I've been a very good girl lately. Notice I haven't uploaded any new pictures of my family over the last few weeks? (The one of William in the post below was shot a month ago.) Last Saturday, we even took the boys to The Crayola Factory to celebrate Andrew's good first report card scores. In an act of extraordinary self-control, I left my camera at home and denied myself a myriad of photographic possibilities (oh, the colors there!)
But that doesn't mean I haven't been getting my shutterbux fix elsewhere. I've had a couple of local families express an interest in serving as my new models while I try to learn my way around my camera. Below are pictures taken of one of those families, the Cs.
I couldn't have asked for a better family with whom to work. The Cs were a gracious and very photogenic bunch. Don't hate their mom, Daisy, who should be a hair model. N., their son, was born to live in front of a camera. I've never met a kid like him who could stand so patiently and smile so winningly on cue time and time again. E., their eldest daughter, was similarly forebearing and lovely, despite being chilled to the bone. Even K., their 2 year-old, managed to turn on the charm once she got over being wakened from her nap (you did better than I would've under those circumstances, sweetie).
Thanks, C. Family, for being such wonderful guinea people.
Don't you worry: I haven't forgotten about spending time alone with Andrew. While Senor Didi napped last Sunday, my only-born and I attended a Revolutionary War re-enactment at a local 18th century homestead. For the second year in a row, we arrived too late for the mock skirmish. Poor combat-enamored Andrew. Next year, his mother will get her act together and figure out the schedule in advance.
In an attempt to redeem the afternoon, we wandered around the property, toured the inside of the mansion, and quizzed different soldiers about their weaponry. Andrew was especially impressed by the recreated bayonets and the authentic cannon (so much smaller in real life!).
The grounds themselves were teeming with photograhic possibilities. Unfortunately, Andrew was not feeling like being the top model he normally is. I couldn't scoot around quickly enough to get wider angles on many of my shots before he abandoned position to wander elsewhere. Seldom was I fortunate to harness the winning combination of ideal lighting, an expression from my subject that didn't qualify as a grimace or the back of his head, and a suitable background. Good children's photography, I'm finding, is not only the ability to achieve those conditions simultaneously, but to scurry about and work the camera's meter at lightning speed. Looking back at what I shot, I still have a ways to go.
Imperfect pictures aside, the afternoon's experience prompted me to think more about something I've been considering. When going on outings with the kids, I often engage in a minor war with myself: should I or should I not bring my camera? On the one hand, I want to capture any special moments for posterity. I want my kids to be able to look at the pictures and remember the day. After all, before they know it, they will become like me: a 35 year-old amnesiac.
Just as compelling a reason to lug along my camera is the world around me. Ever since I spent a summer learning how to make Super 8 movies when I was 16, I see pictures everywhere I turn. They call out to me in the leading lines of a city street, in the subtle tilt of a child's head, in the vibrant hues of the autumn leaves. So much beauty still remains in God's fallen creation. I may not be able to translate that beauty into pictures that do its Creator justice, but my limitations don't stop the world around me from screaming out to be photographed.
On the other hand, I recognize that I can go sometimes overboard in taking pictures. It's a fault of mine. I'm capable of dousing the fun on an outing because I'm constantly asking the kids to stop and smile and bear with me while I wrestle with my camera settings. All they want to do is explore and have a good time.
I, too, can lose out. While hidden behind my lens, I might have just missed out on the magic of the moment. I've surrendered the full opportunity to enjoy the kids enjoying themselves. And isn't that what makes family outings pleasurable for the parent at the end of the day?
I recognize that some action is in order. So as to annoy my family just a teensy bit less, I'm going to force myself to leave my camera at home every once in a while. I'll go through shutterbug withdrawal, no doubt, but I've got to keep first things first. This means that I'll need some new subjects on whom to practice. If anyone is local and wants to be my new picture-taking guinea pigs, let me know. After all, it's almost time to start sending out those Christmas cards. Wouldn't you like to have a picture of your family in which you are not trying to work the self-timer, dash into the frame, and tell the kids to stop picking their noses and smile? Yours truly has camera, costs nothing, and will travel. I can't promise you Annie Leibovitz-quality work, but I'll do the best I can. So, if you're interested, let's work something out. Just have your people call mine.
Continuing on in our pursuit of one-on-one time, I took William to Sesame Place last weekend for Cookie Monster's birthday party. As soon as he entered the dining room and saw Zoe, one of the Sesame Street characters, he broke away from me, cut in front of the children waiting for a turn to meet her, and hurled himself at her.
In the end, the success of the event boiled down to a simple equation:
Colorful, furry characters
+ a buffet full of junk food and nary a piece of fruit or a vegetable in sight
Back in the long, lost days when Andrew was an only child, we had time on our side and still more time to spare. We spent as long as we wanted combing through books in the library. At the park, Andrew had free reign over what he chose to climb, where he wanted to run (within safe bounds, of course), and how long he wanted to swing (he once set a personal record for swinging for an hour). We went to children's museums, concerts, indoor playgrounds, and countless family-friendly events.
Alas for poor second child William. He seldom has the opportunity to enjoy these things to their fullest extent. It's not his fault: the excitement of going to kid-friendly places is lost on his mom, who has been there, done that already. While older brother is in school, she crams in errands, appointments, and other commitments. When he does go to the park, she has one eye on her watch because in fifteen minutes, he has to be home for an early lunch and an early nap so that they can pick up Andrew from school. On outings, Didi often remains on lockdown in his stroller because his mom can't multiply herself to chase after two kids headed in separate directions.
