SOOC

A while ago, I started a weekly challenge with a group of photographers. It proved difficult at times to relate in words what you can capture in pictures. This was one of those times.

It stumped me.  In the interest of full disclosure, I had to look it up.  I'm not a photographer and had never heard the term SOOC.  For those of you like me, SOOC means "straight out of the camera" and is a term used for photos that have not been enhanced or manipulated in any way - they look just as they did in the moment. (If I'm the only one who didn't know that, well...keep that to yourself.)

Today I had some calls to make for work.  I sat on the floor with my computer while Brynna colored and played with stickers next to me.  Suddenly, just as I hung up the phone making an appointment to show a house, I got a blow to the back.  I've never used the Photo Booth feature on my Mac, but I quickly clicked it on.  Had the homeowner been able to see through my computer, this is what he would have seen...

The perfect snapshot of us - who we are when no one is looking.  I'm guessing that's what is so special about SOOC in the photo world - when you are able to capture an image that needs no tweaking but is the exact representation of what you saw.  In my world, it means you are comfortable in your own skin.  You are content with who and where you are.  Some realtors make showing appointments from the comfort of an office with a Starbucks in their hand.  I do so on the floor while simultaneously coloring Minnie Mouse with my free hand.

So "straight out of the camera," this is what life looks like when you're working...and a mom.

Water

After what feels like 3 steady months of rain in DC, I am ready to say that I never care to see a drop of water again.  But even I have to admit there’s so much more to water than rain…

Water holds memories

Water is an ocean that separates my sister from me.

Water is the lake – the first place my family gathers when we’re all together.

Water is pool parties – whether the pool is in-ground, kiddie or a puddle just right for splashing.

Water holds smiles

Water floods my bathroom sink when a certain 3 ft. blonde person tries to wash her hands.

Water cleans play doh off my kitchen cabinets.

Water begs for muddy rain boots and a polka-dotted rain jacket (in Brynna’s opinion).

Water longs for solitude, a soft blanket and a good book (in my opinion).

Water holds my future

Water is the analogy Jesus used to show the world how much He loves me. 

Water is where I went under an imperfect person completely helpless to save myself.

Water is where I emerged at peace, forgiven and free.

People think they make vessels to hold water.  Water holds far more than we could build a vessel to hold.

Rainbow Brite

Rainbow Brite.  I know some people think of rain and promises when they think of rainbows.  I think of Rainbow Brite.  She was my favorite.  When I was little, I had a couple of Barbie dolls and a few My Little Ponies.  But Rainbow Brite was my girl.  We went everywhere together.  I even had a Rainbow Brite sleeping bag.  When you’re 6, that’s the defining factor in what’s most important to you – who’s on your sleeping bag.

There has been much discussion lately about where my little Brynna gets her spunk.  David is convinced she’s just like me.  My parents contend that I was not as strong-willed as my baby girl.  Rainbow Brite got me to thinking, though.  There are parts of us that are a product of our environment and external influences.  And then there are the things you don’t choose, but are, rather an outward expression of who you are at your core.  It may seem like an overly-simplistic comparison, but for me, that was Rainbow Brite.  I didn’t choose a princess.  I didn’t pick a fairy tale.  I had Rainbow Brite and Jem.  And we sat together and watched Punky Brewster. Before life taught me that at times, you are expected to conform, these chicks were the outward expression of my inner-spunk.

So I think I’ll stop suggesting otherwise and accept what I’ve grown to be immensely proud of: Brynna gets every bit of that spunk from me.  And it is my highest priority to teach her that no matter what anyone says, she never has to conform.  She can bring color to a colorless world, be “truly outrageous” and do it all with bandanas tied on her legs!*

*Please note: If you are confused by some of these references, you clearly weren’t a little girl in the 80’s and I’m sorry for that. 

Mother Earth

When I was young, the earth seemed so big.  My grandma’s house felt forever away.  The pictures I saw in books had no connection to my real life.  Over time, perspective helped me realize that I grew up less than an hour from my grandparents’ house (not exactly a distance of “forever”).  And life has taught me so much more than those pictures in books ever could have.

Yesterday, I went to Panera to work.  Suddenly my computer screen showed I was receiving a call via Skype so I put my headphones in and answered.  While the rest of the restaurant enjoyed their morning coffee, I chatted with my friend Mikele.  That wouldn’t be so noteworthy except that Mikele is halfway around the world right now.  She called me from Europe.

When I got married, I had never been out of the continental US.  I remember sitting in awe on my honeymoon, staring at the Caribbean.  I had never seen the ocean before then.  A few months ago, I flew over the ocean that I now live a few hours from.

A year ago, I couldn’t have found Malaysia on a map.  In February I spent two weeks there – hearing the language, tasting the food and experiencing the people.

I know so much more now because I’ve experienced more.  But my perspective is limited to those experiences.  It all makes me think about Brynna.  Kids know about their parents what we choose to let them experience.  If I don’t share where I’ve been, what I’ve come through and who it’s made me, Brynna won’t have a full understanding of her mom.  If I only give her a painted picture instead of the real me, she will merely have a two-dimensional portrait – like pictures in a book.  Just as I have a new understanding and love of Mother Earth as I learn more about who she is, I pray my relationship with Brynna is the same.  She will know that I can relate, I love her unconditionally and I will always be here.  She will know that because I will let her experience who I am and who she is. 

A week of Fridays

The past few weeks have been hard.  David has traveled more since we moved to DC than he has his entire career.  He’s been out of town at least half the weeks we’ve lived here.  Normally, I relish time to draw away on my own, but when you have a two-year-old, the minutes in the day when you are alone are few and far between.  He has been gone 8 days now and the day after he left, I developed a head cold.  (Doesn’t that always happen?) All that to say, I’ve been one tired girl.  Dishes have gone undone, laundry has piled up and my blog almost forgot my name it’s been so long since I paid it attention.

Then came Friday.  After a busy week of real estate and trying to keep up with my little energizer bunny on my own, I was exhausted.  I missed David; I longed for time with my girlfriends; I wanted to be at home where my sister is visiting my parents; I needed a break.  Brynna loves the park so after a few errands Friday morning, we headed out in search of a place to play.  Normally, taking Brynna to the park is anything but relaxing.  I’m not sure who those moms are that sit on a bench reading while their perfect kids entertain themselves, but my park experiences are the complete opposite.  By the time I’ve pushed the swing, caught my flying child as she jumps from the top of the jungle gym, spun the merry-go-round and pushed the swing some more, I’m ready for a nap about the time she’s ready for Round 2.  This Friday was different, though.  Brynna found a couple kids to run around with and after an initial push on the swing, let me sit and watch.  I didn’t have a book to read, but I wasn’t going to push my luck.  Staring blankly into space was fine by me.  When it was time to go, I told BG she could slide two more times then we had to leave.  When she came running over after the second slide, I kissed her I was so proud.  We headed home, had lunch and she laid down for a nap.  Still not 100% after being sick, I did the same.  That evening, Brynna and I had a picnic in the basement (yes, we sat on top of the coffee table) while we watched Cars.  Contrary to the norm, after Brynna was in bed, I didn’t feel like I’d just run a marathon.  There was a peace I needed desperately and for which I was so grateful.

Friday was a good day.  I could handle a whole week of that kind of Friday.