and we decided to visit the Palais Garnier more commonly known as the Opera de Paris - where we did in fact shell out some money to tour the recently restored building. On the way there, Jack snapped a picture of a roasting pig and Dylan was momentarily separated from the group. He apparently has more experience (or balls) when it comes to crossing the street in Paris.
After checking out the theater and the grand architecture, someone suggested we play models to keep ourselves entertained. It could have been Jack but I think it was Dylan.
The night before Dylan left for Paris he ate a bad kebab from a street vendor. This meant he frequently had to excuse himself throughout the day for a good part of the trip. During this particular absence, Jack and I took way too many photos of hallways and mirrors and chandeliers. And we played more modeling but I've spared you from those images.
Once Dylan caught back up with us, we snapped a few more photos and then took him outside to see the view, which was spectacular.
Before boarding the plane to Nice we had to pick up our bags back at the hostel. We stopped for a beer along the way. There was something noteworthy about the beer we ordered but I don't remember what. Maybe it was high in alcohol content. Maybe it was foreign. Maybe it was just hella good. All three seem applicable.
We picked up a few more beers at the airport and finished our ration of bread, cheese, and cured meat. Jack and Dylan added some lettuce to their meal but I thought that sounded absolutely ridiculous. Lettuce!
On the plane I played Angry Birds for the first time. It was fucking stupid. I don't understand the appeal, although I was a natural at hurling those little birds. Jack also spotted a ship burning in sea just as we neared the Nice airport but you can't really see anything in the picture.
We rented a car at the airport and Dylan drove us to Antibes, which is where he lives. Dylan actually drove us everywhere because Jack and I weren't allowed to get behind the wheel. Thus concludes the first part of our trip. I think we got to Dylan's house around 9:30 pm and left the next morning before the sun had risen to set sail on the Mediterranean Sea!
So on the third day in Paris I think we slept in. Once we were up and about, we packed up our stuff and checked out of the hostel. Our plan that day was to hunt down marionettes for Henry and Wyatt and take a walking tour of the Latin Quarter before boarding a plane to Nice. I have no idea why, but Henry and Wyatt asked for French puppets and wanting to please them, I tried hard to find some - so I guess I did have more than one request on this trip because I made Jack and Dylan spend more hours than necessary looking for French puppets - which we never found!
But while searching for this gift we did eat what Dylan and Jack believe to be the best crepes ever, per the recommendation of some chick Dylan knows. I thought my crepe was just okay and it gave me a tummy ache because it was so big and I had to eat all of it because I hate to waste food. Actually, I did not eat all of my crepe. Dylan eat his entire crepe, some of mine, and a few bites of Jack's. And he never even got a tummy ache. We also stopped by a cafe for coffee both before and after our crepes.
Afterward, we began our walking tour of the Latin Quarter. First we walked through the Jardin du Luxembourg. If I remember correctly (which I probably don't), Stephen and I had a huge fight in this garden about where to eat lunch. I did not fight with Jack or Dylan about where to eat. Instead, I took a few pictures of Jack while Dylan used his smarty pants phone to figure where hell we should be going.
We stopped by the Pantheon. Of course, we didn't pay to enter the building but we did take some quality pictures outside.
Our tour of the Latin Quarter didn't take very long and we decided to visit the Palais Garnier more commonly known as the Opera de Paris - where we did in fact shell out some money to tour the recently restored building. On the way there, Jack snapped a picture of a roasting pig and Dylan was momentarily separated from the group. He apparently has more experience (or balls) when it comes to crossing the street in Paris.
After checking out the theater and the grand architecture, someone suggested we play models to keep ourselves entertained. It could have been Jack but I think it was Dylan.
The night before Dylan left for Paris he ate a bad kebab from a street vendor. This meant he frequently had to excuse himself throughout the day for a good part of the trip. During this particular absence, Jack and I took way too many photos of hallways and mirrors and chandeliers. And we played more modeling but I've spared you from those images.
Once Dylan caught back up with us, we snapped a few more photos and then took him outside to see the view, which was spectacular.
Before boarding the plane to Nice we had to pick up our bags back at the hostel. We stopped for a beer along the way. There was something noteworthy about the beer we ordered but I don't remember what. Maybe it was high in alcohol content. Maybe it was foreign. Maybe it was just hella good. All three seem applicable.
We picked up a few more beers at the airport and finished our ration of bread, cheese, and cured meat. Jack and Dylan added some lettuce to their meal but I thought that sounded absolutely ridiculous. Lettuce!
On the plane I played Angry Birds for the first time. It was fucking stupid. I don't understand the appeal, although I was a natural at hurling those little birds. Jack also spotted a ship burning in sea just as we neared the Nice airport but you can't really see anything in the picture.
We rented a car at the airport and Dylan drove us to Antibes, which is where he lives. Dylan actually drove us everywhere because Jack and I weren't allowed to get behind the wheel. Thus concludes the first part of our trip. I think we got to Dylan's house around 9:30 pm and left the next morning before the sun had risen to set sail on the Mediterranean Sea!
