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?

Portrait of a self-portrait

My main motivation behind this project was wanting more pictures of myself  in our family albums. My secondary goal was to force myself to work on a long term creative project. Often when I'm setting up a shot for this project my wife will offer to take the photo for me. I say "no" it wouldn't be a self-portrait then! While attempting to document me rehabbing a bookcase I got a little creative today. I caught a glimpse of me  taking my own portrait. A portrait of a self-portrait. My hands, reflected back in my own eyes. 

Tired

Sometimes I'm just tired. Worn out. I may look mad here but really I'm just exhausted. I've been a type 2 diabetic for about 5 years now. My weight is at it's lowest point since diagnosis and my AIC is near perfect. but some days having a body that doesn't work the way it used to just sucks. My ten year wedding anniversary is in just a few more months and I'd like to get into better shape by then. When my son was in morning preschool I would go to the gym 2-3 days a week to workout. I felt great. I felt strong. This year in order to ensure he had a small class size we put him in the afternoon kindergarten. I'm a morning person. So that has cut out any gym time for me. Really any me time, for me. I'm trying hard to take some time in the afternoon and focus on me. But sometimes......I'd rather take a nap. 

Cultural Divide

I know this shot doesn't actually show my face but it does show ME. I'm a transracial adoptive mama. That means I learned how to part, cornrow, two strand twist, oil and bead african american hair. It means that I'm often judged by how my girls hair looks. It means I never think I'm good enough. My hands can do the work. But my heart always worries. I worry that their mostly white peers will never understand what it means to be a black girl with kinky hair in a straight hair world. I worry that black parents will judge my attempts at the strong cultural tradition of mothers and daughters doing hair. Sunday is typically hair day at our house. For my daughter Lili, right now that means tightening the locs we've just begun. Lili is carefree and joyful and looks best when her hair is short and sassy. For my daughter Josie though, hair day is more involved. She is more in tune with what it means to have hair that is different. She wants straight hair like the pretty blonde white girls in her class. So we spend a lot of time blow drying, flat ironing, slicking back into a pony tail and making sure her hair doesn't get wet during the week. 

A Morning Mom...just like my mom

I never thought I would be a morning person. Then I had kids. Just like my mom I'm up at the crack of dawn with a cup of coffee in my hands. As a teenager I would curse my mom for vacuuming while I was trying to sleep. Why did she have to do everything so early? Now I am exactly like her.

My wife is the exact opposite, it works well for us as parents. I take the morning shift, singing them the wake up song, making breakfast, finding library books and lost shoes. She takes the evening shift, making sure everyone brushes their teeth, reading bedtime stories ....and I don't know what else. Because by then I'm exhausted and out of patience. :) I'm a morning mama.

This self portrait is of a typical morning activity. We watch the door for the school bus, kids lined up ready to go with back packs on, me checking the clock every few minutes.

Going Gray

I've been dying my hair since I was 13. First it was Sun In to lighten my already blondish hair. Later it was a little wilder, blue, hot pink stripes. Manic Panic temporary hair dye was my 20's obsession. Now nearing 40 I dye my hair not for fun or experimentation but to hide my gray hair. Hair grays early on my father's side of the family. My older sister, Tammy, found my first gray hair when I was 21. Recently, I decided to let the silver shine. I lightened my hair to blend more nicely with my salt-colored future. There was more pepper than I thought there would be and I'm still afraid someone is going to think I'm my kids grandma instead of their mom. But here I am. Going gray, and so far... it's okay. 

Self portraits

I'm a mom. I'm also the photographer in the family. That typically means that one day when my children look back at our photo albums.....I won't be in them. Arrrgghhh! So this year I'm going to start a journey of self portraiture. I want to depict my life everyday and also be creatively challenged to find ME. So this is my journey coming out from behind the lens.