Together

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Together

Surrounded by waves or blankets, doesn't it all seem so much better when you are together, with the ones you love?

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

She told me that she missed doing things with me outside. We go out most days, even the cold one. We dig tunnels and make slides. We play army. We walk on frozen streams. We sled. She and I haven't been in such harmony in ages, it feels like. And it was such a simple fix, such a simple way to reconnect. Just get outside. And play. Photo by Olivia Gatti Facebook :: Website

She told me that she missed doing things with me outside. We go out most days, even the cold one. We dig tunnels and make slides. We play army. We walk on frozen streams. We sled. She and I haven't been in such harmony in ages, it feels like. And it was such a simple fix, such a simple way to reconnect. Just get outside. And play.

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Facebook :: Website


you now say all of their names.  to you, they are “deh”, “do duh”, and “suh suh”.  you and i talk about them a lot during the day. i think it helps you feel less lonely while they are away. Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

you now say all of their names.  to you, they are “deh”, “do duh”, and “suh suh”.  you and i talk about them a lot during the day. i think it helps you feel less lonely while they are away.

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

Blog :: Facebook

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

I have suffered from seasonal affective disorder all my adult life, each year getting worse and worse. But this year, with some wonderful guidance and deep, dark soul and energy work, I finally cracked the sadness. In fact, I came to find the sadness beautiful when it came around, but more so, I found ways to feel more excited, hopeful, and inspired. No more dealing with it, counting the days. I became ever-present in the weather, the cold, the dark. And the biggest secret: I started to look to the skies. I started following the lunar cycles and celebrating them with small rituals. I stand beneath the stars and ponder the space between them. We skate on frozen streams at sunset. And I share this all with you. You see, it is all inside you. Every. Single. Thing. And if you simply sit with that knowledge, you can start to find peace and freedom. My sweet child, this is it. It is beautiful. Photo by Olivia Gatti Facebook :: Website

I have suffered from seasonal affective disorder all my adult life, each year getting worse and worse. But this year, with some wonderful guidance and deep, dark soul and energy work, I finally cracked the sadness. In fact, I came to find the sadness beautiful when it came around, but more so, I found ways to feel more excited, hopeful, and inspired. No more dealing with it, counting the days. I became ever-present in the weather, the cold, the dark. And the biggest secret: I started to look to the skies. I started following the lunar cycles and celebrating them with small rituals. I stand beneath the stars and ponder the space between them. We skate on frozen streams at sunset. And I share this all with you. You see, it is all inside you. Every. Single. Thing. And if you simply sit with that knowledge, you can start to find peace and freedom. My sweet child, this is it. It is beautiful.

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Facebook :: Website


we had lots of time to talk over these past couple weeks of winter break.  there were many conversations about how hard this school year has been on your sweet heart.  friendship or the lack thereof has weighed you down much more than i ever could have imagined.  you are only in second grade and already you seem resigned to this idea that no one will ever like you.  i have tried and tried to convince you that this simply isn’t the truth.  i wish you could open your eyes wide enough to see what is right here in front of you.  i know these people aren’t exactly what you think you want or need right now but these little souls adore you and years from now when you are grown and you are surrounded by others who love and respect you, i hope you will remember these people who loved you right from the start.  there is nothing truer than this.  Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

we had lots of time to talk over these past couple weeks of winter break.  there were many conversations about how hard this school year has been on your sweet heart.  friendship or the lack thereof has weighed you down much more than i ever could have imagined.  you are only in second grade and already you seem resigned to this idea that no one will ever like you.  i have tried and tried to convince you that this simply isn’t the truth.  i wish you could open your eyes wide enough to see what is right here in front of you.  i know these people aren’t exactly what you think you want or need right now but these little souls adore you and years from now when you are grown and you are surrounded by others who love and respect you, i hope you will remember these people who loved you right from the start.  there is nothing truer than this. 

