Reflections

Josie and I playing at the creek. A reflection portrait. I am an expert creature catcher.

Maker

I am a maker. I'm typically never satisfied with ready made items because I have a specific vision about what I want something to be. This applies to many areas of my life. My home, my garden, party planning, even cleaning. I hired a cleaner once when I had 3 babies under 3 and I was overwhelmed. They did a crap job by my standards. They pushed dirty mop water around like they were working at McDonalds or something. This self portrait is of me, on the craft room floor, fighting with the printer and Microsoft Word to create an 10th anniversary invitation/announcement. I've purposely blurred the images of the actual product because if you know me IRL I want you to be surprised when you receive it in the mail. 

Yet another role I play, another hat I wear. I am a maker. 

Ta-Dah! Gray and owning it.

All the highlights have been cut out of my hair. All that is left is me. Natural and gray at 37. It's not as horrible as I thought to let go. Sometimes I catch a glimpse in the mirror and am surprised to see my mom looking back....and then realize it's just me. 

One thing no one tells you about going gray is how much coarser the hair is. Wiry little buggers. On the positive side I think it sets off my blue eyes. What do you think? 

Cake Decorator

When I started this self-portrait project I didn't realize how much of it will delve into the roles I play and the hats I wear. In our house my wife is the baker, she even won 2nd place for her apple pie at the county fair last year. She's gunning for first place this year. 

But when it comes to decorating (or pinching pie edges) that's my domain. We always let the kids choose their birthday cake and try our best to make it happen. This year Lili, my 9 year old, is having a glow in the dark dance party. I decorated her chocolate cake with neon icing. It's so 80's it makes me feel old to have it all coming back into style. 

Cute Kittty alert

I'm a cat person, always have been. But this cat, Maestro, is my favorite pet ever. I've grown having many pets. I once had a squirrel when my mother's boyfriend displaced the family when roofing. I had a pet duck when at my aunts farm and the mom wouldn't have anything to do with the runt of the litter. As I got older I also had rats, mice, fish, hamsters, etc. My mom had dogs growing up but I never understood the bond. 

My youngest started kindergarten this year and I'm yearning for a little baby again. I think Maestro knows because he loves to crawl up into my arms and sleep. Sometimes it can make it difficult if I'm trying to do something else. But let's face it, if a kitty gives you that much love you just stop what you're doing and enjoy it. 

In the Moment

I tell my children stories of when they were babies. I miss baby time, holding and rocking, carrying in a sling them being little babies. Josie reminded my in all her childhood wisdom "Mom your gonna miss me being this age someday". She's right. Aren't they always? So thank you Bellaboo for reminding me that Eight is a perfectly wonderful, cuddly age. The age that you became a reader in earnest. The age that you were in the school play. The age that you weren't too old to climb up in your mamas lap and let her give you a kiss. I know in a few more years you won't let me snuggle you so much. I need to live in the moment, now, before you grow up on me. 

Aging

Another reason I am not in many family photos is well.....I just don't really want to be. I'm not as young as I used to be, or as skinny, or as......well anything. You know how they say you're never as fat as you think you are? My goodness what I wouldn't give to be as "fat" as I thought I was at 23. Ya know? Now not only is time marching on...and marching across my face. It's also marching across my ass. I'm not one of those people who is going to age gracefully. I'm going to complain about it every step of the way. In the shadows of this portrait you can see the beginnings of jowls, that ungraceful saggy thing that happens when your cheeks start sliding off your face. I don't like this aging thing and I've discovered that I really don't like documenting much either. I'll just have to remember what I tell my daughter. You don't have to like it, you just have to be okay with it. Besides, not like I can do much about it anyway right?