Everyday Moment

Sharp mood change with a documentary image. Couldn’t resist the softness of the grain or those tiny little toes, though. 🥰 She’s been sick for a loooooong time. Is this just how Oct-Feb goes now??? It might be 🤔 Every week or so we’ll have about 12-24 hr where I think she’s going to clear this thing, then the next wave of runny nose etc hits. I finally took her in and got some antibiotics for an ear infection which hopefully kills whatever else might be hanging on as well. Our local children’s hospital is at capacity & beyond with RSV & influenza cases and I’d gladly choose home over that so I can’t complain too much. But I’m bummed that we’re not getting a lot done in this pre-k school year. That & Mom could use a break… or at least a break from catching all the germs myself 😷🤒👎🏻 Lydie’s been cheerful, though! You’d never know a thing was wrong with her by her attitude or the way she sings songs all day, bless her heart. 💛

Balance

Every year around this time I start thinking about goals. It’s part of my intentional review of the year and evaluation of “next steps” needed & desired. This year’s themes were hope & balance. Going into the year I was anticipating a lot more yoga/restoration vibes, but as my journey unfolded, it turned out that my personal quest for balance involved a lot more analysis and elimination of unhealthy or distracting elements than I could have ever imagined. It was a lot more “boot camp” than the “spa day” I had envisioned 😂 The migraine crisis played a big role in that, but it’s gone a lot deeper, and we’ve left no stone untouched. In fact I feel as if I’ve had the opportunity to pick up every weight & measure in my life, examine it, heft it in my heart & hands and evaluate: does this serve me? Does this contribute to my wellbeing? Does this make sense? Many results have been surprising, bringing about changes I never saw coming. And I would say it’s still an ongoing process—figuring out how much this scale can hold and what the optimal operating balance is. I don’t think my scale ever holds still in perfect equilibrium for long, either… not in this life. Interesting how that word of intention “balance” took on such a life-changing dynamic in 2022. It’s good to reflect. As crazy and hard as this year has been, I think ultimately the great unloading & restructuring, & the critical thinking as well, will serve as a catalyst for good new growth, exhausting as the process has been. Gardening is never easy, but we live for the promised flowers.

Room to fly

I woke up this morning with an essay on my mind. Not one of mine; one by the far greater Annie Dillard—one that I read in college and have never forgotten. One that horrified me with its importance and applicability. It’s called “The Fixed.” Annie is 10 and her elementary school class is watching a moth develop at school. It’s in the cocoon stage—just about to hatch. The teacher allows all the children to hold the cocoon and connect with the life inside before placing it in a mason jar to let the moth complete its transformation. The moth struggles and breaks free of its cocoon at last! But it is a Polyphemus Moth, and they are very large—too large to fit in mason jars. The result is that the moth is unable to fully spread his wings, and he becomes crippled forever.

As I said, I woke up thinking of this essay. The thousands of times and ways we as humans, especially women, put each other in mason jars in our most vulnerable moments. Surround the jar with our posse and criticize instead of aid. We women are experts at this—but the same message could be applied to any man, any child, any majority v. minority, any political party, anyone.

Too often we restrict or without compassion decree for our own convenience, “You can only be THIS BIG/THIS SHAPE. Take up THIS MUCH space.”

Or in extreme cases: I define what you are in THIS mason jar.

And the results are tragic. So many flightless moths, crippled and crawling away.

I’ll link the essay here. You’ll never forget it.

National Park Love

We are fortunate to live in Utah, home to five National Parks: the Big Five, as they’re known. I grew up with parents who got me out into nature and taught me to love and respect it, and that’s what we’re trying to do with our own kids. The great outdoors is where we as a family connect and find the greatest joy together.

I’m passionate about preserving outdoor spaces for my children & future generations—and not just the big places like National Parks. The challenges of our generation require us to do more to preserve the incredible gifts we’ve been given. I’m trying to raise my kids to be conscientious of the environmental concerns around us as we try to be part of the solution.

