Snow and Tell

I just finished a weekend in which I worked over 12 hours. I finished the deliverable on which I was churning, and decided to take the evening "off". I read about 45 posts about snow. To make myself feel better about my lost weekend, I thought I would mention that tomorrow is forecast to be 45 F and sunny.

In other news, I just found the app Instagram last week. Why did I not know about this before? I am totally obsessed. If you have an iphone you should be too. In fact, go download it now (it's free) and then tell me so I can follow your pictures.

Walks

I have been hearing a bit from my mother that I am not posting enough pictures. So:

I took Ian and Mira on a couple of walks last week, downtown and around the neighborhood. It was super fun (and not raining!) though at some point Mira always insists that I carry her.

I love this because it reminds me of some photos of me at this age.

No walk around the block is complete without a snack cup.

Mira remains exceptionally hard to photograph. She never sits still for a picture.

Proud

I was fiddling with some piece of my blog the other day, and clicked over to the color photos page. Scrolling slowly through the pictures, I felt something unexpected: pride. Not only are these photos that I like, but I feel good about them as a photographer. In fact, this is one of the things I am most proud of from 2010. I feel a little strange writing that, given that I know so many fantastic photographers. But what is honest is that while not always as technically perfect as others' work, my photographs strongly reflect my personality and point of view. Looking at these color photos gives you a little glimpse at how I see things. I have the urge to explain the me in each picture, but I will let explanation go for today.

January (Orange)

February (Gray)

March (Brown)

April (Pink)

May (Purple)

June (Black)

Despite my good feelings about this project and my pictures, photography is something I have mostly put aside as the demands of work and family press on me in mostly wonderful (but still noticeable) ways. I want to pick up my big heavy camera and wander the streets or chase after the little oddities I see. (Strangely, the documentary Exit Through The Gift Shop kind of intensified that urge. If you have not seen it I urge you to check it out.)

I still have the eye, but I don't have the time. I have been limited to doing what I can with the iphone camera (and its wonderful apps), but I still yearn for more camera time. I have decided to buy a 50mm lens with some birthday money that came my way and was a little sad I hadn't already gotten one in time to take to SF last weekend. No matter. (But if you use a nikon slr and have a 50mm you like, tell me about it. I am still looking.)

July (Red)

August (Green)

September (Yellow)

October (Blue)

November (White)

By the way, I didn't forget December. This was always envisioned as an 11 month project, as I figured I might be kind of busy in December. Good thing I didn't have any sense of how busy, or I might never have started this. 

Laugh Now

On my last day off with the kids I took Ian and Mira on some errands and then out to lunch. Ian sought out this graffiti covered wall.

I so love that Portland graffiti says things like "laugh now."

Ian was so taken with this wall that when our lunch arrived he did not
want to sit down.

And yes, he is wearing purple pants with pink hearts. Wearing them well, I'd say.

For my pal Ellen, while it is still her birthday*

Happy birthday to one of my favorite people!

(This photo would only be better if you were wearing a fake mustache)

 *I would have posted earlier but we were at a lovely dinner at her brother's place, enjoying wonderful food, charming company and my animated attempts to pantomime due to laryngitis. I am sure the prosecco made that last part seem totally hilarious. 

I could eat them up

Little Mama, Kitchen Edition

I think I may have mentioned before that when I was a kid my mother would sometimes say of herself, "I'm just a little mommy." It usually came up when she could not meet some demand as my sister and I wished (which is to say, immediately and perfectly). As an adult I understood that my mom was telling us that she was a real (and like everyone, imperfect) person and my sister and I should cut her some slack. 

I sometimes employ the "little mommy" moniker. Ada is too young to really understand what it means, but tonight we had the following conversation:

Ada: You are a little mama and Papa is a big papa.

Me: Oh yeah?

Ada: Yeah, that's because he is big and you are smaller than him. And you can't cook.

I'd argue with her, but then I might be expected to hold up my end of the cooking duties around here.

Not Dead, Just Older

In November and December I worked myself like crazy on some projects that ended with the close of 2010. I have a lot more to do, but for a moment I have a little breather in which I am not working every night after the kids are in bed, and not feeling compelled to check in on email even when I am with my family. After doing a little work (that needed to be done, and done by me) on the first day of my vacation, I put down the blackberry and didn't pick it up again until Sunday.

It was very relaxing, if you don't count the normal chaos of life with three kids, which feels like this, in a good way:

Oh, and I turned 39. Here is my birthday self-portrait:

I am still sorting through pictures, but will try to post some others soon. Even some taken with an actual camera, maybe.

Oh, and lest you think we did not enjoy the rest of our holiday, evidence that Ada was in a good mood:

and, in one of my prouder moments, my almost unspeakably awesome contribution to Chris' extended family's Christmas Eve white elephant exchange:

In case you can't read the text, it says: 40 Individual Intimate Moments with Joel and Kathy Davisson (issued by SxveOxrChrxstianMxrriage.com).

Here's your list

On Sunday night Ada decided she wanted to write a letter to Santa. Chris and I had not specifically suggested this, but neither had we discouraged it.

By the time Ada sat down to write her letter, I was frankly a little worried. What if she asked for things we have not planned on getting her? I have already done my shopping for her, Ian and Mira, and I was not prepared to have to make alterations or exchanges.

I should not have worried. Ada's list is more whimsical than practical:

Translation:

Dear Santa,
Here's your list:
I want a cat that talks.
I want a magic pen.
I want a making snowman kit.

