Kids Were Here

'If you must look back,do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is be present in the present... gratefully.' -Maya Angelou

Remember when you, Ella, had a tea party with Myla, on our California trip- & you just wanted to eat the playdough. 

Remember when you, Rylee, decided the art table lamp needed some flare.

Remember when I got that tub of beads, & you boys wanted to build things- I'd iron them & they'd fall apart. Beads ended up all over the floor, but you still loved doing the little shapes. & I, for some reason, kept pulling the bead bucket back out for you two.

Remember when we went to the 'Pumpkin Patch,' where you, Ry, had to find the biggest pumpkin. Then you drew on each one, so excited to have us carve them just right.

Remember when you, Covey, picked this little mini-stocking out for Bertie, our Elf on the Shelf. You had to put it up, days before Halloween (thus the scary lady in the background), just in case he decided to show up early.

Remember all the dinosaur window art you boys made with your Grandma, while I was in California. 

Remember the art table- where you boys usually make art & you, Ella, usually dump everything all over the floor, occasionally drawing all over your brother's art. 

Remember that afternoon you, Ella, found the draw full of tea & proceeded to pull it all out. Then you boys & I decided we should have some tea- you two were so excited, you had never had it before, & it was kids' tea! After the honey was added & the tea cooled, you took your firsts sips, then promptly declared you didn't like tea.

Remember that doll I got you, Ella, simply based on the fact it looked creepily real. You boys apparently thought so, too, when I found it hanging in the bead table.

Remember when you, Ella, got into the tea drawer again. Things got real quiet, real quick, & I went to check on you & Covey. There you two were, in the bathroom, dismembering tea bags into the toilet. Good thing you boys decided you didn't like tea. 

Remember that week you, Rylee, developed a deep love for drawing. While you already loved art, you literally started drawing every free moment you had. Then you made yourself a color chart, asking me how to spell certain colors. Other colors you wrote yourself- like bloo & yulo. 

Remember that little Christmas tree ornament Nanny gave you, Covey? We hung all our photos, but still needed two more. I glanced over & noticed you hung your tree on the nail awaiting its frame. 

Remember when you, Rylee, used the stool to get the sharpies down from the closet shelf. You said you needed them to draw with, so the picture would be permanent. As I was picking up the packs of paper, I noticed something else you wanted to be permanent. Thankfully dawn soap seems to work wonders on permanent markers. 

Remember that Halloween, when the weather was abnormally nice- we had school parades & parties; we went to both sets of Grandparents & some friends' houses; filled bags with candy; ran around in Spiderman, Wonder Woman & Vampire costumes; Ella peed in the potty, said no & started getting two new teeth; & you, Covey, drifted off to sleep saying 'this was a long day.' It was long, but filled with so much fun & excitement.

Kids Were Here

'If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is be present in the present... gratefully.' -Maya Angelou

Remember that time that you, Covey, said you needed a band-aid. I came to check on you & found this- lots of band-aid wrappers, lots of blush & those tiny footprints leading right back to you.

Remember when you, Ella, climbed all over everything in site & left those little handprints behind. 

Remember when we made a cake for your dad's birthday, & you, Ella, climbed up the chair your brother's left behind & got into one cake while I frosted the other.

Remember your Wonder-Woman costume, Ella, & the crown your brothers stuck behind the print on our bedroom wall.

Remember all those figurines all three of you kids liked to play with, & that one day I went for a water bottle, & found a little superhero.

Remember that one day I looked out at the wind & rain, & instead found one little monk upside-down, in another. I laughed, & knew it was you, Covey, & you laughed, & said 'that was me!'

Kids Were Here

When I was first asked to be a part of this project, I was admittedly very excited for the group of photographers I'd be working with. They're an amazingly talented group of women. I was also looking forward to documenting a new aspect of our lives, which I gave little (or no) attention to with the camera. Yet it is such a significant part of our everyday. These left-behind toys, the messes, the food, the strewn about clothes; somedays, I think they're staring me in the face, laughing. You vacuumed? ha! You just emptied the sink? Too bad! The entry way has been cleared of shoe piles & coat mountains? Nope, not today! But a funny thing happened to me, with this photo project. I am now pausing more & taking more deep breaths. Do I still enjoy all these messes? If I'm being honest, not so much, but incorporating my photography into the daily disasters has given me a new perspective- it's the perfect opportunity to really treasure what's happening now, & embrace it.

Remember when you, Rylee, started first grade, so full of excitement!

Remember when you wore your name tag that first day of school, Rylee? & then I found it stuck to your dresser that night.

