In the past few weeks, I’ve spent quite a bit of time paying attention to our mornings:  what we do, how we feel, and (most importantly!) what’s worth photographing.  I’ve noticed that some mornings get off to a smashing start and others seem to limp along on the wrong foot.

Truthfully, some days are just harder than others.  I may be more tired than usual.  My emotions may be closer to the surface.  Perhaps I’m quicker to raise my voice to get my point across.  I try really hard to match the ideal that I hold in my head of a patient mom, supportive partner, kick-ass friend or on-the-ball business owner.  Other days I don’t try very hard at all because for one reason or many reasons, I don’t have it in me to give.  On the days that I fall short I can be hard on myself.  In the past I’d lie awake in bed feeling like an ass or blubber in Scott’s ear about all the ways I’d fucked up that day.

As I get older I’m realizing that beating myself up feels shitty, and guess what?  I don’t like feeling shitty.  Better yet, I don’t deserve to feel shitty.  So today I take solace in the fact that each morning means a fresh start, and a new day to give being Carmen the Awesome another shot.