"It has senitmental value!"

So.....I've realized -- and admitted -- that I have a packrat issue. I have a serious problem trashing things that I've deemed having "sentimental value".....even if I long forgot what that sentimental value was.

Last night I was going thru our storage down in the basement with the goal of getting rid of some of my "stuff". We've started this whole "put it in a garage sale" phase and I was on a roll last night. Now, mind you, I've moved 3 times in the last 3 years and there are boxes that I chose to just move instead of going thru them and pitching what needed to be trashed. And that all stopped last night. It's a more massive nightmare than I had originally anticipated. Waaaaay more massive.

I blame my mom and BEING a mom with this whole problem. After I lost my mom when I was younger (15) I wanted to save every single thing that reminded me of her. I feared that if I threw away something that had a memory of her attached to it, I'd begin to forget about her. I'd forget the smell of her skin, the way her eyes would light up when she'd smile, the sound of her laughter, or the way she made her j's when she'd write. So I saved everything.

And when I became a mom....well, let's just say it had a violent shove into overdrive. I have 3 boxes of Taylor's school papers from preschool, kindergarten, and 1st grade. 3. What on earth do I need 3 boxes of that stuff for???! I saved every coloring book, every doodle, every time she tried to write her name and every napkin I traced her hand on. You name it, I saved it. I wanted to preserve her being my little girl....so when I pulled all these papers out years and eons from now (which was then), I'd remember how her dimples were deeper than her eyesockets, and how her toothless smile made her s's and f's sound funny, and how she used to say "juice bosk" instead of 'juice box', or "yogrit" instead of 'yogurt'. So....again....I saved everything.

So, back to last night.... I was doing a pretty good job of consolidating things I could bare to part with, things that we had duplicates of, and things we just simply do not use. I had a pretty good pile going when I pulled out a square flat box that read 'girls clothes' and the word 'save' written on it. I opened it and found this:



And my heart melted with the memory of Taylor in these red shoes.

One of my best friends, Martha, bought them for her before a trip to Chuck E. Cheese one afternoon. Martha was the best aunt to Taylor when she was little (not that she's not now). She'd call on Friday nights and ask if Taylor could spend the night with her. Martha and my other best friend, Heather, had a bond with Taylor beyond anything I could ever put into words. They taught her words to N'Sync songs and how to dance to Fifty Cent. They'd take her shopping and buy her sparkly belts and cute shoes.

Taylor wore these shoes continuously. And by that, I mean she even wore them to bed. The instant she got out of the bathtub she'd put them on. Even if they didn't match her outfit, she had to have these shoes on. She wore them to the point where they had no tread on the bottoms....you could even see where her little toes were. They are permanenty curled and the rubber is pulling away from the canvas. I bet I bought 6 pairs of shoestrings for this poor pair of shoes. I knew it was finally time to retire them when she couldn't walk normal. Her toes were so smashed in the ends of them that she went from walking heel-to-toe to more of a waddle. She refused to give those shoes up.

And for the first time, what I wanted to happen when I opened one of these boxes....when I saved something that was going to remind me of my past.....did just that. 7 years later....

Do I take it as a sign???

The last few days my inbox has been crammed full of spam. Typically, I don't pay much mind to it and just delete it if I don't recognize who it's from (or it's not website related). But lately, I've really been paying attention to the subject line. I'm really starting to think that someone is trying to show me a sign of what I should do. Or maybe someone is just playing a sick joke on me?

Ha Ha. The joke is over already.

Remember in the movie Bruce Almighty when Bruce is sitting at his computer and tries to answer everyone's prayers by email? THAT'S what I feel like is going on here. Except I feel like it's God sitting at the computer sending me all this spam just to point me in the right direction.