Remember when you, Ella, loved to take your shoes off & run around barefoot. 

Remember when you three pushed each other around in the wagon, until you laughed hard enough, then filled it with toys. 

Remember when you, Rylee, drew hopscotch at the park 'just like the one at school!'

Remember when you, Covey, loved everything superheroes.

Remember our weekends in Pasagshak, making smores with oreos; & you, Ella, snuck some & licked out a bunch of frosting before dropping them in the sand.

Remember all your superheroes, you boys laid them out on the towel to dry off, after some outdoor battling. 

Remember when we made salmonberry jam, from all the berries we picked that Sunday, & every time I asked you boys what you wanted on your waffles or pancakes, you always said 'the jam that you made!' & that always made me smile.

Kids Were Here

When I was first asked to be a part of this project, I was admittedly very excited for the group of photographers I'd be working with. They're an amazingly talented group of women. I was also looking forward to documenting a new aspect of our lives, which I gave little (or no) attention to with the camera. Yet it is such a significant part of our everyday. These left-behind toys, the messes, the food, the strewn about clothes; somedays, I think they're staring me in the face, laughing. You vacuumed? ha! You just emptied the sink? Too bad! The entry way has been cleared of shoe piles & coat mountains? Nope, not today! But a funny thing happened to me, with this photo project. I am now pausing more & taking more deep breaths. Do I still enjoy all these messes? If I'm being honest, not so much, but incorporating my photography into the daily disasters has given me a new perspective. It's also provided me with the perfect opportunity to really treasure what's happening now, & embrace it. I know that 'the days are long, but the years are short,' but sometimes I have to remind myself about the years. Most the time the kids remind me, even though I prefer being reminded by myself. When they do the reminding, it sort of provides a big ole' emotional jerk that I am completely unprepared for. Even though I know it's happening, I'm still not ready for it. I'm not sure I'm ready for all the 'remember when's...' either, but I don't have much choice.

Remember that summer you boys got a big trampoline from your Grandma & you jumped, & jumped, & jumped until you were so exhausted, you fell asleep a couple hours earlier than normal; & you always wore your shoes out there, but never back in. So we'd be looking all over for a specific pair, & never found them, until one of us remembered to check by the trampoline. 

Remember that dinosaur you (Rylee) painted in Pasagshak; you were so proud of it & packed it around with you everywhere, for a few days. Now it sits in your bedroom, a bit forgotten about.

Remember that morning I fed all of you brown rice farina for breakfast, & you (Ella) decided to throw it all over the floor, within seconds. I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry, so I took some pictures. 

Remember all those nights we (you boys & I) laid in your bottom bunk, reading books, telling stories, listening to music, tossing & turning, awaiting sleep. 

Remember that puzzle we put together one night, when you boys decided a puzzle sounded like more fun than reading a book before bed. We still read the book, of course. 

Remember a couple months ago, when we got the chickens & they were so tiny. We kept them in a tote in the bathroom & I asked you (Rylee) to make a sign for them. You wrote it so well & so perfectly backwards; every time it falls down, I put it back up- even though the chickens have been in their outside coop for six weeks.

Remember how incredibly hot this summer has been- & all the pool time we've had, & all the rocks & mud you (Ella) have thrown into the pool, quickly making it pretty gross to play in.

Remember that fort you boys built on the beach in Pasagshak, with Nanny. You played, & played, & played in it all day long; & then the next day, you took it apart within minutes. 

Remember that Learning Tower we got you (Ella) & we jokingly called it your cage. But you love it & we love it. 

Remember when you (Rylee) very first met Waldo. You sat on the couch scouring the pages for him, many times finding him quite quickly. & returning to the book day after day.

Remember those nights we went through your bedtime routine, & how much you boys loved having me write everything out. "What's next?! What's next?!" you'd ask. & as strange as it felt to have a 'bedtime list,' it surprisingly made bedtime so much easier. 

Remember that bag of feathers you (Rylee) keep. The one that you add to, whenever you find feathers from our chickens. The one that completely grosses me out, but you told me you're going to glue them to a piece of paper & write out which chickens they go to, once the bag is full. Hearing that made the gross bag bearable.