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

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Summer Baby

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Summer Baby

Oh, the sweetness of summer. To put your feet in the sand and splash in the ocean. To sip homemade lemonade and come home exhausted from camp. To wander from room to room with your new, little babe, adoring him and pouring over every feature and face he makes. These photos are all that, and more.

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A Year in Photos | 2017

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A Year in Photos | 2017

It feels easy for me to drop in some dark thinking over this past year. It has been shocking. And so, that is why those who brought the light this year have felt extremely bright and important. And these people and events deserve to be celebrated. I have come to find my community of politically like-minded people and they are my neighbors! And they are so much more than that. The network of solidarity is so much larger than I ever could've hoped for. There is a place for what I feel and how I think, and it is beautiful and deep and rich. This year I was fortunate enough to have explored my craft in the most intimate way and forged relationships with women in a circle that I feel will never break. We swam in beautiful water. We burned fires in the woods. We danced under the Milky Way. My children, my husband, my family all grew in so many ways this year, and we capped it off with the most epic wedding of all time. I am so thankful for my family, who always shows me true happiness, safety and joy. And lastly, the babies. The beautiful babies born this year, two of which I witnessed. 

Thank you for the endless love and support for my photography. It is my calling. It is my peace. Sharing it with the world feels very right.

Pssst: Click the HD button for best viewing!

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

A year ago, we were concerned with how little you interacted with your peers. And to be fair, you were in a mixed-age classroom, where the older kids seemed way wiser and more together than most four and five year olds. And you were just three. And you had fallen into the fog. You were happy, but not interested in anyone beyond your family. I was sure it was the end of the world. I was sure you would never have a friend or play like a "typical" kid. Fear consumed me. I let it. And I did everything I could to hide the fear from everyone, especially you. Fast forward to today, and you are transformed. Are you what the charts and doctors say you should be? What the hell do I care. We work on it all, but I don't feel the fear, and you still are as happy as can be AND you have friends. Time. Milestones. Expectations. I'm learning to let these constraints all go. I'm enjoying you as you are, when you are, where you are. It's amazing. Photo by Olivia Gatti Instagram :: Website

A year ago, we were concerned with how little you interacted with your peers. And to be fair, you were in a mixed-age classroom, where the older kids seemed way wiser and more together than most four and five year olds. And you were just three. And you had fallen into the fog. You were happy, but not interested in anyone beyond your family. I was sure it was the end of the world. I was sure you would never have a friend or play like a "typical" kid. Fear consumed me. I let it. And I did everything I could to hide the fear from everyone, especially you. Fast forward to today, and you are transformed. Are you what the charts and doctors say you should be? What the hell do I care. We work on it all, but I don't feel the fear, and you still are as happy as can be AND you have friends. Time. Milestones. Expectations. I'm learning to let these constraints all go. I'm enjoying you as you are, when you are, where you are. It's amazing.

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Instagram :: Website


the biggest shocker was the fact that mama didn't shed a single tear. perhaps this is because there on that booth sat my living and breathing proof that the hair would grow back. and at a freakish speed. is having "mirror children" with whom i get to do "do overs" the same as a mother's wisdom? probably not. but gliding through a big moment without a big reaction still felt rather grown up of me. maybe that is what the six of us are doing here. we are all growing up together. Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

the biggest shocker was the fact that mama didn't shed a single tear. perhaps this is because there on that booth sat my living and breathing proof that the hair would grow back. and at a freakish speed. is having "mirror children" with whom i get to do "do overs" the same as a mother's wisdom? probably not. but gliding through a big moment without a big reaction still felt rather grown up of me. maybe that is what the six of us are doing here. we are all growing up together.

