Savannah

So, apparently I've quit my 365 challenge. I tried, I really did. But it seems 2012 has thrown a lot more at us than I expected, and I buckled under the pressure. This does not mean I'm going to stop trying to take pictures every day. It just means that I don't really need any more pressure at the moment.

Not stressing about the 365 has given me a little more time to focus on a few really fun projects, one of which included the adorable Savannah. She's a super cute almost 6 month old with loads of personality. She just happens to be the little miracle that belongs to one of my best friends. Everyone thinks their kids are miracles, and to each parent they probably are. I won't get into all of the little details about why this particular little girl is a miracle to her parents, it's not really my place to do so anyways. But suffice it to say that she is.

She had a bit of a cold the day of our little shoot. Her poor momma spent a good portion of the hour wiping snot from her nose and drool from her mouth. I've got to say I'm a little partial to the drool. There are some things that are so quintessentially indicative of a 6 month old. Teething drool is just one of those things.

Wrinkly baby butts, tiny toes, a few tears, all of these things become precious to us a mothers when we look back at the pictures of our babies at this age. For never again will they be fascinated with their own little perfect feet. Never again will they work so vigorously to cut little teeth, or have the exact same sweet soft, curved cheeks. Never again will they be their little, perfect six month selves.

They will never be the same, and yet we will love them more. (How is that even possible???) Every month they will grow both more perfect and more imperfect all at the same time. And our hearts will soak them up until we feel it might burst if forced to contain any more love.

We think we can not love then more, and yet we do. Every second of everyday. They are so perfect in their imperfections and they are OURS. There is no more perfect love than that.

I Heart Faces {Hugs & Kisses}

There are some weeks where I have a really hard time with the IHF challenges. I'll look through so many of my pictures and whatever "it" is, I'm not finding it. This is great, it encourages me to go and and take more pictures. To think outside of the box. More often than not, this is what happens.

For this challenge I just knew that I had something fabulous lurking amongst the bajillion pictures on my computer. I had a lot to choose from. Apparently, we have quite the kissy, huggy family. I was stuck between two. One of my little love and her Daddy. A sweet memory for me as a mom of my people out on a fantastic family day.

And then there was this.

As a military family who live a whopping 22 hour car ride away from our family, these moments are precious to me. A stolen moment between my love and her Pop Pop. I love the largeness of his hand next to her little face. I love the sweet little half smile on her lips, the the look of tenderness on Pop Pops face. It is for things like this that I fell in love with photography in the first place. A moment that might have drifted off to be replaced by all of the bigger moments, if not for the love of this camera. This, my friends, is a moment of pure, shining beauty.

There are so many beautiful entries this week over at IHF! Go check them out, or enter one yourself!

Days...

I've totally lost track of the days. I have been remiss. I have viewed my camera as sometime chore, sometime savior, sometime simply friend. Lately, she has been a stranger. I yearn for the days when our relationship was easy, natural, second nature. I think she misses me too. She sits there oft unused, but she is a patient friend. She reminds me, gently, that these days are precious. That daily challenges and guilt are not part of the journey. That the magic we make together is not gone, just gently pushed aside for the most important thing in the world; time. Time to heal wounds, time to pour love into my little love while she misses her Daddy. She has not left me, my solitary friend. She is just waiting for the inspiration that is never far from my heart.

Tomorrow my camera friend and I will have the honor of capturing family pictures for a really awesome couple and their very cute kids. You can't help but be inspired by the love of a young family. Maybe my camera will forgive me for my frequent absences.

Though often absent, I have not forgotten. I did, in fact, take a few pictures throughout the past few weeks. They centered around the two most important people in my life, as usual. We were soaking up lots of Daddy time in preparation for a few weeks apart. My two little Chelsea Football fans.

I could never tire of watching these two. Dressed in matching Chelsea clothes, the little watching Daddy's every move, learning when to cheer and when to yell. Learning to love something that he loves so much. But alas, they never do sit still long.

My favorite though is when they don't know I'm watching them at all. In almost all circumstances the camera is enough for me. It can perfectly capture the moment, locking it away forever as something so much bigger than just a girl and her Dad. There are little pockets of moments, however, where the camera just isn't enough. Where I wish I could "photograph" a moment. Lock away the smells, the sounds, the feelings as perfectly as the image.

