It’s that time of year again. School starts next week. The pool is closing. CVS and Michaels are pushing Halloween decorations and candy. Already. Annabelle told me, “Mom, we don’t have any Halloween stuff! We need to buy some now!” Which makes me wonder, do the stores have really effective marketing or is my little girl picking up on her mother’s shopping habits? I really hope it isn’t the latter.
Meanwhile, I’m turning into one of those annoying ballet moms. Annabelle has been taking ballet since she was 18 months old; we started with a mommy and me class and she’s just kept going (on an off) ever since. Since this November/December marks 2 years of ballet, and because Annabelle is psyched to go to ballet every week, following her teacher’s every move (she’s a little bit of the teacher’s pet), I decided to enroll her in a ballet curriculum program. The thing is, and this is why I call myself “annoying”, I made sure I knew who the teacher was (I know almost all of them) and I talked to just about every other parent who sends their kid to the school about which teachers they liked. My reasoning? Curriculum ballet is expensive. So expensive, in fact, that I know that it is going to hurt, should my little ballerina decide that dance just isn’t her thing. And as much as I tell myself and my girlfriends that if/when Annabelle decides she doesn’t like her dance class that I’ll be okay with it, I know I will feel some sadness: I love the expression on her face as she carefully demi-plies or runs across the room to grand jete. I love watching her twirl around in her leotard or when the teacher dresses her up in a tutu or little bo peep costume. It will be a sad day, for me, when this chapter of my daughter’s life ends. The thing is, I don’t want to be one of those annoying ballet moms. I don’t want to live vicariously through my daughter. I want my daughter to decide what makes her happy and go for it.
As for Levi, he is still happy enough to accompany Annabelle and me to whatever her schedule calls for. I did attempt swim lessons for him, and discovered within five minutes that Annabelle isn’t accustomed to being a sitting duck. She stood next to the pool clapping for her brother and singing with the swim instructor, which was all very sweet, but then she wanted to jump in the pool and join the class (which makes sense; it was a fun class), and when she couldn’t do that, she tried to engage the teacher in conversation. Even though I did bring toys and activities for her, I decided it made more sense for Annabelle to go on playdates for the remaining lessons. In fact, for the fall, I am debating whether or not to sign my little guy up for a mommy and me activity while Annabelle is at her 2 day preschool program. On the one hand, he’d have a chance to meet other babies (he mostly plays with older kids in our neighborhood, including my daughters’ friends who dote on him), but on the other hand, he’s a pretty social kid as it is. He has no problem crawling over to other kids, flashing a smile and playing. He’s such an easy going kid . . . my husband and I have no idea who he gets this from.
It also happens to be that time of year (or life) when everyone seems to be getting married. Last week, we traveled up to New York to attend a wedding for my husband’s best friend (photos can be viewed here). Meanwhile, my soon to be step-sister got married in New Hampshire to her long time college beau. Then, it two weeks, we’re traveling north, again, to attend the wedding of my husband’s other best friend. I can’t wait. It seems that weddings are a chance for my husband and me to be just that: husband and wife. We get to go out . . . just us. We drink. We dance. We laugh. We talk. It’s great. Oh, and I get to rock and roll in a formal dress and heals. For some reason, I don’t know what I’m going through, I can’t get enough of animal prints. For the last wedding, I wore leopard print heals. For the next wedding, I’m wearing zebra print. This must be some sort of, “Oh my goodness, I’m a mom who wears jeans and tee shirts everyday. I must make the most of every opportunity to look sexy.” And as much as I say that it feels good to dress up for my husband, I have to admit, it feels great to dress up for myself. It’s like, okay, I wear spit-up and poop on my wardrobe Monday through Friday, but on this rare occasion, I’m poop free and I’m wearing Calvin Klein.
Last, as much as “it is that time of year” for my kids and everyone else’s, I feel like it is that time of my life when I want to throw my passion and lust for life towards something that is mine, all mine, and that can be a marketable skill when the day comes that my children are grown and don’t need their stay-at-home mom, as much. And that something is photography. Admittedly, I do have 2 degrees in English and I did enjoy teaching community college. The thing is, lately, all I want to do is take photos. I want to pour over Vogue magazine and search for posing ideas and lighting effects; I read book after book about portraiture and working with children. I spend hours processing my photos and working through my portfolio. I want this, so badly. I want this for me. I want this for my daughter and my son and my husband too. I want for my family and for me too, to see me as something more than just the crazy lady who makes meals, fixes boo boos, and cleans the toilet. Not that I don’t think that the mom work I do is valuable. It is. And it’s the reason I wanted to be a stay at home mom. But, and this is a big one, I want to fulfill this other ache to be Jessica, to be the smart, creative, professional person that I once was and wanted to be. And I think that that is okay.
What I don’t know and am trying to work out is how to build this other passion into a business. I am trying to figure out how to reach people who need photos. Everywhere I turn, there are beautiful children, families, couples . . . wherever there are people, there are portraits just waiting to happen.
In the meantime, I will do what the great Annie Liebovitz says to do. In her biography, she says something along the lines of, when you are starting out as a photographer to photograph your family, the people who are close to you. And since this is where I am, that is what I’ll do.
Levi, crawling up the steps through our front garden.
My girlfriend’s beautiful daughter, who is just one month younger than Levi.
And Levi, giving his friend a ride, on his scooter.
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