I am thinking I might include a box with snowman making items (carrot nose, rocks for eyes, scarf, mittens and a hat). I can probably locate a glitter pen that we can declare is magic. I am less sure about how to help her with the talking cat, but one never knows what might happen!

I hope it doesn't work that way

Ada and her pal are playing a pretend game that involves being teenagers with jobs:

L: We have to get to work! Our boss would fire us! Ada, do you even know what that means?

A: Yeah.

L: It means actually FIRE us, like, put us in the fireplace.

My Life, Flashing Before My Eyes

My Pummelvision from Nora on Vimeo.

I am not looking forward to death, but if the last few hours before I die were like an extended version of this, it would really help.

I am mad. What do you need?

Or, my godson, my blog-fodder:

Monkey Boy was home sick one day recently. While his mother ran around doing things that needed to be done, he sat in his pajamas playing his guitar with a piece of cardboard and singing this song, entitled I am mad. What do you need? 

What do you do you do you do you need? What do you need?

What do you need in the world right now? 

What do you neeeeeeeeed?!?

I think this may be my new theme song. 

Wordless Wednesday (Burrito Boy)

(yes, he does have a bruise on his forehead. And yes, the bruise is shaped like the star trek logo. And no, I can't explain that.)

One Book I Was Not Tempted To Buy For The Kids At Goodwill

What all the moms of multiples are laughing about this week

Good Reads

Some of recent favorites:

A post by Moose in the Kitchen about trying to save a wayward dog (and how it made her feel about San Francisco).

The blog Infinite Garage Project, in which Raina documents all the stuff her mom left behind in her house and three car garage.

Read anything Smacksy writes. She is hilarious and her son is wise.

another reason I am thankful that my children have so many clothes

About once a week I need to take Ian and Mira with me to pick up Ada from school. The most direct route requires climbing a flight of stairs on the way to Ada's classroom. If I want to take Ian and Mira inside in their stroller, I have to go around to the far side of the school, past the entrance nearest to Ada's classroom, and back down the hallways packed with elementary school kids trying to get out of the building. Have you ever seen salmon swimming upstream? It is a little like that, except that I am the salmon and the kids are the current.

To avoid the stroller-derby, I often bring a baby backpack along and, leaving the stroller at a bike rack, I transfer one kid to the pack and let the other walk with me up the stairs and down the hall to Ada's class. At first this worked fine, but now the kid in the pack gets annoyed that she or he is not the one granted freedom. (And frankly, the walker gets annoyed when I keep steering him or her away from all the fun things in Ada's classroom.) Getting the kids back into the stroller after we get Ada is also a problem.

The other day Mira lost the coin toss and was on my back while Ian got to roam. Mira complained the whole time I had her in the pack and both she and Ian were less than excited when I suggested they get back into the stroller for the walk home. Luckily, Ada decided she would like to walk with Mira.

The two girls took off down the block while Ian and I moved at a more leisurely pace. (He decided he needed to touch each pole we passed, yelling "pole!" and smiling broadly.) When we got to the end of the block, I had to negotiate two toddlers, the stroller and one "big" kid. Oh, and the actual corner was blocked off that day, as it was under construction to make it more accessible (workers were putting in a yellow rumble strip*). Ada had Mira's hand, while I held Ian's and pushed the stroller. Except that Ada didn't notice that the big pile of wet leaves next to the curb hid a fair sized puddle. Mira stepped off the curb and into the leafy puddle, falling over and soaking herself. Did I mention it was cold and rainy that day?

After our collective "oh crap" moment, Ada takes over the stroller while I hold Ian's hand and carry Mira football style across the street. Safe on the sidewalk I strip Mira of her pants, shoes and socks. She does not appear upset to be covered in icy, muddy water. Nor does she mind being stripped to her diaper on a cold and rainy street corner. What she does mind is being put back into the stroller. Crazy person that I am, I think she'll be warmer (and dare I think, happier) in the stroller, cozy in a fleece wrap.  Needless to say (but I will), she is NOT happy. She screams and stiffens. Meanwhile, Ian finds a stick and starts poking a puddle. Ada alerts me to Ian's entertainments, so I ask her to make sure he stays out of the street. I shove Mira into the stroller and ignore her wails while I strap her in. Looking up, I see Ada (on the sidewalk) watching Ian (in the street) happily standing in and poking a large puddle by the curb.

Alarmed, I ask Ada if I hadn't told her to keep him out of the street. "I couldn't stop him" she says. Not wanting to stop to argue, I scoop up Ian (muttering my "no street, no street" mantra) and strip off his soggy boots before shoving him in the stroller. Chaos contained (or at least limited to two wailing toddlers) we slowly make our way home, where we all change clothes and have warm snacks and drinks.

Ah, parenthood. All's well that end's well, right? This story comes to mind a lot in the weeks since it happened. I think of it especially when people sympathetically say things like "it must be so hard to be at work and missing your kids." I do miss them but I don't miss building more memories like this one.


* You really do learn something new every day. That stuff is called tactile paving, apparently.

Random Quote and Unrelated Photo of the Week

Must all shortcuts and conveniences be subject to so much epicurean bullying and such internal shame?

Frank Bruni
Loving Coffee Without Being A Drip

Truer Words Were Never Written

I think she intended to make more comparisons between us, but got distracted.

Before the Month is Up

From the October (Blue) series. Ten color months down, one to limp through go.