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

Blog :: Facebook

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

You love the kitties so much. SO much. And you think you are one, too. From what I know about kitties, though, they are quiet and stealthy and sleepy and calm(ish). You are way more like a kitty-preschooler hybrid, who stomps and runs and growls her purrs. Photo by Olivia Gatti Instagram :: Website

You love the kitties so much. SO much. And you think you are one, too. From what I know about kitties, though, they are quiet and stealthy and sleepy and calm(ish). You are way more like a kitty-preschooler hybrid, who stomps and runs and growls her purrs.

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Instagram :: Website


"catch and release" time is running out. i can no longer hold you whenever i need to. you are flying through these days just like the rest of them. i have to catch you in my arms and press you to my heart. but only for a moment. and then you give me no choice but to release you. Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

"catch and release"

time is running out. i can no longer hold you whenever i need to. you are flying through these days just like the rest of them. i have to catch you in my arms and press you to my heart. but only for a moment. and then you give me no choice but to release you.

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

Blog :: Facebook

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

Not many kids get to have the first New York City experience like you and your sisters had. We did nothing touristy, but everything real, if not a bit above and beyond my typical previous city life. We lived the high life, partied on roof tops, basked in the unseasonably warm October sun on terraced balconies. We ran in party dresses through midtown at rush hour. We took over restaurants in the Meatpacking and asked every cab and Uber driver what their favorite Halloween candy was. We sat in giant picture windows and watched our street below become a flower and plant market everyday. We finagled our way into wholesale jewelry stores and bought more glittery baubles than should be allowed. And we danced.  Photo by Olivia Gatti Instagram :: Website

Not many kids get to have the first New York City experience like you and your sisters had. We did nothing touristy, but everything real, if not a bit above and beyond my typical previous city life. We lived the high life, partied on roof tops, basked in the unseasonably warm October sun on terraced balconies. We ran in party dresses through midtown at rush hour. We took over restaurants in the Meatpacking and asked every cab and Uber driver what their favorite Halloween candy was. We sat in giant picture windows and watched our street below become a flower and plant market everyday. We finagled our way into wholesale jewelry stores and bought more glittery baubles than should be allowed. And we danced. 

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Instagram :: Website


"adorning the creek house" you and i found some lovely lace curtains at the antique store today.  i wondered if they were going to provide enough privacy in that bedroom.  i said, "stand in front of the window.   i am going outside to look in and see if i can see you through the lace." Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

"adorning the creek house"

you and i found some lovely lace curtains at the antique store today.  i wondered if they were going to provide enough privacy in that bedroom.  i said, "stand in front of the window.   i am going outside to look in and see if i can see you through the lace."

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

Blog :: Facebook

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September | 2017

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September | 2017

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

Now you are four. Photo by Olivia Gatti Instagram :: Website

Now you are four.

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Instagram :: Website

Now you are four. Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

Now you are four.

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

Blog :: Facebook

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

Lost in a dream. You and I. I'm getting closer to you, I can feel it. You have more to say now and even started asking questions that make sense in the moment. We practice human speech everyday, everywhere. It is happening. I really can feel it. But just as big and bright as this can feel, I also feel the opposite. I feel overwhelmed and scared for you. You can't relay your day or tell us if you are hurt and how. You disappear from us and don't meet our eyes. You speak nonsense to us and I feel the breath leave my body. I don't know how to express how scary this is. How beautiful this is. How much I love you. At least we are lost in this together. Photo by Olivia Gatti Instagram :: Website

Lost in a dream. You and I. I'm getting closer to you, I can feel it. You have more to say now and even started asking questions that make sense in the moment. We practice human speech everyday, everywhere. It is happening. I really can feel it. But just as big and bright as this can feel, I also feel the opposite. I feel overwhelmed and scared for you. You can't relay your day or tell us if you are hurt and how. You disappear from us and don't meet our eyes. You speak nonsense to us and I feel the breath leave my body. I don't know how to express how scary this is. How beautiful this is. How much I love you. At least we are lost in this together.

