Thirty Years

Last month, I turned 30. T turned 30 near midsummer. It's a big year; a big season for our family. First year as a family of 4, first year into our most grown-up years yet.

My birthday is pretty close to E's, and frankly birthdays just lose their special-ness as we age into adulthood. They tend to fade even more when your vibrant young daughter celebrates hers a week previously. Our parents usually do a sweet, loving dinner and give gifts or money to celebrate our adult birthdays, and I always really appreciate it. I guess I was spoiled by my mom, who made my birthday into this incredibly magical day - even the year I turned eighteen on a weekday and lived 100 miles from home, in a dorm room, she still showed me how much she thought about me. It makes becoming used to these adult birthdays more difficult. I also find that I'm now old enough for people to start asking if I'm "ready" to become my next age, or if I'm dreading my birthday.

Maybe someday I'll grow to dread that date rolling around, but... I hope not. I guess thirty didn't feel like a big deal to me. I have everything I could want. I'm married to the love of my life and we own this home together, have two phenomenal kids, an adorable and sweet puppy, a good and steady job, a retirement fund, a savings account, insurance. I no longer know quite what to say when asked what I want for my birthday. Apparently asking for clothes for your kids, or necessary household goods is insufficient. My coworkers asked, and I replied that I wanted brownies. Hahahaha. (They outdid themselves with a lavish brownie sundae potluck, by the way. Because they're fantastic.)

When my wife asked this year what I wanted for my thirtieth... I knew I wanted something more. More than I've ever asked for my birthday. I wanted to book a photographer whose work we admire very much to take our family photos. This is a big gift because it's a fairly sizable investment, but I figured, we only turn 30 once, and C will only be a baby for a short span of time. I wanted photos. One of the plagues of both being photographers is that, while there are many photos of one parent or the other with the children, there are very few photos of everyone together. So we did it! I'm in love with them, and I'm so grateful that we were able to do it.

Sometimes, in the brief moments of silence, I think about my life. As the saying goes, the days are long but the years are short. Especially this first year of infancy for C. He's changing every day and I feel like it's going impossibly fast, and yet I still yearn almost daily for him to be older and develop more independence. Then I take that back, and wish for time to stand still. And then it's 7:30 pm, he's a crying mess, rubbing sweet potato into his hair in his high chair and E is arguing with us about not wanting to put on pajamas and the sink is full of dishes and there's a pile of bottles that need to be washed for tomorrow and I remember that I still haven't made E's lunch yet or packed my own lunch or stuffed the pup's Kong with kibble and peanut butter and the living room was hit by a 4 year old tornado in a Rapunzel dress and I think to myself, "I may never get to pee again."

In these moments, I will admit to sometimes missing my old life. The one where we could spend the whole day in bed watching favorite television shows on DVD. The one that I could sit at the table and literally paint for eight hours straight, stopping only to go to the bathroom. The one in which I could listen to whatever music I wanted, or stay up late to read, or eat a pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food ice cream without being accosted or made to share. And yes, I even miss being able to clean my house on my own time frame and without having to consider whether someone would eat my toilet brush if I left it unattended.

I tell myself, "I'm only human. It's normal to miss these things." I know that one day, these things will come back to me one by one as my children grow and need me less. And I know on those days, when I realize what the return of my own independence means, I will cry and wish for these infinitesimal, endlessly fast days back.

And so I take a deep breath and close my eyes and breathe in the scent of dirt and fresh cut grass from my daughter's hair. I smell the sweet milky scent of my son's breath as he giggles and coos and chews on my chin. I will wait for the laughter to bubble out of my daughter's belly like lava from an erupting volcano, and I will open my lids again to catch my son's brown eyes sparkling with joy as he gets to experience his first Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas this fall and winter.

I think about all those days and weeks and months and years in my early twenties that I spent wishing and waiting and yearning for children. I chuckle to myself before admitting that yes, there is room for all these swirling emotions and desires. I am so grateful; so fulfilled by these tiny dictators who have so thoroughly won over my heart. Easy days, hard days, in-between days... I don't have any regrets about my choices.

Thirty years seems like a long time... but I'm happy to have so much life left to live in front of me. I'm so happy to get to parent these little people and watch them navigate the world around them.

20 Weeks

We're half way there!!

15 Weeks

10 Weeks

5 Weeks

Camping!

The first time A and I went camping together was four years ago for wedding. They rented an awesome group site on Mt. Lemmon and a great time was had by all. 

Our first camping trip, June 2009

Every year as it gets to be sweltering in the desert, we long to head up the mountain and camp. But camping alone isn't good enough, we want lots of company.  Every summer, we want to go back to THAT camp ground. They book up early, so you have to plan ahead which we just aren't good at doing.  This year, however, I did it!

