kisses are a far better fate than wisdom…e.e.cummings

sigh…..are these photos not more proof that i have the most beautiful couples and live in the most perfect place on the planet!!! (more than one exclimation point was clearly needed). honestly, i have spent the last 21 days more on the road than i ever have spent home, and my only reprieve and distraction from missing my family is the fact that i get to visit stunning locations, and meet up with some amazing people. Liz and Chris are just such a couple…amazing AND beautiful AND in love (my favorite combo), and I met up with them in the Bar Harbor area to capture some engagement photos before their wedding day in September at the Samoset Resort (another beautiful location).

the ocean was so blue green it almost looked like we were in a tropical climate (please see weddings in January for proof that we surely are not).

dear Mikki…

it has been 2,921 days since the best day of my life. its easy to remember this particular day, as it conveniently falls on the day you were born. on this day, almost 3,000 days ago, it snowed. april is like that in Maine…daffodils dusted with the cold, white confetti. you arrived exactly when they said you would. . .not a day later, not a day earlier as if you, yourself had made the date a promise to keep. you hate to be late to this day….and it makes your 8:04am birth all the more prominent and true to your personality.

your first moments were sweet, wild whispers in my memory.

whirling, merry go round ride with snow cone….joy.

you didn’t cry,  as if you held the world and its soul of secrets and knew that it wasn’t necessary to make any more noise in the universe than there already was. even your first breaths were peaceful, and to this day, i am not sure where your quiet spirit comes from. (not from me) daddy and i looked at each other in amazement, happiness, hope, and a touch of fear….i think all parents must do this. a sudden realization my existence, once so selfish in nature, will be gladly handed over to care for and protect our new, little being.

8 years later. a blur of time so surreal i have to wonder if i really lived it at all.

you like Hannah Montana (eye roll), ice cream…sweets in general, computers, anything that has to do with school, are a social butterfly, highly competitive (especially with your sister), smiling, clothes and shoes and jewelry, helping anyone who needs it, you are polite (almost always), you still get car sick on rides over a half hour long, you just read a book more than 200 pages long and told me that you wished there were more pages to read, you love severely and without question…every single person, you aren’t so quiet anymore, you hit baseballs like your grandpa, you like princesses and happy endings, cry when things move you emotionally, and you dance like no one is watching.

you are the thing i am most proud of in my entire life. (and katie too…i am proud of her…in a different way)

Happy Birthday Baby!

love you my darling,

dear katie and mikki:

this isn’t really a confession…more of a statement…because a confession might mean that i’m not okay with it. but, i am.

i live in my head a lot. mostly actually. i don’t know if its from being an only child or maybe it is just a definitive part of who i am as a person. i over think, i obsess, i dream, i dream big. i dream ridiculous. when i buy a lotto ticket, i honest to goodness think i’m going to win. i wouldn’t say i am already writing the checks, but the money is on on its way to the bank, and i am preparing  a  B and H Photo and Video order of the century. i dream silly things like i have a  maid and what her name would be, and then, i dream up the excuses i would have to tell myself and to others in order to warrant the need for a maid for a 950 square foot house. i love food…i dream about elaborate meals with cheese and chocolate and pasta. sometimes, when the house is quiet and i am alone, i will let the phone ring and won’t check the caller id…i let myself imagine who it could be before picking up. i won’t check the caller id. sometimes it’s nice to be surprised, even if it is a person you know. i dream in photographs. mostly i dream in 1979 Polaroid, it’s cyan smoothness…except for the sun dust and light leaks. every photo is perfectly imperfect moments of our life together that haven’t happened yet. always Polaroid. heads accidentally cut off, off centered, Grammy Young (my grandmother was a dreadful photographer) style renderings. no photoshop…just an authentic day.

when i was training for my marathon in 2007, on those endless 15-18-20 mile runs, i would dream about becoming a successful photographer. that one dream distracted me for miles and miles.

i dreamed of you two. a lot. before i was even pregnant, after miscarriages… a heartbreak so bad that i never thought my dreams would survive.

they did.

