So me. About ME. My about me link has sat vacant for over a year now. I have clicked on that link and tried to write about me. And I am left tapping the keyboard. What do people REALLY want to know?
I am deathly afraid of sounding cliche. Or sappy.
So do people REALLY want to know who I am? Do you want to know that my one year old just emptied the trash can into the toilet? Or that that my son dumped an entire bag of pretzels in my car last week and I still haven’t cleaned it up? Or how about that I pulled the cleanest pair of dirty pants from my three year old’s hamper this morning. hmm…probably not.
I feel like I have to sell myself in my about me. And it has to be grand and spectacular. I have to tell you how great I am at catching that “moment”. And how I have this undying love affair with my camera. When it’s not about that. Really it’s not. I mean I love my camera but really I am in love with the people I photograph. When I was a senior in high school I had a girl tell me I was “nosy”. Well you know what, I am. I want to be all up on your business with my camera. Like one of my favorite photographers Erika Ray says, “Lifestyle photography is like classy reality tv.” I think she’s right.
So again I am left tapping the keyboard. What do people want to know?
During the month of October, the month where we celebrate women of all ages and backgrounds, we’ve asked a few women to take a turn on the blog to give you a different point of view. And today our guest poster is talking about sex on her terms.
“Just remember, you’re a lady ; )” says the guy I had recently seen. Gross emoticons aside, what is that supposed to even mean? As it turns out, it meant, “Just remember, you’re a lady, and we slept together that one time, so please please don’t shatter this weird thing I have where I think that sex is indicative of a relationship because only non-ladies would do otherwise- wait, you really don’t want to date me?”
Yeah, no, no I do not. I like sex. I am also not extremely interested in a strictly monogamous relationship – and I’m very upfront about that with the people I choose to sleep with. At times, it’s kind of tiring not having that personal choice taken at face value. And that’s the most common reaction. I haven’t had to deal much with the inevitable list of names: slut, whore, bitch – take your pick, and deal with your hang-ups without me, please. But as with that guy, it just doesn’t register to some people that, as a lady, I don’t feel compelled to have sex within a relationship.
This decision suits me well. I’ve developed close relationships with people that were once just sex friends (“friends with benefits” – don’t even), gotten closer to existing friends, and casually seen people in between. Always responsible, never involved with someone who’s not on board with a non-monogamous partner, it’s why I’m honest with people about my choices. It’s something I’m perfectly willing to talk about and frankly, and something that needs to be talked about. There’s some aspect of surprise that I’m a lady and talking so candidly about my sex life, but in that kind of relationship, honesty is more helpful than judgment.
And if you’re going to judge my lady-self for enjoying sex how I want to, I don’t want to be having sex with you anyway.
Yep I’m a city girl. Seriously. If I even fantasize living in the suburbs my chest get all tight and I feel panicky.
I attribute this to growing up in the suburbs. The very deep depths of the suburbs. We were 15 minutes from a store.
And on a hot day you could smell cow poop from the farms.
I love being able to walk places for dinner or being able to walk to the coffee shop to feed my coffee addiction.
Music has always been a part of us. Before kids, when it was just me and Brant, we went to shows every weekend. The Other Paper sat on our coffee table with the line up of who we were going to see. My memories are walking out of Oldfield’s holding hands giggling and then heading to Taco Bell. And when we weren’t going to shows Brant was playing music in our house. There were late night jams on our backporch with friends or Brant was out playing with his band.
And then came kids. And going to shows every weekend came to a screeching hault. And I miss that part of us. We will see a festival pop up and throw down the line up exclaiming we are “old”!! We don’t know any of these bands anymore. And when Brant goes out to play I can’t find a babysitter or forget to.
But then there are new memories made. The first time we brought our daughter home. Brant played to her as she laid in our bed. Watching our kids dance on the end of the guitar as he played before they could even walk. They will grow up with music in their home. When Brant brings out his guitar Falon comes running with her tutu. She points out when she hears a banjo on the radio.
So the shows aren’t what they used to be. But I am enjoying these even more.