This year's camping trip story actually starts a week earlier.  There wasn't anything going on at work, so I took 2 1/2 weeks of vacation (I really should have taken a longer maternity leave...). A few days in we went down to Madera Canyon to find the perfect spot for a 1-year-old photo shoot later in the week. We found a great little amphitheater and bridge and took some test shots of E and headed back home. 

She's so adorable, I can hardly stand it!

On the way back I sat in the back of our SUV with E to keep her entertained, but as we got back to Tucson she fell asleep. We got off the interstate, but were still on a road that had a fairly high speed limit that people usually ignore. All of a sudden, A says something that gets my attention (neither of us remember what) and slams on the breaks. I look up just in time to see the back of a gravel truck (a FULL-size gravel truck, mind you) slam into the front of our Honda. I immediately look to E, she rocks back and forth a little while we get pushed into the median, but stays asleep. 

By the time we realize what has happened, the semi-truck has driven away and we can't see the plates. There is also a cop car stopped in the right hand lane (the reason the truck changed lanes, although he changed one more than was necessary), but the cop drives away, too, evidently unaware of what happened in his blind spot. I look behind us (A can't since we no longer have a side mirror) and see that we are in the middle of a break in traffic, but cars are starting to come around the corner.  She carefully maneuvers down the rocky median and into the right hand lane.  The car still seems to be drivable, but we want to find somewhere to pull over, and there isn't an emergency shoulder here. I'm on the phone with police dispatch when we find somewhere to turn off, as we turn, we see the truck turning the other way and give them as many details as possible, but still can't see the license.

We pull over and do a quick inventory of the damage. The mirror is gone, and the door is scratched and dented, as is the front fender. The drivers side front tire shows a lot of damage from hitting the curb and rocks, but is still holding air. We are deciding what to do next (replace the tire, put on the spare, just go home) when dispatch calls me back.  Evidently they are looking for us instead of the truck, so we just stay put. 

The cop that comes was actually the one who was in the road.  They saw us on the median, but not that the truck hit us. We answer a bunch of questions and dispatch is able to find a company name on the truck, but no one answers the phone.  They give us the address (which turns out to be a residential address) and send us on our not-so-merry-way. 

This is part of the camping trip story because now we are left with one vehicle while the SUV gets repaired.  Our second vehicle is a MazdaSpeed3. This complicates things since we were going to be hard pressed to fit everything (mainly, the dog) in the SUV. Luckily my parents come to the rescue and offer to bring him up and back down for us. 

Its finally time for the big trip!  We only leave an hour later than we planned.  When we get up there, it is spinkling lightly, but the forecast has more rain, so we decided to quickly set up our tent.  It is a tent my aunt gave my parents, and none of us have ever used it and there are no instructions. Eventually we get it upright, although it seems like something is just not quite right.  We start setting up our air mattress and realize it is leaking. We hang a tarp over the leaking area and cross our fingers.

By then more people have arrived, and the camping trip really gets started. We had potluck meals planned for most of the lunches and dinners.  The campsite had a ramada with picnic tables and grills and a big fire pit. There was lots of good food, lazy mornings, nice hikes, and s'mores!  E did fantastic!  She slept better than she does at home and loved being outside all day.  

E tries to help her friend put on his jacket during their time in "Baby Jail"

A was sick of me rolling my eyes for pictures.

E and I roast marshmallows

A and E sleeping

mmmm.... tacos!

We're swinging in my hammock

nap time with her bunny-friend on the slowly deflating air mattress

In the forest with her forest book!

We decided up have baby races.  Parents of the year.

There was a deer with BIG ears!

Our last morning...

The last morning we wake up to lots of puddles.  Its been raining most of the night and we realized just how not-water-tight the tent is. Our bed is wet, our clothes are wet, the dog is wet. It is still drizzling and the rain doesn't show any signs of stopping. We meet with everyone in the ramada and formulate a game plan. My mom comes back up to entertain the babies while we tear down our damp camp.  We pack everything up and head back home to the heat.

Horses and nostalgia

As many of you know, T and I started a photography (and other artsy things) business in February.  We've done a lot of baby and kid photos, as well as family sessions.  Directly following the start-up and the Facebook page launch, I contacted a local saddle club that always hosts an annual state-wide gymkhana to see if they had a show photographer lined up yet.  They didn't, and were thrilled that someone wanted to come and do it.  

A gymkhana, for horses and their riders, is a competition typically comprised of 4-5 events designed to test the speed, agility, and teamwork of the horse and rider pair.  They are all timed speed events and vary in their design and pattern to be run.

This gymkhana that we signed on to photograph is one of the biggest gymkhanas in the state.  It's a 2-day competition and its winners are the very best of the best in Arizona.

In high school, I competed in gymkhanas regularly and worked hard at it.  I ran at this state gymkhana for 3 years and loved it every single time.  I looked forward to it for months; my horse and I and trained and prepared.  The last time I ran in this gymkhana was almost 10 years ago.

