When Will was born in 2007, I made a pact with myself to stay on top of the pictures that we take… and for a while I was really good at this. I would order prints monthly to send and add to our own library. This was in addition to emailing out digital versions almost every day to family and close friends. Being completely sensitive towards the fact that babies and children change on a minute to minute basis — and not living within an hours drive of any of our closest, I wanted to make everyone feel like they were watching Will grow. And it worked… that is up until sometime last summer when I totally lost control of the process and simply stopped ordering prints. I don’t know if it was because we became so busy with summer and the events of the year OR if it was because I was going through different cheap and therefore useless cameras — not really liking any and/or having them break consistently up until buying a really good one this past January. Regardless, I was behind. Hundreds of pictures behind, and the catalogue that I had started to compile grew only in a digital sense, which is frightening because NEVER TRUST TECHNOLOGY. Not even the devil knows what wrath would emerge should ANY of these pictures disappear… Because, you know. LIFE. Even the backup of my backedup backup needs a backup — and that might not even be enough.
SO, for the past few days I’ve been dealing with this situation, spending my spits and seconds of free time going through photographs from the past year… Ordering away and preparing the print books for their arrival… I found myself really enjoying this process… reliving all the fun times — ALMOST as if all of the “These are the Days” Natalie Merchants out there were finally being heard by my cynical ears for the first time… If only for a second. Okay – less than a second… OH WHATEVER — Maybe I didn’t hear anything. Natalie Merchant sounds like Elmer Fudd to me anyway. Sorry. That’s just the way it is. I saw her in concert once where she sang and danced with her back to the audience… It never really made very much sense to me other than maybe she wanted us to acknowledge her ass. Which, AHEM, I just did.
And without calling too much attention, at least not in terms of our faces and daily lives (or asses), here is one image of many that I feel compelled to share…
This is my sister Kate and my son Will playing in the surf last summer. I love this picture because — not only does Kate look beyond amazeballs as a silhouette, but it also encompasses what we did almost every other day last year — WENT TO THE BEACH. And it seemed endless — an endless summer of the beach and now that the weather this year is finally ready for it, I have to wonder when we will make it back…. Because HELLO, the only thing that infant babies hate more than losing sight of their food source (aka, my boobs) is the big wide open beach. We haven’t attempted to take Josephine yet, at two months old I’m not quite sure how she’ll handle it… I will have my boobs with me though, so she might not argue too much. I’m also not so sure how much Kate will like having her bathing beauty self being outed on the intergalactic airwaves… if only my boobs could appease everyone.
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