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Instagram :: Website


i grew up with a mother who could sew.  not only could she sew but she did it very well.  she sewed all of our halloween costumes.  she sewed our curtains.  she sewed to mend things.  she sewed for fun. i never once asked her to teach me to sew because it did not look like fun to me.  in fact, other than threading a needle, i didn’t know the first thing about using a sewing machine when i took a home ec class in junior high.  the teacher knew my mom.  they probably had fun sewing together before.  so she assumed that i would show my classmates a thing or two about sewing.  boy was she wrong.  i cried my way through the sewing of that ugly blue sweatshirt.  and then i cried some more as i sewed that autograph pillow.  i hated every single minute of sewing and couldn’t wait for the class to move on to the cooking section.  you learned early on that your weren’t going to grow up with a mother who could sew.  therefore, you gave up asking me to teach you.  instead, you figured it out on your own.  now you find whatever you can get your hands on and sew with it.  today it was leftover vinyl from the time that daddy recovered the dining room chairs.  the vinyl was so tough.  but that didn’t stop you.  you used scissors to make a row of tiny holes.  you couldn’t find any thread.  but that didn’t stop you.  you managed to thread a needle with yarn.  and there you sat with your good arm sprained sewing me a new purse.  Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

i grew up with a mother who could sew.  not only could she sew but she did it very well.  she sewed all of our halloween costumes.  she sewed our curtains.  she sewed to mend things.  she sewed for fun. i never once asked her to teach me to sew because it did not look like fun to me.  in fact, other than threading a needle, i didn’t know the first thing about using a sewing machine when i took a home ec class in junior high.  the teacher knew my mom.  they probably had fun sewing together before.  so she assumed that i would show my classmates a thing or two about sewing.  boy was she wrong.  i cried my way through the sewing of that ugly blue sweatshirt.  and then i cried some more as i sewed that autograph pillow.  i hated every single minute of sewing and couldn’t wait for the class to move on to the cooking section.  you learned early on that your weren’t going to grow up with a mother who could sew.  therefore, you gave up asking me to teach you.  instead, you figured it out on your own.  now you find whatever you can get your hands on and sew with it.  today it was leftover vinyl from the time that daddy recovered the dining room chairs.  the vinyl was so tough.  but that didn’t stop you.  you used scissors to make a row of tiny holes.  you couldn’t find any thread.  but that didn’t stop you.  you managed to thread a needle with yarn.  and there you sat with your good arm sprained sewing me a new purse. 

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

I married a man who is a doer. He can't sit still. He's incredibly active. And he takes this and gives it so whole-heartedly and creatively to our children. Current project: turning our yard into a mountain bike park. I support this. This is for him. This is for them. This is a shared experience I love to witness. Photo by Olivia Gatti Instagram :: Website

I married a man who is a doer. He can't sit still. He's incredibly active. And he takes this and gives it so whole-heartedly and creatively to our children. Current project: turning our yard into a mountain bike park. I support this. This is for him. This is for them. This is a shared experience I love to witness.

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Instagram :: Website


the safety valve.  that is what we should call daddy.  i fear that i might cause you to feel even more pressure on top of all that you already feel all day trying to sit still and follow the rules in kindergarten.  i have been so distracted with work over the past month that i haven't been there for you like you need me to be.  and now with my sister's wedding in days, i feel like i am swimming in a sea of stress.  today i felt like i might go under.  luckily for me and equally so for you, your daddy is an excellent swimmer.  he used to be a lifeguard, remember?  of course you remember.  the lifeguarding days contain some of your favorite daddy stories.   i love seeing how proud you are when he tells you about those days from his past.  in your eyes, daddy was cooler than a superhero.  maybe not quite as cool as a firefighter but still pretty awesome.  i didn't know daddy back in those days.   i try to imagine him before you, before me.  my brain struggles a bit to paint those pictures.  maybe this is because i have so many pictures of daddy the way he is now and the pictures all show me that daddy still is way cooler than a superhero.   he might not be saving drowning people in the ocean.  but he is keeping his family afloat day after day.  he is there for you when you need to release all that pressure that has been building inside your little body.  and is there for me pulling me back to shore when my arms are too tired to swim anymore. Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

