Why I Do What I Do

The day started out early. I awakened startled at 5am suddenly realizing that I had a photo shoot this morning that I had forgotten to set my alarm for. I rolled over, set the alarm for 7 and drifted back to sleep.

Truth be told, I was not very excited for this day. Among other things, I had a last-minute photo shoot this morning that was scheduled only a few days ago. A large family portrait session. Large family portraits are hard for me. I feel limited with my creativity and energy when I have so many people to arrange and photograph. I like small families and couples because of the variety of ways you can photograph them without it being to posed, too stiff. With large families, you don’t have much of a choice, there must be posing.

This family made me especially nervous. Seventeen people. Grandparents, Kids, Grandkids. I haven’t done a family portrait session with so many people in a long time. Plus I worried that they might have certain expectations. I did a great family portrait session for one of the individual families from this group and I was worried that they would expect the same variety and creativity with their whole extended family as well. This is not really possible.

Confession: I am always nervous before photo shoots. It doesn’t matter how much experience I gain. I worry. I stress about the client’s expectations, my own expectations of myself, the lighting, the location, my ability to be funny and charming while still being professional. I worry about my equipment, the subject’s personalities, and whether or not I will get shots that I am thrilled with.

I fell out of bed at 7, these worries swirling around my brain as I brushed my teeth and loaded up my extra memory cards. I said a little prayer in the car, as I usually do, that God would help me use my eyes and my heart to deliver great photos for this family. I prayed for energy, courage, and creativity.

We spent only an hour and a half shooting. The park was wonderfully shady and the family was utterly charming. I made silly remarks, they laughed. The kids smiled obligingly. The parents rolled with the punches. We finished out the shoot with large lollipops and happy faces.

As Grandpa Bob walked me to my car and slipped me a check his eyes filled with tears. He thanked me quietly for making time for this shoot so last minute. His eyes were wet as he told me how long it has been since they were able to have the whole family together for photos, and how much it means to him that I got so many good photos today.  He hugged me warmly and said goodbye.

I got in my car, the warmth of this thank you still in my ears.

There are many moments when I forget why I do this. There are many times when I am frustrated with my feelings of inadequacy, when I struggle with time management, when I feel like I will never be the photographer I want so badly to be. I didn’t seek out this profession, it found me.

For some reason, this is what I am meant to do. I feel such a drive to improve and grow in this field. I struggle to find time to do it. I sacrifice and practice and work at it. I love it. I think the Lord made me love it so that when people like Grandpa Bob come into my life just wanting to capture their family for that moment, I will be ready. I love that so many people will remember their family, their wedding, their adorable newborn baby through my photographs. They will remember those moments through my eyes and skill as a photographer. Because I take photos, the people in my life will have priceless photos. I feel lucky and so in awe that I am blessed with this particular talent.

Thanks Grandpa Bob for reminding me why I do what I do.

Good morning!

Slice of Life: Hygiene is Important

Lately I have not really been in the mood to blog, mostly because I’m cranky and I don’t want to come off that way. It’s no fun to read blog posts full of complaints and whining. But I do miss sharing what is going on with us. So true to form I will occasionally be posting photos without a whole lot of explanation. I will call them “Slice of Life” because hopefully you will get a glimpse of our life these days through the photos even with my lack of wording.

Contrary to this photo, Reese does not properly brush her teeth by herself nor is she potty trained completely. Doesn’t she look so grown up though?

Sometimes I Still…

Sometimes I still sneak into your room at night and watch you sleep. I watch the rise and fall of your small chest and allow my frazzled nerves to slowly relax. I watch the way your dark eyelashes brush your cheek and the way your small mouth hangs open just a bit as you sleep so deeply. I tuck your blanket up to your chin and allow myself to gently stroke your hair with one hand.  All I want to do is pick you up and hold you tight. It’s been hours since you went to bed and I miss my little girl’s smiles and giggles. For now though, I will let you sleep. I will dream up fun things for us to do in the morning, ways that I can induce your grins and bring curiosity to your eyes. I will go to bed worrying if I’m being the best mommy I can be, and how I can do better.

But in this moment, my cares melt away and I feel content, because you are still my little girl.

Blocks and Beans

Recently at Reese’s 2 year check up they had me fill out a questionnaire about Reese’s development. It asked questions like “Does your child jump up and down with both feet leaving the ground?” and “Does your child respond to simple commands?”.

One of the questions was “Does your child stack blocks one on top of another?”. I thought to myself, “I have no idea!”. I have never seen Reese play with blocks except to “keen-up”(clean-up) legos at Grandma Mac’s house. She doesn’t even have any blocks, not that I think she would be very interested in playing with them if she did. I felt like a horrible mom for not knowing if my child was capable of stacking blocks.

Today Reese showed me in her own way that even though she doesn’t own any blocks, she knows what she’s doing in the stacking department. Kudos to my babe for using her imagination and working with what she’s got!

How I’m Dealing With Pregnancy:

Bittersweet

After a month of searching, we may have found a new place to live. I sound so enthusiastic right? My hormones are in overdrive at the moment, so bear with me here…

My biggest requirement in this move was that we stay within our same ward boundaries. I was willing to move into a place that was slightly smaller, not as nice, hopefully cheaper but we were willing to spend more, and maybe not as close to Mark’s family and work as we are now, but I was fully committed to not moving into a different ward. It has taken me almost 4 years of being in our ward to really feel like I have friends now. I love our ward.

Then I started the torture of trying to find a three-bedroom house or duplex, in our ward boundries, in our price range, that allows pets. Nothing. In the month I looked I found one. TOTAL. It was across the street from us, and it was more than we were willing to pay so we passed. We wish we had taken it now…

The more I searched the more I realized that I may not have the luxury of being picky on this particular point. There may be reasons why we can’t find something in our ward boundries. Maybe we are supposed to move on to another ward. I am having a really hard time accepting that.

This week we finally found a great place, perfect in every respect except location. It’s only about a mile away from where we currently live, but of course, in a completely different ward. We turned in an application and today the owner let us know that we have been selected if we still want it.

It’s bittersweet really. I cant even feel happy about it yet. I’m still heartbroken about moving out of this house. Every other time we have ever moved, it was because we were moving on to something bigger and better, and that’s always exciting. There is a part of me that secretly enjoys moving because I like the newness of starting out somewhere fresh. I like deciding where things will go. I like the cleanliness of a new place. I like starting fresh. It’s kind of fun. While packing and cleaning the old place and actually moving stinks, the process of starting over is kind of refreshing.

This time I do not feel anything but sadness about moving. The new place is bigger, and will probably be nicer after all the renovations the owner is doing to it this month before we move in. However, I didn’t need a bigger place. I was perfectly happy with this one. I didn’t need a nicer place. This one just feels like it’s our home. I can’t imagine the new one ever feeling like this.

Most of all, I’m heartbroken about leaving our ward. I keep reminding myself that so many things won’t have to change. I can still attend our ward’s park day. I can still go to my Bunko night on the first Wednesday of the month. I can still go to the gym with Jen during the week.  I can still keep up with these women whose friendships have become so important to me. It’s not like we do that much socilaizing on Sunday anyways. But my fear is that I will be forgotten and left behind when I move a mile down the road.

I don’t know how to feel. Relieved that we can stop looking? Panicked that I have to start preparing to move? Sad about what I will leave behind? Excited for the prospect of new friends and experiences?

A part of me just wants to hide under the covers and believe that this will all go away. That it was all some bad dream and that we don’t actually have to go anywhere. A part of me wants to pretend like this isn’t happening.