and the misfortune of dreaming so big is some major disappointment. failure after trying to attain a dream. the still empty bank account and almost attainable lens wish list.  the days i have to eat salad or go without butter. the negative pregnancy tests. the phone calls where it is just a recording telling me my cell phone bill is late {again…sigh}, the dust on the bookcases that i won’t get around to until April {maybe}.

the payoff to big dreams? in all that time i live inside my head and think of these ridiculous, seemingly impossible life scenarios….. sometimes, after a little {or a lot} of hard work, or a little {or a lot} of luck, they actually happen. they for real happen. and for every single person who has told me that i shouldn’t dream so big for fear of life-shattering disappointment…it was that dreaming…that crazy stuff that happened in between reality and my inner ear…that really paid off.

don’t let anyone tell you that your dreams, even your biggest ones, don’t matter or won’t come true.

of course, i haven’t won the lottery yet. but money doesn’t matter as much as Polaroids.

all my love darlings,

p.s. daily mantra: imagination is more important than knowledge. (some smart guy that is probably crazier than your Mom)

dear mikki and katie…

today i picked you up, Katie, and we ran through the slushy mud-soaked snow of the grocery store parking lot. i held your body tight to my chest and felt the vibration of your cherubic giggle radiate through to my rib cage . you untied your arms from around my neck and threw them into the ice-bitten air, your fingers reaching to what seemed like the top ceiling to the sky. you never felt lighter to me. i have carried you in my arms since the day you were born, and it was as if the freedom you felt in that one, single moment made you weightless. you tossed your head back and closed your eyes and i watched your soul come up through and saturate your beautiful face. the soft curls of your hair flew all around wild and feral.

time winked, and we were inside the store. . . moment over.

there are so many peices of time that i am sure i miss because i am busy and rushing and not embracing being a mother and all of the gifts it has given me. all of the joy.

but

i

didn’t

miss

that

one.

i write these bits on my blog, and i don’t know if you will every read any of them… but if i had to pick any for you to read it would be this one post. because i could write 1,000 lessons…a million and it wouldn’t matter. in the end, it is really you two who actually teach me, who fulfill me….the most.

thank you.

all my love darlings,

p.s: daily mantra: this moment contains all moments…c.s.lewis

dear Mikki and Katie…

as a mother, i have frequent, unrealistic, idealistic fantasies about your first dates, proms, weddings, and most importantly, grandchildren (lots). i realize this, and that either makes it more okay, or less okay depending on how you look at it.

despite my visions of  ‘the perfect’ love for you both, despite the fact that I KNOW, as your mother, that you are both flawless in every, single, way…i know you will be….

dumped.

(and while yes, i will track the guy/girl down, attack him/her verbally, and then proceed to diagnosis him/her with an acute attachment disorder, and send her/him emotionally, perhaps physically, damaged, on his/her way, it will…tragically…happen)

why? i don’t know why it HAS to be that way. but it does. and it will happen. and it is a universal human sadness. yet, in that desperate, emotive, practically suicidal, moment…it connects us all together and we become ‘one’ Kumbaya style . (that doesn’t make it better, by the way…it just makes you feel less alone…you won’t listen to this now, but i truly suggest that you embrace it fully).

it boils down to this one, awful thing….it hurts so deeply that you find that breathing your next breath will simply destroy you.

good news, though.

it won’t.

after days of burying your head in your pillow and crying until you need to drink a Poland Springs because you are too dehydrated to cry anymore, you will…in fact….recover. yes, damaged. yes, scarred. yes, you will wear your favorite sweat pants for days on end without washing them, and not shave for a ridiculous length of time.

but….alas….after all of that unkempt, crying, hairiness…you will emerge to love again. (no, really…you will) you don’t believe me, but you will. time doesn’t heal all wounds, but it does soften them, and make you all that more ready to handle the next big love of your life.

all my love darlings,

p.s. anyone, and i do mean any, single, person, who dumps either of you, is the most stupid person in the whole world because you are both so amazing i can hardly believe it….i can barely grasp the fact that you exist on this planet.

p.p.s: daily mantra: “when that happens, when that happens….get yourself some ribs, and some ice cream because you have been dumped.” (movie.quote).

ice cream helps just about everything.