I was recently asked by my cousin to take engagement pictures of her and her boyfriend. Although I had never taken pictures of adults I didn’t hesitate in saying yes, she is my family so how hard would it be. Well….let me start out by saying the day it came, I started sweating. I had done my homework and of trying to get inspired by looking at pictures of pretty, happy people smiling and showing lots of pda.
I drove with them to their chosen location and as we arrived I really started to panic. I usually like to check out the place before I shoot somewhere and figure out where I want to spend most of my time. We walked around and I had them sit there and as I raised my arms to start taking pictures I realized I was shaking. My camera felt foreign and two people were waiting for me to tell them what to do. Uh…why don’t you…put your head on his shoulder…yea uh…and put your arm there..and put your leg on his , wait actually don’t do that. My mouth was dry and my voice was shaking. I think about poses I had seen and how they were draped all over each other. Let’s keep walking I say.
I seriously wanted to book it into the woods. I was panicking-had I lost it all? Why did this camera feel so weird in my hands?
So a little background, usually I am a very kid centric person. Kids are my thing-I love chasing them around and capturing them and only them. Adults, not so much. Unless they are with their children of course.
So I started out getting pictures like these which makes me think of a picture you get in a frame. My eyes literally bulged out of my head when I saw this picture. Which is fine and great for the grandparents but soo not me.
So here is my question-do you think you have to specialize in something? Has anyone had an experience like this? I look at websites and people have categories a mile long-weddings and babies and maternity and commercial. I now have SUCH an appreciation for people that can photograph couples. They make is look so easy!
I did end up finding my groove and this one was one of my favorites..
It started out as a love affair really. I was pregnant with Falon when I saw my first “big bootie bottom”. You know the kids that have the bottom that is twice the size of them. And when they would walk it would move from side to side. But then I forgot about them and when she was around 4 months I really fell in love. I walked into the natural baby store here and they were all lined up on the walls in amazing colors. Periwinkle and sage!! Oh and I had to have the royal blue. I was hooked.
I found my self on online forums and talking about them and trying to get that pattern that was so hard to get.
Eventually the cuteness slowly wore off and they just became diapers. And even better underwear replaced them and into a bin in the basement they went.
With Grey, cloth diapering became work. I have less time to marvel over their cuteness and lugging them up and down the stairs to be washed is a drag. I have a hard enough time washing our clothes let alone diapers.
Recently I discovered I did indeed forget to spray out the diaper he pooped in 3 days ago. But these babies aren’t cheap so I soaked it in the spray bin and stuck the bin in the bathtub. And forgot about it until bath-time, when Grey was covered in his dinner and he desperately needed a bath.
And the smell. The one where you know your kid peed without even checking her diaper. Then comes the diaper pail that you can smell at night making it’s way into your bedroom from the bathroom.
So I am past the justifying they are cute and they are saving the earth. Once I heard if you are having relationship trouble you should remember what it was like when you were first together, the feelings of excitement and happiness. I tried that. And I have a big bootie bottom staring at me all day. Nothin.
Sometimes I think I am being punished. By the SAHM karma. When I was younger I would gasp at the SAHM mom’s that would have mother’s helpers and complain that they never had time to do anything. Well I am here to tell you we got all the time in the world but not enough of it. I would love to complete a task. I find myself doing things at warp speed. I can unload the dishwasher in seconds and air walk down the basement stairs to get the clothes from the dryer. I am usually done with my meal as my husband salting his potatoes.
I even let things slide. Sure you can unroll the toilet paper into the bathtub. And heck you can even eat it if that buys me some time. The baby often goes into his older sister’s room and plays which is great and last for at least 20 minutes.
You can crawl through the swept up breakfast as long as I can get you before you start eating it. And you can go outside on a misty rainy day and play in the mud so I can finish cleaning the kitchen.
Mornings are actually my favorite time of the day. I love bed head, I love coffee. I love how much time we actually spend in bed before getting up.
I love morning naps and how fresh and happy the baby is after one.
I am going to be a happy empty nester, but I do want to remember what it was like. Hearing the pants of my baby boy’s breath as he crawls all over me. The sound of three year old feet on hardwood floors as they make their way to my bedroom. The taste of baby cereal left on your lips making sure it’s not to hot. The sound of a cheerio crunching under your feet.
So how about you-anything you let slide so you can finish something..?