The night before he left was one such night. I was out in the backyard, my little family was inside, sitting on the floor playing with giant legos. Muddy Waters was playing inside, the soulful sounds drifting out to me in giant, raspy crescendos. The smell of garlic and chicken on the stove clung to me, giving me this amazing, perfect feeling of home. You know these times I speak of? When everything, sounds, smells, sights, hearts all converge into one shining, perfect moment. This was one such time for me. I did grab the camera and, like a creeper, snuck pictures of my family through the window. (Maybe I could someday moonlight as a spy, or a creep.) For the first time in a long time, the pictures weren't enough. But they were something. I can't bottle up the moment, but I can keep one small piece of it and pray that my brain captured the rest. Only time will tell.

{day 36 and 38}

Making the days wacky, just to keep you on your toes. :)

I once read a blog of a really talented photographer who said something to the effect that she pretty much puts the camera down during the winter and resumes in the spring, because she can't find anything to inspire her during the cold, dreary winter months. I kind of get that. I mean, everywhere you turn in the spring in summer, you can find something to stir your heart. A new flower pushing through the earth, trees made beautiful by their brilliantly green leaves, the late afternoon sun. I do so look forward to the spring.

That being said, I have found a special kind of joy in the search for the beautiful during the winter months. It can certainly push you creatively. Maybe because I'm fairly new to the world of photography I find that I crave the challenge. I figure if I can continue to produce pleasing pictures when very little is pleasing to the eye right now, then I can only be growing as some sort of an artist. (I still feel like a pretentious bum when I say things like that, but you know what I mean.) Any photographer, be they amateur or professional, can't but benefit from constant time behind the camera. And you never know, maybe a piece of your heart will forever be sold to the simplicity of the chill winter sky, as a piece of mine is.

{day 37}

I know, I know, I missed 36. I will get on that pronto. Or tomorrow. I do have the pictures, I just couldn't wait to share the few pictures I got of one of the cutest babies in the world. (And I don't say that lightly, seeing as I had a pretty stunning baby myself.)

Apparently my camera LOVES baby faces. Or at least this baby face. Who couldn't?

We spent a lot of time at the window. She's apparently just figured out how to pull herself up at the window in the past few days. A whole new world has opened up for this new little mind. A mind that is eager to soak up all that she sees . She does so with a sense of innocence and sweetness that only those new to our world seem to be able to manage.

Eventually Kellan realized, in her infinite baby wisdom, that there was more to the world (or the house) than what was beyond that window. And so she crawled, chewed on some shoes, chewed on a treasure chest.

But eventually the lure of the world outside proved to be too much, and back to the window she went. Go get it, baby girl.

{day 35}

I long for the days when life was so simple, nothing could make my heart happier than to blow bubbles, draw with chalk, play with sticks and throwing rocks. There is nothing more simple and pure than childhood. My little love has been asking me for days to go outside, but due to healing boo boos we haven't really been able to get out as much as she'd like. You would have thought the little thing had won the lottery when she woke up from her nap and I told her we were heading outside.

We took a break from bubbles to play with chalk. Grace asked me to write a special message to her. Easy as pie, baby.

After about three potty breaks, we got back down to bubble business. My camera and my baby were playing well together. Happiness all around.

{day 34}

My husband is my hero. I maybe don't tell him this enough, but as a man, father, husband, friend, son, etc he amazes me at every turn. He's a soldier, which makes him a national hero in his own right. Almost seven year sago he quit college and put on a uniform to join a cause he believed in with all of his heart. We couldn't have known then all that would entail. Months (sometimes over a year) apart, missed Birthdays and holidays, long hours at work and not nearly enough time home. He's lost friends and endured trial upon tribulation. He stood by my side and mourned the loss of a daughter. He cried tears of joy the day our little miracle baby made her grand entrance into the world. All of these grand gestures make him a hero to most who know him.

These grand gestures of his mean more to me than most. But these are not the things that most impress me. Anyone has the potential to make their mark upon the world. Few can do so and still be heroes when they walk in the door. My husband does this every day.

He comes home exhausted and over stimulated. He probably just wants to be left alone. Instead he plops kisses on me and his baby. He sits down and talks to us, asks us how our days went. When a three year old tells you about her day it can be a long, rambling story of things that can seem inconsequential to most grown ups. He listens and he interacts. He never seems bored or annoyed.

It warms my heart as it does any mother's to see the man I love so in love with this amazing little person we created.

It makes me know that I have chosen well in life. That I must have done something right, somewhere, at some time, to have earned these amazing people. He's a hero to a lot of people just by vocation. He's a hero to us because he strives every day to be a man she can always look up to. He is setting the example now for what she will expect in her own relationships in the future.

 If she can find someone half as decent, honorable and loving as the man I chose for us she will be the happiest girl in the world.

 What more could any woman want?