daily mantra: “one day your life will flash before your eyes; make sure it’s worth watching” {unknown}

Despite the chilly Maine wind and a bit of snowy confection on the ground, I had an amazing family session yesterday.  These two brothers were simply darling, and after a month of bridal meetings and 2010 scheduling, it was nice to pick up my camera to capture these happy little boys. Pure sweetness!

dear Mikki and Katie…

this year i am thankful for: having our own yard, even though i have to mow it; i am thankful for the fact that you both like broccoli, and for broccoli itself; i am thankful for Dunkin Donuts coffee, as it has become a near necessity in my daily routine and i do swear that it does make me a better mother; i am thankful for Noggin; i am thankful that Daddy just ‘gets’ me, and doesn’t ask me to change, just to “calm down a bit”; i am thankful for interstate 95, and although i curse it, it does get me home faster to you girls; i am thankful for my mother…my sanity; i am thankful for you, Katie…thankful for your Katiness (now a word in the dictionary i am sure), even though you test my limits daily; i am thankful for the night your daddy and i turned off the tv, took our chairs and our blankets outside, and watched the beautiful night sky…i guess what i am really thankful for is that we still make time for each other; i am thankful for elephant sized tears easily kissed away by no one other than me; i am thankful for you, Mikki, and how soft and gentle and loving you are…i am pretty sure you are the next Mother Teresa; i am thankful for mega sales at the Gap, and finding a recipe that i love….and that you all love too; i am thankful for pretty dresses; i am thankful for my camera and my computer and my fluffy kitty that keeps me company when i sit at it late at night; i am thankful for the stones i have left unturned….i wasn’t ready to turn them and i am glad i didn’t; i am thankful for the color of your eyes…both blue but both different; i am thankful for playing in the sandbox, and even the grains that get brought into the house on the bottoms of our feet and shoes; i am thankful for people who know how to sing, and that those who can’t still sing anyway; i am thankful for the man in the produce section at Hannford who always tells me the ripeness of the fruits because i can never remember; i am thankful for my brides this year, and those next year…they are so amazing; i am thankful for the movie Goonies; i am thankful that some days pass slowly, and some fast; i am thankful for good books, with good words, and great magazines i can enjoy when i don’t have the time for a book; i am thankful for inspirations and even failures of inspirations; i am thankful for red lips and lip gloss, and our little house; i am thankful for my blackberry; i am thankful for the liquefy tool in photoshop when i take pictures of myself  {not a joke}; i am thankful for dress up clothes and make believe and the monster under my bed; and speaking of my bed, i am SO thankful for my bed {so, so thankful}…..i am thankful for beautiful photos….

i am thankful for you. you, YOU reading this. i am thankful that you are reading this and that you know  what i am the most thankful for are my two little girls.

all my love darlings,

mommy

P.S. OOOOHHHH, and i am thankful for this adorable song….its wonderful that someone has finally written my theme song….

P.P.S. daily mantra: “its not having what you want, it’s wanting what you’ve got” {sheryl.crow}

i have debated posting about this for a few months. and i wonder now if i will regret this entry… be in the middle of doing the dishes tonight and have a sudden charge of heart, blow back to my computer in a frenzy, and delete it. maybe. more often than not, this blog is about my kids and my life, and this one event is a part of it, for good or for bad.

i am just going to come out and say it now….

about 2 weeks before i shot my first wedding of the season, i had a miscarriage. and as many of you know this isn’t my first. this is my second. and perhaps the reason i didn’t write about it openly this time was because i didn’t want to expose myself that way right before my first full season as a wedding photographer. and perhaps the reason i didn’t write about it is because, honestly, i just still don’t know how i feel about it.  sad, yes. . angry, yes. but also…something different, and perhaps something wrong. i felt, and continue to be completely….numb.

i can still feel the crisp paper of the doctors examination table, and the draft in the back of the paper johnny. Katie was with me sitting in the chair adult like, but still with a diaper showing through her leggings. she was skimming a picture book like it was a People magazine and humming a tune of her own creation. this was my third trip in to the office in 3 weeks for an ultrasound, my 7th total. they tell you, as long as the numbers rise, you’re fine. you find yourself relying on those hCG numbers like they are stock numbers in a volatile market. they tell you as long as you are sick, you are fine…as long as your breasts are still sore and full, you are fine. but, even that day as i sat there trying to tell those things to myself while i waited for the doctor to get done with her 36th weeker, i knew that wasn’t always the case. i knew because i had had been through this before.

