Reminders...
... of my Allie's obsession with playing school. I know exactly what she is learning in kindergarten based on the dry erase board in the play room. I know she will be a passionate, kind, articulate and amazing teacher some day.
...of the hundreds of toys that litter my floor and in the playroom every day. One day they will be an anonymous tote with the other bright plastic things, blocks, and legos forgotten about until I can take them out, dust them off and give them to my daughter's children to play with.
....Allie loves a crowd but would rather play alone if she gets to do what she wants to do.
...of why strawberry, tomato, apple soup with chili powder and salt will always taste so good.
....lifestyle photography. My desire to become an amazing photographer on my own creative journey and to fill my walls with pictures of what we all once were.
...of my compulsive clothes changer, Juliette. She will put on a new outfit no less then 5 times per day. Watching her endless and exhausting wiggles and struggles to get out of tight sleeves and ill fitting pants just to do it all over again...and again. A reminder of what her floor looks like every day.
...of our kitchen table. Always strewn with books, papers, markers and crumbs. The table is now outfitted with a red tablecloth covering our "love" marks of paint, scuffs, scratches and chips. This is Allie's work although all the girls love to color and draw.
...of the loveys that are forever waiting for us. This is Isabelle's "Ballet kitty" a replacement for the once treasured "pink kitty" that she gave away in pursuit of breaking a thumb sucking habit when she was 5.
...of babies that need some "docta". Juliette would be happiest playing with a box of band-aids and a doctor's kit.
....of special moments like "Daddy donut day".
This is a quote from photographer Stephanie Beaty...
“These still life images serve as a daily reminder that my days are awash in chaos, whimsy, laughter and laundry (sometimes all at once). They capture toys and spills and puddles and piles. Sentimental, solitary moments of childhood ephemera. A gentle prodding to live in the now and stop looking toward the “then.” And though sometimes I pray for clean and quiet and still, I know all too well it will come. And I will yearn for tiny shrieks of laughter in my bedroom. For toys and loveys strewn about. For signs of a daily life well lived. For traces of my babies who once were. For reminders that Kids Were Here–and they were life and light and love.”
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