Images: My boys playing at the trailhead to the Narrows at Zion National Park; My son riding the park shuttle which turned out to be one of our fav parts of the trip! #am_nationalparks #mangosdozion @generationcarbon

Just Capture It

Feeling a pull back to my camera and documenting the little things. Her little fingers dripping water spoke to me. 💛 *** On taking the shot… I used to worry about not living in the perfect Pinterest house when taking pictures. I started documenting my kids 9 years ago. We’ve moved 8 times since then including several cross-country moves; have lived in teeny student apartments, basement apartments, bunked with grandparents for months, lived in our own home under extensive renovation projects (still ongoing)—the works. This is what I’ve learned: All of those unideal surroundings will exist wherever you go, and they will always be changing. Everyone dislikes SOMETHING about where they live. But we have to draw a line, because, as important as homes are, it’s silly to internalize an aesthetic as defining your worth when much may be out of your control & likely change in a few years anyway. I’ve also learned the power of angles and lighting. I’ll never forget when we were living in the worlds *ugliest* tiny student housing that nevertheless had fantastic light—think hotel room light all the time—so I was able to create some great images and hide a lot of hideousness in light falloff and shadows. A fellow classmate during that time commented on one of my images, “Oh, I wish I had your house!!” 😂🤣 My kitchen is currently under renovation so we take a lot of images outside. Do what you have to do, but take the picture. Kitchens change but kids don’t keep. Here is our lovely 90s bath. It will not always be so… but Lydie will not always be four, either, and that is the far more critical point. 💛

Comparison the Thief of Joy

In and out, like a haltingly hesitant breath. That’s what my art and in some ways my personality has felt like lately. I step into what is me—I inhale it—it feeds me, the clarity comes… Eyes open, glance around, and…I compare. I don’t SOUND like her. I don’t LOOK like her. The colors are wrong. The perspective is too strong. Too loud. Too sharp. Not strong enough. Too lazy. Get some direction. What are we doing here??—I step out.

And then there’s the inner struggle. The comparisons not of me and other people, but me as is and me as ideal me—my art; my voice; my character; my… everything. ::Taylor Swift’s Anti-Hero plays in the background:: That’s a whole different conversation that’s always going on. It’s not what it’s supposed to be… what IS it supposed to be? A mother raising humans to find and believe in and become their best selves. A mother-woman-artist simultaneously raising herself.

Second guessing. I do a lot of second guessing. And I wish, at the very heart of me, to get back to the very heart of me—where I just feel and make and know. The poems used to come like that. The pictures too. Before I started to think too much.

Unhappy with my feed lately but working on it. A little hand on a canyon wall. A wall that is millions of years old, standing in the desert in a historic drought. But somehow here the water flows down—trace amounts, but enough. Enough for moss and ferns to thrive. Enough to carve a canyon wall of stone. The hand reaches, anchors itself to the wall, the moss, the earth, the story, and the water flows over us all.

Exhale.

#am_nationalparks #mangosdozion

On the Ride Home

Sleeping princess in the last rays of sunlight 🌅

Delightful Age

Eleven years I’ve been a mom, now. He should be getting that letter to Hogwarts any second. 🥰

Mischief

“Wait… what’s happening?!” 😂🤣 She played in that tub for 30 min while I got ready before turning the water on if you can believe it! I had just finished getting ready and grabbed my camera to catch a few shots of her when she turned the faucet handle and caught us both by surprise! I suppose my luck had to run out sometime 😂💦

Inner Child

Put me in nature and I regress to my twelve year old self. I get down and tickle the plants… giggle… skip… 😆 I was raised on Anne of Green Gables and My Side of the Mountain and spent half my childhood on the family ranch and the other half running wild in the field next to my house. At twelve I stumbled out from behind a tree in that neighborhood field into wide open suburbia with a full morning glory crown on my head only to be assaulted by a LOOK from one of my neighbors who clearly though I was much to old for such nonsense. 😳 I have always been THAT kid. 🤪🥰 I was ashamed of it for a bit, but good thing I never quite let that shame kill off my poetic heart. We were up the canyon the other day and I was telling my fam how I always have the urge to kidnap a bit of moss and keep it as a pet and of course they all gave me the side eye except for the one child that also has a dreamer’s heart. He was content to Ooo and Ahhh at all the leaves and exclaim over their brilliant colors and stroke the softness of the pines with me. In photography they tell you to capture hands which next to eyes are the most emotive physical feature and I didn’t have to think twice when I watched my boy reach out to pay homage to autumn’s brilliance with awe as gentle as a kiss.