Rocky and A, all decked out for a drill team performance - 2003

I very much was looking forward to getting to photograph this gymkhana!  That being said, I also knew that it had the potential to be brutal on us.  Taking photos of every single rider, every event - it takes over the whole day.  The weather was forecast to be be clear and warm with a breeze.  Ninety four degrees isn't all that hot for southern Arizona, but it is pretty warm to be out in the sun from 7am to 7pm, holding perfectly still while taking pictures.  On top of that, we of course have a baby with us.  We'd hoped to both be photographing certain events, so we needed to make arrangements for E.  Saturday, we brought the teenaged daughter of a friend of ours to hang out with her and Sunday my parents and sister came to be with her.  It mostly worked pretty well, considering that she's only eight months old as of today.  E spent the whole time in the shade and slathered in sunscreen, so she really just got bored.  And kind of warm at times.

I arrived early Saturday morning by myself to start setting up our table and canopy.  There is simply nothing like the crisp dawn air, the smell of fresh hay and desert springtime, warm dirt and horsehair.  The younger riders were being boosted onto the backs of their horses and ponies by their parents.  Many of the teens had hopped onto their horses bareback and were walking from their overnight stall spaces to their trailers, where their tack was stored.  The adults scrambled around with last-minute preparations, final instructions to their kids, organizing coolers and tents and trying to slap some sunscreen on the toddlers running around before going to retrieve their own horses.

I don't think there is actually any way to describe to you how I felt that morning, but I'll try.

My heart beat a little faster.  My lungs swelled in my chest, trying to take in all the scents of my teenage years.  Scents that have been missing from my life for awhile.  A smile stretched my lips as I watched little girls trot past on their carefully color-coordinated horses, giggling at some inside joke between them.  Pink reins and pink saddle pads matched the pink boots their horses wore.  Others chose lime green, turquoise, purple, blue.  Horses were bathed and groomed for the occasion, saddles had been cleaned and oiled.

Reminded me of the evening prior to the gymkhana, when a 16 year old me would spend two hours lovingly going over every inch of her saddle and tack, making sure it shone richly in the amber lamplight after the rest of her friends had all left the barn.  I'd wash my saddle pad and my horse's support boots in the washer in my house, and my mom would remind me to wipe out all the clumps of horsehair after I was finished.  I would go to Michael's and buy blank tshirts and iron-on letters and decals.  I made myself a custom shirt for each day of the competition, different ones every year.

April 2002

Friday, my whole family would pack up and we'd go pick up the trailer and my horse and head the 2 hours south to the fairgrounds.  I'd settle my horse into his stall, we'd park the trailer, and then we would go check into our hotel.  I always meant for Friday night to be an early night, but with entry to the gymkhana came entry into the county fair, so we'd ride rides and eat fair food before heading back to the hotel, where I was usually too excited to sleep very well.

Competition day started early, as the horses needed to eat before we could get going.  I loved rising with the sun (just on gymkhana days!) and greeting my horse, Rocky, as he woke.  I'd give him a good, thorough grooming as he munched his breakfast.

Gymkhana days were filled with anticipation, anxiety, adrenaline.  I loved them; I worried about doing poorly.  The state gymkhana... all the emotions ran hotter than usual.

Watching all the riders direct their leaping and jigging horses through the gate gave me fond memories of Rocky, dancing sideways along the fenceline, waiting for me to give him the go-ahead.

A and Rocky in 2002

I saw the horses charge, hooves cleaving dirt, nostrils flared, and I remembered when that was me.  Men and women alike calling out commands and encouragement to their mounts as they rounded barrels or darted between poles.

It might seem like they're running along the surface of the earth, but that's just a trick our minds play.

In truth, these horses fly.  And in riding them, we borrow wings.




If I could go back, I would remind myself every day, every competition, to savor every bit of it I could.  To just be present as much as possible.  At 16 years old though, I don't know that I would have known what that actually meant.

I know that one day, my family will be a gymkhana family again.  I don't know when that'll be, or what it'll look like, but there is no doubt in my mind that we'll have horses.  But I do know that it won't be what it was before.  And it's not supposed to be - I've lived that part of my life already, it would be stupid to want to live it again.  I look forward to seeing what horses are in my family's future.

But for now, I'll take photos of other people's horses, with their rippling muscles and gleaming coats.  And I'll wish I could go up to every single one of their riders and whisper quietly, "Don't let today get away.  You don't know where tomorrow is going to take you.  And buy some damned photos, because we're really good and I wish I had more photos of me and my horses."

A professional photo of me and Rocky that my parents bought in 2003

A photo T took at the state gymkhana - April 27, 2013

A photo T took at the state gymkhana - April 27, 2013

*a special note: Horses have been one of the most enriching parts of my life, 

and there isn't any way I would have gotten to participate if it weren't for my 

amazing, loving, encouraging, supportive family.  Mom and Dad, thanks for 

giving me an incredible, irreplaceable gift.  I am eternally grateful for it, and you.