Winner and stuff to say.

Congrats Alli Brown, you won our Fuji Instax! Sweet.  We'll email you and send it off. Thanks everyone for your comments. We thought about buying everyone who commented and Instax, but then woke up from a dream. ha.

Well, it's safe to say the last two days have totally kicked our booties.  Tyler and I are completely worn out and even the kids are emotionally drained.  We are technically out of the house although there is re-painting left to do. It turns out that making your whole house of stuff disappear is pretty complicated.

Let us tell you whatwe learned NOT to do, and for those of you who already learned this lesson the hard way, go ahead and laugh. We know you feel our misery.

What not to do: Don't take your child on an errand to drop off your things forever at Goodwill. It's a very very bad idea. Because when he hops out of the car to be helpful and carry things inside for you, he will see the stuffed puppy you are giving away that he allegedly loved and the comforter that went on his bed for 3 years and yes even the ugly old fan that served as his "sleeping noise" since birth. 

And then that boy will cry, deep sobs even, about how he's sick of giving his stuff away and can't he just keep his fan and his puppy dog that he never played with????

Your heart will be broken, and you might even question your current parenting choices and second guess your entire lifestyle.

So, that is my advice. Of course that was very hard, but then I realized, this behavior was really unusual for our Isaac, and maybe this was just his lack of sleep and hunger talking. I suggested this to him. Isaac was apalled that I would suggest it.  But off we went to fill his belly and you know what? He was a new boy. 

"Mom, I hope I didn't hurt your feelings when I said I was sick of giving my stuff away. I have my legos. That's all I need."

All is right again in the world. Or maybe after 20 straight hours of sleep it will be!

Image is a re-post from May in NYC. I would like to feel awake enough to jump like this.

 

Take it, it's yours!

We thought it might be fun to give away our extremely lightly used Fuji Instax Wide Instant Camera!  

This is it:

We'll include a little pack of film, too.  Just leave a comment to enter! US only, please. Be sure to leave your email in the box, where only we can see it. Winner will be randomly chosen sometime Thursday.

Our camera is your camera.

A house, a home.

This week's agenda includes us officially saying goodbye to our house for an indefinite amount of time. Yes, we own our house here in Southern California, but we are not tied emotionally to it, and so, we will rent it out and come back in a year or three or never. 

It's quite a weird feeling, really, to be moving out of a house and selling all of our belongings.  Excepting for what will fit in our car, we have decided to sell it or give it away rather than get a storage unit to hold it indefinitely.

We've moved countless times before, but it's been just a shifting of things from one place to another. Only when you have to actually rid yourself of everything do you realize what a boatload of crap you have. 

 

I was thinking about our ability to part with things. To some, maybe even most, personal belongings can represent a social status, a memory or a part of life we'd like to hang on to, or just a vulnerability when you walk in a store. Some people are really good at sifting through memorabilia and knowing what to keep or not keep. Some are not. 

We've sorted our things into three piles. One pile: things I don't need. The second pile: Things we will take with us. The last: things Tyler or I or the kids will want to hold in our hands again one day (to be stored... somewhere). We ended up with two boxes we will keep. In one, my old baby clothes, Tyler's small childhood knicknacks and schoolwork, My scrapbooks and albums.  In the other, a few tiny newborn outfits, their birthfamily gifts and memories, homemade blankets and schoolwork and art projects. 

Tonight as I was hefting these two boxes off the floor and onto a shelf, I thought how amazing it is that both physical obects and intangible memories can trigger such nostalgic feelings of "home". To some, a home means a physical place where you reside and stay, and to others, a home means being with the ones you love. 

Hopefully parting with most of our physical things will be rewarding.  It certainly was this past year, but even then I knew all our stuff was here waiting. I personally look forward to a period of time, however long it may be, where I can concentrate again on what memories we are making rather than what stuff we are collecting. I want to try out, one more time- the theory that a home is not a house, where you store and collect things, make it look pretty, work to make it pleasing to your guests. A home is where your memories are being created, where your family is.

What do you think, friends... do you think a home is a place, the people you love, or somewhere in between?

A beautiful session in the woods of Oslo, Norway.

the rain and the orchard

***just found this draft in our inbox from July.  Whoops! ***

In July, around the 4th, we always find ourselves in Utah, with the Nielsons, in the orchard.  We all love this place.  It has so much significance to the Nielsons- and always will.  