“mrs. burse.” her voice whipped into the office as she closed the door. this was a new office to me. all women doctors or midwifes. all amazing in their experience. i liked it. they a fish tank in their waiting room and a fountain in the lobby, and no receptionist. just nurses and doctors and fish. she sat down on her swivel stool and instantly spun over to Katie child-like and tickled her on the belly. she touched my knee. this was my signal that it was time. i knew because i had been through this before.

she placed the probe on my belly. she looked hard. she pressed and tilted and drove her fingers through my rib cage and pubic bone. no beats. no movement. nothing. she reached out to help me up. the doctor didn’t have tell me, but still, i think this made it more difficult for her in the end. Katie was still thumbing the pages of her book. Mikki had been with me the time i found out with the last miscarriage and this was so eerily like that.

the whole time the doctor was going over the “what to do next” instructions i couldn’t help but concentrate on Katie licking tip of her finger to go the next, crunchy page. i worried about her getting a paper cut. the pages of the Little Red Hen sounded harsh and raw.

“mrs.burse?” the doctor brought me back in. i had heard every word even though i wasn’t listening. i am a mother of two, after all. “D & C. i will have a D & C.” she was waiting for me to cry but i didn’t. i slipped on my jeans. they barely fit. as i sat down in the plastic chair i let out a huge sigh. Katie had turned her attention from the book to the inner workings of my purse. the doctor was prompting me to sign, so i did. when she stepped out of the office for a photocopy i called Mike. it was then that i cried, and when the doctor saw the tears on my face as she re-entered the room she seemed relieved to see them. tears mean that i got it and i did.

yup. i did.

that was the end of may for me and since then i have moved through the days like nothing happened. i didn’t miss a session. i haven’t worn my heart on my sleeve. and when people ask if my husband and i intend on more little ones, i just say the truth. i don’t know. because i don’t. the fear would be overwhelming. i am not sure if i am up for that. i don’t know if i could put my husband, my girls, or myself through that again.

i had planned the tattoos for 3 months, paid the deposit, and waited. 2 weeks ago, i walked into the tattoo studio in downtown Portland with my husband, and as i sat down in the chair i realized that i still wasn’t sad. i waited for the emotion to flood me like a too small boat among too large waves. it didn’t. he did the heart first, the symbol for twins…for both sets that i have lost. the dragonfly lotus stands for rebirth, new light, and joy. and the only thing i felt that day was freedom. i realized that the depression i suffered almost 4 years ago with the first loss was enough, and although i was sad about this second loss, i had been prepared by life experience for it. i had been blessed with a busy, successful summer so i wouldn’t dwell too long in my over thinking, and the happy giggles of the girls playing outside in our own backyard in the early morning wetness of the grass had kept me from going to a place too deep inside myself. and for all of that, i am so, so thankful.

daily mantra: “dreams are illustrations from the book your soul is writing about you.” {marsha.norman}

dear Mikki and Katie…

it was the first holiday season after my parents divorce. your Mema and i had just moved into a new apartment on upper main street in Thomaston…one much warmer than our drafty apartment on the Keag that we had only survived in the winter before by shutting off all but two rooms and sitting close to a kerosine heater at night to keep our teeth from chattering. the apartment was big, at least it seemed big when i was six years old,  but what i remember being special about it was our claw foot tub that allowed for deep sea diving adventures or mermaid expeditions aplenty. Mema would fill it up for me…so full that the water slopped over the sides and onto the uneven wood floor below. i thought it sounded like waves on the rocks, but Mema was never really impressed with my imagination that way.