Joining the Dance

Yesterday we went to a little fall festival at the boys’ school. Lyds was in her stroller per usual, but at one point surprised us by asking to get out, so we let her. Rather than being overwhelmed by the loud & chaotic environment, she wanted to join in & participate fully. We were next to a sound system that was blasting Ghostbusters 🎵 & she immediately started dancing, and when Lydie jumps in and DOES, we all follow 😆 so we had a family dance party right there next to the hot dog line, photo-op boards, and crowded bales of hay. 💃🏼🕺 Pre-Lydia, I was a fun mom, but I was not a “drop everything & dance like no one is watching” mom. I wish I could convey to you the sheer ridiculous joy of shaking it down with a grinning four year old backlit by the setting sun, surrounded by pumpkins and people stunned into smiling by the startling magic of an extra chromosome. It was a beautiful scene all around, but mostly her—just her—laughing and stomping away for the sheer wonder of being alive. Who can help but join in with that, whether anyone is watching or not? The scene was still with me as I prayed at the end of the day and as I closed my eyes to sleep. So much has changed since you came sweet girl. We are dancing now, Lydia. Hands in the air, hearts to the sky, we are fully dancing, now. 💛 #misslydiefaith #theluckyfew

Tree Poem

Only those who climb the aspens know… how utterly filthy one becomes when doing so 😅🍂

Happy Down Syndrome Awareness Month!

Happy October!! Not only is it one of the loveliest months of the year 🍁🍂 but it’s the month when we get to celebrate some of the loveliest people! Happy Down Syndrome Awareness Month! Here’s to chromosomes, differences, belonging, and opening our minds and hearts to what others can teach us. If you don’t already have a friend with Down Syndrome, this month I challenge you to make one. Really make one with a heart ready to listen, love, and learn. They will rock your world in the best ways imaginable. 😄✨💛💙

#downsyndromeawareness #theluckyfew #lovedoesntcountchromosomes #misslydiefaith

Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month

Going gold for September & Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month. 🎗This is a cause that is near and dear to our hearts!! We have so many dear friends whose lives have been forever changed by childhood cancer. We love them and recognize them & their families as the inspirational warriors they are!!
Pediatric cancer hits home in more ways than one. Children with Down Syndrome are at much higher risk for developing leukemia than the general population: They are 33 times more likely to develop ALL and 150 times more at risk for AML. In addition, about 10% of infants with Down Syndrome are born with a type of “pre-leukemia.” Lydia and many of her friends undergo regular blood screenings where we moms collectively hold our breaths and pray against the unimaginable.
My husband Dan currently serves as the director of cancer services at our children’s hospital. When the position opened, he and I both felt a strong pull towards this job, knowing that many members of OUR community pass through those angel-filled halls. We see you. We love you. We stand by you. We know it’s hell. You are so brave. You can do this—you are fighters. 🙏🏻💛💪🏻

Torchbearer

The night she was born was so dark. There was a blizzard, it was freezing, and visibility was low. Dan drove home from three job interviews and took our son to the instacare for an ear infection before taking me in labor to the hospital… I remember everything about that night in vivid detail. I remember the blinding lights of the delivery room illuminating my baby and our new reality… I remember the shocking silence of the doctor, nurses, and staff. Silence that smothered me; magnified all my fears. I remember the scary word: “oxygen,” and strangers taking her away to the NICU and leading me to my room alone. To “recover.” In the dark.
Mothers aren’t supposed to be without their babies—it was an agonizing severing and abandonment to the deepest, loneliest, most desperate and terrifying darkness. There was a stupid, scratchy green blanket on the bed that I wrestled with all night long. It refused to yield even the least bit of comfort no matter how many tears I poured into it. It went like this for hours: Darkness, tears, breaking, and pain. And then…
They say that when trauma hits a couple, each individual processes it in their own way and at their own speed. I can verify that as fact. And I thank God every day that, although we were both broken, Dan (perhaps because he wasn’t also swimming in birth hormones) was the first to find his feet. In the very early morning after mourning, he came to me, wrapped his arms around me, and with tears covering both of us, said these sacred words that changed my life and my perspective forever, “This is our family, now.”
My forever love, in those words & moment I heard him say: “I will not leave you. We will see this through.” That promise, hope, and dedication split the dark wide open and gave me the call to action I needed. 🔥 I still ached, but after that, I started showing up. And after that, the light began to win. Oh, how it won. ✨ #misslydiefaith #theluckyfew

Fairy Conversations

She turns everything into puppets. I quite like eavesdropping on conversations between flowers with my own fairy language interpreter who surely must know what they are saying, being made of flowers, innocence, and sunshine, herself. 🌻🧚‍♂️

Mountain Moment

Reaching. In color & bw because ✨moods✨ I wanted to write a nice artsy caption to go with this one but my brain is exhausted today so just the pics, folks.