freelensing | august

some days it seems like we are walking on eggshells.  you feel so much so deeply.  the big feelings make your heart heavy.  overwhelmed.  you retreat.  say you want to be alone.  claim you don’t need anyone.  but the truth is you do.  we see it even when you can not.  we are your family.  we will always try to love away your heartaches.  help you lighten when your load becomes too heavy for you to carry.

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And now please visit my friend Annie Otzen to see the beautiful freelensing she has captured this month.

a normal day

On October 18th, my daughter was born and I became the mother of three children. Hundreds of miles away, on the same day, another baby girl was born and another woman added the third child to her family. We were complete strangers at that time, but our love of photography and family brought us together. We started to have a conversation about motherhood with images, because we tell stories with our cameras. Since some tales are so similar, and some are not, we decided to collaborate and share a photo a week from a normal day as a mother to three.

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”         – Mary Jean Irion

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you patiently wait.  you wait for me, you wait for them.  in a matter of days, the big kids will be back in school.  and for a couple of hours a few mornings a week, we can pretend.  pretend like it is just you and me.  there will be no one else to tend to.  the wait is almost over my sweet, sweet baby girl.

photo by Heather Robinson

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In the mail today was your letter for kindergarten. You have always been this duel person. So little and yet so big. So mature and then so young and wild. I went into this summer thinking we’d spend so much quality time together. Maybe you’d mellow a bit. Swing more into the mature. Instead, you have been moodier than ever. Raging and hard to reach. I’ve been finding myself eagerly awaiting the start of school. But, when I read you the letter, you fell into me and cried, you are scared to start school. And all those many feelings I’ve been having, as a parent to you, my heart broke. You are still so little and I have to stop holding you up against those ideas that you should be anyone but yourself.

photo by Olivia Gatti of Click Click Love

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a normal day

On October 18th, my daughter was born and I became the mother of three children. Hundreds of miles away, on the same day, another baby girl was born and another woman added the third child to her family. We were complete strangers at that time, but our love of photography and family brought us together. We started to have a conversation about motherhood with images, because we tell stories with our cameras. Since some tales are so similar, and some are not, we decided to collaborate and share a photo a week from a normal day as a mother to three.

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”         – Mary Jean Irion

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i hadn’t begun documenting the everyday bits of our life back when you were this little.  my passion for photography had begun but i was still in the early stages taking photo after photo of you as up close as i could get.  they were all head shots really.  it was all about the eyes.  no story there.  i wish i had stepped back and saw things differently then because i remember very little of that time.  as your baby sister sat there pulling book after book from the shelf i had a déjà vu type of moment realizing that you used to sit in that exact same place doing that exact same thing.  and i had already forgotten it.

photo by Heather Robinson

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I need to remember this. The moment I watched you both watch the sun set over the Adirondacks. That moment you see the earth and sun move, and so suddenly, so quickly the sun drops and then disappears. Every night of vacation we grown-ups watched the sun set, but this night we held you on the dock, we begged you both, to just stay and watch. And you both did. It was amazing.

photo by Olivia Gatti of Click Click Love

website | Facebook

a normal day

On October 18th, my daughter was born and I became the mother of three children. Hundreds of miles away, on the same day, another baby girl was born and another woman added the third child to her family. We were complete strangers at that time, but our love of photography and family brought us together. We started to have a conversation about motherhood with images, because we tell stories with our cameras. Since some tales are so similar, and some are not, we decided to collaborate and share a photo a week from a normal day as a mother to three.

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”         – Mary Jean Irion

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you have always been the most affectionate with me.  i wore you on my chest for almost every nap during your first year and then you always fell asleep rocking in my arms until a few months ago.  you still love to snuggle every chance you get.   i have always known how much you love me because you have shown me.  yet, there is nothing like hearing it.  this summer you have begun to spontaneously confess your love for me.  each time i hear your sweet little voice speak those words, it is as if nothing else matters except you and me in that moment together.

photo by Heather Robinson

blog | Facebook

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Before there were kids, before most of us were married even, these people were my family. We spent so much time together back then. Free and young, careers only just starting. We played often and hard. I hold it all in my heart so fondly.
Now, we don’t get to see everyone as much. Life can do that to you. But goodness, am I ever thankful that somewhere in our busy days, we carve out time to meet up again, to all be together, even just for a few days. It can be enough to carry me through until the next time.

photo by Olivia Gatti of Click Click Love

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