Earlier this week, I decided to put an end to the inequity. While Andrew was in school, I took William to the local zoo. You'd never know it from the first and last pictures in the set below, but for much of the time, I let him roam where he wanted. Oh, joy! What freedom! He could gaze as long as he wanted at the nasty-looking boa constrictor, run alongside the buffalo cage and trip on the pavement, romp full force at the playground until Mommy dragged him away for throwing pebbles too close to another child. He had fun doing what he wanted to do for a change. And Mommy? She got a workout playing sherpa on the run, chasing after him with his stroller laden with assorted toddler gear.
Obviously, there are times and places when and where letting an active and curious 2 year-old roam free range is neither wise nor practical. However, on that day it had its merits. While I had the delicious and uninterrupted privilege of savoring William's enjoyment, son #2 had the chance to feel like #1 for the morning.
The streets were ours for the taking last Halloween night. Between the light rain and World Series Game #3 in which the hometown Phillies were vetted against my birthtown Yankees, turnout for trick or treating was low. Candy by the fistfuls was ours for the asking.
In true 6 year-old form, Andrew decided that he wanted to be a Star Wars character. Since we have a rule in our family that Halloween costumes must depict redemptive characters, his choices were limited to "good guys" only. He picked an Obi-Wan Kenobe costume, complete with a creepy middle-aged man mask. Following his cue, I dressed William as Yoda (blissfully, he's still too young to voice an opinion on what he wants to be). The Star Wars theme gave me a good excuse to indulge a dream and dress up as Queen Amidala, funky makeup, ram horn hair, and all. And Craig? Craig deserves the MVP award for shedding his conservative, tucked-in ways and getting his inner Jedi on.
Since our neighborhood is unconducive to trick-or-treating, we traveled to a nearby town in search of candy. We teamed up Craig's little sister, Kaity (she's rocking the Little Goth Riding Hood outfit in the pictures below), and his brother, Kevin, dressed up as... Uncle Kevin.
Twenty years from now, William may not remember that I sacrificed my dress to wipe his runny nose. Andrew has no idea that Craig wiped down the walls from his projectile poops at 3 a.m., though we have pictures to prove it. The passage of time will cause many of the things we did out of love to be forgotten. Still, I'm betting they'll remember their mom's giant Halloween mask that kept blowing in her face all night long. They'll recall that their dad wore a rat tail braided out of twine and didn't once protest. These are the things of which happy childhoods memories are made.
Finally, in case anyone asks whom I'm cheering for in the World Series, let's just say I was uncertain until I watched my first game earlier this week. Seeing the two teams matched against one another, there was no question of where my allegiances lay. Truth be told, I'm not a sports aficionado. I'm also not a fool. In a town known for its rabid, ahem, passionate sports fans, I value my life enough not to write my choice aloud. I'll just leave you with a truism: the good guys always win.
What is it about pumpkins that make them so appealing to young children? I imagine God considering the matter before he set about creating the world. His thought process might have been something along the lines of, "What's the most outrageous-looking vegetable I can make? It has to be something that would make toddlers squeal with delight, something they just can't resist slapping at and trying to lift in vain. The bigger, the better. Just for fun, I'll make it in a really loud color."
Et voila! On the third day, God made pumpkins.
Our local grocery store had a buy-one, get-one-free deal, so I heaved two into our shopping cart. The boys and I got to work on them earlier this week.
On the back of one pumpkin, I carved a traditional triangle face. On the other, I carved a cat.
When it came to designing the fronts, I set my sights on something different, something a little closer to home and closer to my heart.
In case you haven't figured it out, I'll give you a clue:
As William continues to grow and become more verbally expressive, he has learned how to tell us about the things he likes. It's a welcome change from the "NO!"s that seemed to dominate his speech just months ago.
Out of the blue, while eating dinner, driving to Andrew's school, or going for a walk, he will share with us the things that have won over his little heart. His sentences usually begin with "I like it" and end with the following:
... muffin ... dan gao (cake) ... carwash ... qiao ke li (chocolate) ... Pirate's Booty ... butterfly bing gan (cookie) ... "Fire Burning" (a popular dance song by Sean Kingston) ... Sesame Place (oh, really?) ... t.v. ... bing (ice cream) ... qiao ke li ... peanut butter ... elevator ... cupcake ... qiao ke li ... qiao ke lide dan gao ... candy [pause]... in a bucket (that's my boy!)
Whuh-what? Who's that at the door? Oh, that must be CPS, who has read this post and is coming to question me about William's self-professed sugar-laden diet. Right behind them are the photo police, here to scold me for not getting a wider angle on the picture above. Note William's lopped-off head and truncated hands. Quick! Hit "Delete Post!" There's nothing to see here, people, nothing to see. Move on.
Halfway around the world in India, my friend, Tisra, and her husband, Eric, have been joined with their beautiful daughter, Dorothy. Like most newly-minted adoptive parents, their time and energy are consumed by the child who has just entered their lives. Fortunately, they've brought along their friend and professional photographer, Jess, to chronicle their journey so that the rest of us can get a sneak peek into their life-changing last three days. Jess has done a gorgeous job of capturing the emotional smorgasbord - the anticipation, the exhaustion, the fear, and the joy - that is international adoption.
Warm up your facial muscles in advance; you'll be smiling a lot.