This year the shoot was interrupted 5 minutes in by a sudden downpour and lightning/thunderstorm. A magical place somehow became even more magical. The kids were running around dancing, Stephanie and Christian shrugged their shoulders and went on as usual. In 40 seconds flat everyone was soaked through. 

Tyler and I were really worried about our cameras and equipment... but kept on shooting because things like this don't happen too often. Too often a family will run for cover and kids will cry when rain hits- but not so on this day.  After the orchard pictures we ran out to the street where the sun was streaming beautiful orangey light onto the pavement- I hate to say it again, but it was magical. 

I love Utah and it's sudden dramatic thunderstorms. This July we were treated to at least one a day!

Just to be more ridiculously awesome and beautiful, a rainbow appeared as they drove off. Niiiice.

Alt Summit 2012

This is our second year at Alt Summit and it has not disappointed. We thought we should probably make last year's Alt Summit Bathroom shoot a tradition. 

So we did. 

Last year we stayed at the Grand America hotel the whole weekend, but this year we didn't. Which means we couldn't just set our alarms for 4am and sneak down to the enormous bathrooms with ease. This took planning.

We decided it's a lot less awkward, but still very very awkward, for us to get caught taking photos in a men's bathroom than it would be in a women's bathroom.  But still, there's a lot of adrenaline pumping when you and your husband are armed with a camera in a bathroom, acting suspicious.

This year it went like this. We drove up to the hotel, acted like we were going to park Valet. "We're just checking in," we said.  The valet said, ok, just don't take longer than 5 minutes.  

So we BOLTED to the back of the Grand America where this large, ultra fancy marble encased men's room is. Did the urinal shot, flipped this time. As we ran back and forth in front of the urinals, their automatic flushers kept flushing, which gave me a heartattack every time since I thought some dude was about to pop out of a stall and give us a weird look. 

This was no 4 am shoot. This was prime time. But we did it and it was hilarious. It's ok... we are weird.

Alt Summit is a wonderful conference- you should go next year if you are into design blogging- and if not, just for the bathrooms.

final step of the shoot: incinerate the clothing worn while sitting on toilets and bathroom floor.

handholding

Isaac and I cross the street. We cross hand in hand. Isaac is almost to the age where he will no longer hold my hand. I have never discouraged displays of affection with my son, noting their impermanence at inception. I have stored up the odd hug and kiss and high five. Even absent normal peer pressure, he has begun to stop holding my hand.

His wants to be his own boy. His sometimes refusal is about independence, not embarrassment. Kisses and hugs are still allowed and enjoyed. I am an affectionate person. So for me, the fact that at age 7.5 Isaac allows this behavior in his daddy is perfect. I hope he will always, but make no plans beyond enjoying the present.

This is the sweet angst of watching your children grow up. I have always been madly in love with my kids. I am constantly thinking that it could not possibly get better than this. To be clear, I am speaking generally here. I am not saying so much every minute as every age.

I have, with great strength of character, left behind diapers and full body tantrums and illiteracy. I watch my kids grow more sensitive, interesting, and knowledgeable. Sure, pudgy cheeks and hour long cuddles are missed. But the exchange has always come out in my favor.

Today, Isaac holds my hand. As we cross the abnormally wide street, Isaac relates to me a story about a dream where he and Belle are fighting evil with pies. I contemplate whether there is a better antidote to evil than pie.

His monologue stops. This sudden stop is unusual. It causes me to look down at him. My gaze then turns to the object of his hard stare.

I woman holds a sign. She is obviously homeless. The wear of living on the streets makes it obvious. Isaac asks me what the sign says. It reads, "Homeless".

Isaac walks slowly. His lips move, but no sound escapes. He finally voices his thought, "Can we keep her?"

I explain to him that this is a fantastic idea. We discuss things we can do to help her. In the end, we decide on a different course of action to help her than having her transplant herself from Salt Lake City to California. After implementing our decision, we walk away from the woman.

I smile broadly as we walk away. I grab Isaac’s hand and give it a squeeze. He immediately wriggles free of my grasp.

My smile widens.

From Utah, summertime.