the safety valve.  that is what we should call daddy.  i fear that i might cause you to feel even more pressure on top of all that you already feel all day trying to sit still and follow the rules in kindergarten.  i have been so distracted with work over the past month that i haven't been there for you like you need me to be.  and now with my sister's wedding in days, i feel like i am swimming in a sea of stress.  today i felt like i might go under.  luckily for me and equally so for you, your daddy is an excellent swimmer.  he used to be a lifeguard, remember?  of course you remember.  the lifeguarding days contain some of your favorite daddy stories.   i love seeing how proud you are when he tells you about those days from his past.  in your eyes, daddy was cooler than a superhero.  maybe not quite as cool as a firefighter but still pretty awesome.  i didn't know daddy back in those days.   i try to imagine him before you, before me.  my brain struggles a bit to paint those pictures.  maybe this is because i have so many pictures of daddy the way he is now and the pictures all show me that daddy still is way cooler than a superhero.   he might not be saving drowning people in the ocean.  but he is keeping his family afloat day after day.  he is there for you when you need to release all that pressure that has been building inside your little body.  and is there for me pulling me back to shore when my arms are too tired to swim anymore.

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

You've been asking us to hold you a lot lately. Asking me, especially. Hold you at the bus stop. Hold you in the kitchen. Hold you at the park. Hold you on the stairs. And I love it, but you are a big kid. No denying that. You are big and solid and my body is terribly weak and often tired. So I hold you, but not for very long. I wonder if you can sense you are entering big-kid territory, and need the extra comfort? Or now I leave for work in the mornings and our routine around the house is very different and maybe you are missing me? Maybe there is no real reason at all, except who doesn't like to be held from time to time? If daddy is around, I pass you off, and feel a pang of guilt and a little sadness that I can't hold you for very long. But then, I catch this face, and that smile, and I know his arms are just as good as mine. His love is just as real. And you are held, in our arms and in our hearts and in that space we create where we all can go back to fitting on someone's hip, in someone's arm, on someone's shoulder.  Photo by Olivia Gatti Instagram :: Website

You've been asking us to hold you a lot lately. Asking me, especially. Hold you at the bus stop. Hold you in the kitchen. Hold you at the park. Hold you on the stairs. And I love it, but you are a big kid. No denying that. You are big and solid and my body is terribly weak and often tired. So I hold you, but not for very long. I wonder if you can sense you are entering big-kid territory, and need the extra comfort? Or now I leave for work in the mornings and our routine around the house is very different and maybe you are missing me? Maybe there is no real reason at all, except who doesn't like to be held from time to time? If daddy is around, I pass you off, and feel a pang of guilt and a little sadness that I can't hold you for very long. But then, I catch this face, and that smile, and I know his arms are just as good as mine. His love is just as real. And you are held, in our arms and in our hearts and in that space we create where we all can go back to fitting on someone's hip, in someone's arm, on someone's shoulder. 

Photo by Olivia Gatti

Instagram :: Website


 i was just about to turn at the corner.  that corner that leads us out of our neighborhood.  the one that takes us to the busy streets that we must travel on to get you to school.  some mornings are harder than others for me to make this drive.  it isn't a long one.  just an emotional one.  i always wondered if i sent your siblings off into the world too quickly.  you have wanted it for what seems like forever though.  it is just me that is doing the feet dragging.  and there is always something that i can't live without preserving.  so instead of turning at the corner, i do a u-turn.  back home we go so i can retrieve my camera.  so i can make sure to always remember these bittersweet morning drives.  "but we'll be late" you say.  you think i am crazy.  the truth is my love, i am crazy.  crazy in love with you.  Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

 i was just about to turn at the corner.  that corner that leads us out of our neighborhood.  the one that takes us to the busy streets that we must travel on to get you to school.  some mornings are harder than others for me to make this drive.  it isn't a long one.  just an emotional one.  i always wondered if i sent your siblings off into the world too quickly.  you have wanted it for what seems like forever though.  it is just me that is doing the feet dragging.  and there is always something that i can't live without preserving.  so instead of turning at the corner, i do a u-turn.  back home we go so i can retrieve my camera.  so i can make sure to always remember these bittersweet morning drives.  "but we'll be late" you say.  you think i am crazy.  the truth is my love, i am crazy.  crazy in love with you. 