but, what i recall more than anything about that apartment was the first Christmas we spent there together.  it had been a hard year full of difficult changes for us both, and the holidays only amplified the sounds of family separation. our Christmas tree stood naked in the living room. it was bare, but it was up. Mema stood  back to inspect, and then slapped a box of Legs pantyhose plastic eggs she must have been collecting for months onto the the table. {can you believe that pantyhose used to come in plastic eggs…too cool, right!?} she started cutting fabric and tying bows, and curling ringlets of ribbon, and meticulously gluing, and when she was done they were spontaneously stunning Christmas ornaments. i sat down and threaded popcorn and cranberries on a string beside her in awe of the creation out of practically nothing.  joyful music rattled out of our old radio and she hummed along as she worked. {we didn’t have a tv} our tree was beautiful that year. perfect even.

about 3 years ago when Mema was up for a visit, she handed me a box. {you know how she is always trying to get rid of stuff in her house by bringing it to ours, so i can eventually dump it off on you two}

“i just have to get rid of these.”  she said, disgusted.

“of what?” i said with a whine thinking it would be yet another box of my old toys that would just sit in the basement until our next move, that would then sit in that basement until the next move, etc. i opened the box to find what remained of our Legs pantyhose ornaments, the ribbon and fabric still crisp and unfaded despite over 20 years of storage. my heart hiccuped.

“oh i love these….why do you want to get rid of them??” i asked still looking at the handmade tender morsels of memories.

“because they are awful. don’t you remember why we did them?” i shook my head to her question. “we couldn’t afford ornaments that year so we had to make these things.” she said this as if i should have known and would instantly remember as soon as the words spilled out of her mouth. i didn’t remember that part at all. i thought we had made them for fun.

“oh…..i didn’t know.” i glowed as i accepted the box and tucked them carefully away in the upstairs closet where they still have a shelf all their own.

girls, i don’t remember a single gift i got that year. not one. that one moment…that very tiny piece of time, was an exquisite every day moment that turned into the most beautiful memory for me. grand events, grand moments {like Christmas itself, or the presents you get, or a wedding day, or anything on super scale} are good and nice. but it’s the seemingly insignificant,  minuscule slices of life that create the real magic.

like the way you both get up so early in the morning {4:45am today} so happy and cheerful; like the way your lashes flicker when you dream, like the way you dance silly in the living room some nights before bed…..

all my love darlings,

mommy

p.s. daily mantra: nothing really fails….{unknown}

daily mantra: “the only way to prove you that you have lost your inner child is if you don’t laugh when you hear the word “poop”. { someone named Amanda that is NOT me…I swear}

sooo……

not holding back. i suck at two things related to motherhood in general (that i will readily admit to, that is). first, i am an awful mother when flu season comes around. (the throwing up, can’t make it to the bathroom flu…and even though i know there is a genuine amount of shame in this confession, i will tell you that if i even get a  flu rumor via Facebook, i am keeping the girls home from school).

the other thing is…..potty training. first…i love diapers. am i the only one who LOVES them?! i really like the aroma of a freshly changed, or a freshly opened package of Pampers diapers. i like the way that diapers personify me as a mother in the shopping isle like nothing else does (other than bags under my eyes). i like the Velcro sound they make coming on and off and how good it feels to wipe and diaper and powder a baby bottom. that is right…a BABY bottom. but, buying Pampers size 5 diapers feels like buying too much candy when you are above the age when ‘too much candy’ is forgiven.  guilt. i was able to overcome this guilt when i was running off to shoot a wedding every weekend this summer, but now the potty training drill sargent (i.e. my darling husband Michael) has turned up the heat.

something as silly as diapers is bittersweet, huh?  Katie is fine with it, of course. only one mistake since Sunday, which means she was probably ready for this months ago.  it is me with the psychological wish wash (official term). i called my mom today and when she asked if anything was new i told her about the potty and she cheered on the other end of the line…but stopped, because she got it. (she always does)

the good news, no more diapers. the bad news…no more diapers.