Kids Were Here

When I was first asked to be a part of this project, I was admittedly very excited for the group of photographers I'd be working with. They're an amazingly talented group of women. I was also looking forward to documenting a new aspect of our lives, which I gave little (or no) attention to with the camera. Yet it is such a significant part of our everyday. These left-behind toys, the messes, the food, the strewn about clothes; somedays, I think they're staring me in the face, laughing. You vacuumed? ha! You just emptied the sink? Too bad! The entry way has been cleared of shoe piles & coat mountains? Nope, not today! But a funny thing happened to me, with this photo project. I am now pausing more & taking more deep breaths. Do I still enjoy all these messes? If I'm being honest, not so much, but incorporating my photography into the daily disasters has given me a new perspective. I know that 'the days are long, but the years are short,' but sometimes I have to remind myself about the years. Most the time the kids remind me, even though I prefer being reminded by myself. When they do the reminding, it sort of provides a big ole' emotional jerk that I am completely unprepared for. Even though I know it's happening, I'm still not ready for it. I'm not sure I'm ready for all the 'remember when's...' either, but I don't have much choice. So I see this project as the perfect opportunity to help me treasure what's happening now, & embrace it.

Remember when you (Rylee) were so proud of yourself, for tracing your hand & then drawing 'rainbows' all over it. Then you stuck it on the window, proclaiming "It sticks!" (thanks to the double-sided tape that has been on the window for months).

Remember how both you boys love to get measured, & how you (Rylee) decided to circle everyone's names, "...so it was easier to read our names."

Remember when you (Covey) tried so hard to get that life ring on the front of your boat, & I told you it didn't fit, but then you discovered the piece was actually upside down; & so it did fit. 

Remember that night, I built you boys' a fort, with hopes you (Covey) would sleep in your room, all night long. It didn't work, but you love the fort. 

Remember that drawing you (Rylee) brought home from kindergarten, that you were so proud of. It seems to float around the house, specifically your bedroom; the other day I found it your window. 

Remember the day you (Rylee) climbed off the window ledge in your bedroom, & brought the wooden dinosaur bank down with you. The now headless dinosaur bank. 

Remember that saturday we shared a table with friends at the Farmer's Market, where you (Rylee) sold your greeting cards.

Remember all those glow-in-the-dark stars on your (Covey) bunk bed, the ones that you like to peel off regularly.

Kids Were Here

When I was first asked to be a part of this project, I was admittedly very excited for the group of photographers I'd be working with. They're an amazingly talented group of women. I was also looking forward to documenting a new aspect of our lives, which I gave little (or no) attention to with the camera. Yet it is such a significant part of our everyday. These left-behind toys, the messes, the food, the strewn about clothes; somedays, I think they're staring me in the face, laughing. You vacuumed? ha! You just emptied the sink? Too bad! The entry way has been cleared of shoe piles & coat mountains? Nope, not today! But a funny thing happened to me, with this photo project. I am now pausing more & taking more deep breaths. Do I still enjoy all these messes? If I'm being honest, not so much, but incorporating my photography into the daily disasters has given me a new perspective. I know that 'the days are long, but the years are short,' but sometimes I have to remind myself about the years. Most the time the kids remind me, even though I prefer being reminded by myself. When they do the reminding, like a week ago when Ry finished kindergarten, it sort of provided a big ole' emotional jerk that I was completely unprepared for. Even though I know it's happening, I'm still not ready for it. I'm not sure I'm ready for all the 'remember when's...' either, but I don't have much choice. So I see this project as the perfect opportunity to help me treasure what's happening now, & embrace it.

Remember when you (Covey) kept sneaking the raspberry muffins off the counter, you thought I didn't know you we're doing it.

Remember when you (Ry) always left a shoe by the upstairs door, & then we could never find a pair, as you rushed out the door to school.

Remember when you boys loved waffles for breakfast (Covey, you were especially particular about it being topped with maple syrup & jam).

Remember when you (Covey) ripped a whole in my favorite tablecloth & you (Ry) tried to fix it with duct tape, when you were supposed to practice your violin.

Remember all those socks you boys left lying throughout the house, & how many times you (Ry) couldn't find socks on school mornings.

Remember that doll Nanny made you (Ella) for your first birthday.

Remember that Cheerios box we turned into a mask, which you boys didn't wear much, but pulled out of your costume box excessively...I think to remind us to smile!

Remember that morning you (Covey) asked for eggs for breakfast; I told you when I was done changing Ella & then came out to find a counter covered in eggs, thankfully unbroken.

Remember how much you boys thought of yogurt as dessert.

Remember that wagon you (Ella) loved to push around, always filled with a random selection of toys.

Remember that time you (Covey) put black tape across the cabinet drawers, to apparently keep me out.

Remember those birdhouses you boys made at the Refuge Center, with so much excitement!

Remember all of those little superhero guys.

Remember that first week of summer break, when we rode bikes to the river almost daily.