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

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August | 2017

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August | 2017

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July | 2017

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July | 2017

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A Normal Day

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A Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

― Mary Jean Irion

 Grace has escaped me. It's beginning to show in the things I do, my daily life. For two years I have felt it slipping, and wasn't even sure what to call it then. In fact, the closer I came to defining my grace, the more I could see it was growing thinner and what passed as grace was an exhausting act of kindness and patience with no deep roots. I've started and stopped so many times now, to get better, to get rooted, to give myself the care that grace needs to grow again. I have the maps. I have the plans, the chants, the songs, the hope, the desire, the fear. I read the books, the cards, the skies. And when it feels the messiest, and usually is the messiest, it is with these girls who first gave me the glimpse of grace that I know I'm going to make it. We ran to the ocean, in less than ten minutes we left the house behind and all our activities paused mid-play, and we ran into the water and it was so cold it was shocking. It was the perfect kick in the ass to get my head on straight and hold onto my grace and get it to grow again. Photo by Olivia Gatti Facebook :: Website

 Grace has escaped me. It's beginning to show in the things I do, my daily life. For two years I have felt it slipping, and wasn't even sure what to call it then. In fact, the closer I came to defining my grace, the more I could see it was growing thinner and what passed as grace was an exhausting act of kindness and patience with no deep roots. I've started and stopped so many times now, to get better, to get rooted, to give myself the care that grace needs to grow again. I have the maps. I have the plans, the chants, the songs, the hope, the desire, the fear. I read the books, the cards, the skies. And when it feels the messiest, and usually is the messiest, it is with these girls who first gave me the glimpse of grace that I know I'm going to make it. We ran to the ocean, in less than ten minutes we left the house behind and all our activities paused mid-play, and we ran into the water and it was so cold it was shocking. It was the perfect kick in the ass to get my head on straight and hold onto my grace and get it to grow again.

Photo by Olivia Gatti

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today i did things that i once did often.  they felt good to revisit.  really they felt better than good.  they felt just right.  they fit me.  it’s like pulling on a pair of old, comfy jeans for the first time after many months of not wearing them.  you noticed how well they fit too. i couldn’t even remember how long it had been since i took you to the library.  but today it was just you, me, and the baby so i made it happen. normally when your older siblings are in tow, i am too weighed down with anxiety to attempt this type of outing.  but today was different.  we checked out several books and on the way home the baby fell asleep in the car.  while he slept, you and i read books together in the front yard.  the sun was shining on the tops of our heads but it didn’t feel too hot.  instead it felt just right.  Photo by Heather Robinson Photography Blog :: Facebook

today i did things that i once did often.  they felt good to revisit.  really they felt better than good.  they felt just right.  they fit me.  it’s like pulling on a pair of old, comfy jeans for the first time after many months of not wearing them.  you noticed how well they fit too. i couldn’t even remember how long it had been since i took you to the library.  but today it was just you, me, and the baby so i made it happen. normally when your older siblings are in tow, i am too weighed down with anxiety to attempt this type of outing.  but today was different.  we checked out several books and on the way home the baby fell asleep in the car.  while he slept, you and i read books together in the front yard.  the sun was shining on the tops of our heads but it didn’t feel too hot.  instead it felt just right. 

Photo by Heather Robinson Photography

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June | 2017

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June | 2017

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