See what I mean:



"I found you a new job"....."WORK FROM HOME!"....."Ready to quit your J.O.B.?".....business cards.....Granted, I can't really explain the AARP one -- not even sure how I got that one. I've been to Photography School so you can cross that off. And I always wanted to be in forensics until I learned I had a weak stomach. And of course, who wouldn't love an extra $3,000 or a new washer and dryer. (I'm not even going to touch the "1 carat diamond ring" one -- Chris, you're safe...for now.)

Those of you who know me, know that I've had this internal struggle for some time now of "do I go full-time with my photography business or not". It's a scary place and an exciting place all at one time. It's a big change to go from a steady paycheck to....not. Don't get me wrong...I like my Corporate America Big Company job but it's nothing I want to make a career out of. And I love the people there. My co-workers, my boss...they've all been very good to me. I just feel like I'm wasting my talent by going in there day in and day out. Like I'm doing myself a huge disservice by not following my passion. Photography makes me happy. I absolutely love putting a smile on my client's faces.

I've weighed every side of it and have listed the pros and cons about 6 different times. Yes, it'd be awesome to work from home....in my pj's if I wanted to. It'd be great to make my own schedule -- take time off whenever I needed it. And let's not even start on what it would do for my family! That's a list in it's own right. But then, the doubt creeps in....do I have what it takes? Can I do it? If I build it will they come?

I'm finally in a place where just about everyone in my life is behind me on this (all but my Grandma who has been thru the recession and saw firsthand how hard the economy can be). Chris has been a godsend to me where my business -- and life -- is concerned. He sees the passion I have for this and how each shoot makes me giddy. And he supports that with no equivocations. He encourages me to pursue it and believes in me. Same thing for Heather. "...it has nothing to do with believing. I KNOW you can", she said. Even Martha has said "even when I don't think you can amaze me any more, you do".

I'm busier now than I ever have been and haven't done the first lick of advertising so far. So, my thinking is, if I'm this busy now...what would it be like if I were to advertise?!

Everything is just pointing one way.

So, I'm going to follow it.

Starting August 1st, I will be what I've always dreamed of being. A photographer. And with that comes a promise to my family, a promise to my friends, and a promise to myself. I WILL make my dream my reality. I will work hard at building my business and balancing my new found career with my home. I will be smart about making decisions and disciplined to bear the load. I promise to keep refining my creativity and challenge myself to stay fresh. I will continue to educate myself and learn from those before me.

Starting today, the fear subsides and excitement takes over. I have faith that everything will come full circle and I will get out of it what I've put into it. Because this is MY dream. And I'm going to live it.

Kase and Aunt Pretty Girl

It's funny how life goes faster the older you get. When you're younger the days just drag on...hour by hour. But when you're older, you could swear it's only Tuesday when it's really Saturday. There's bills to pay, a career to follow, a house to clean, a yard to mow, groceries to get, friends to see....and then you factor in the kids and it goes ALL haywire....field trips to chaperone, parties to plan, practices to make, and the games that go along with it, laundry to wash, socks to match, and loads of homework. Haircuts, parent-teacher conferences and doctor's appointments.....Holy schedules, Batman!

Most of the time I'm pretty good at these things, but it never fails that the one that always gets shoved to the back is the "friends to see". Everyone gets so wrapped up in life that our visits go from every week, to twice in 6 months. Crazy.

Heather and I have been best friends since elementary school. From that point on we have been virtually inseparable. We've seen it all, done it all, been thru it all, said it all and laughed a good majority of the way. She has been my rock nearly all my life.

And even though we talk nearly everyday, we'd both tell you that we don't see each other enough. Admittingly, up until this past Sunday, I haven't seen her since Christmas. Awful, I know.

BUT! Chris and I went over to her house on Sunday for dinner (she makes killer macaroni salad) and a quick photo session with her almost-two-year-old son, Kase. Stinkin' cute....that's what this kid is. He's ornery and adorable wrapped up in one little man. He has these unbelievably long lashes and trouble-making dimples.

The entire afternoon we were there, Kase called me Aunt Pretty Girl. So, apparently he's pretty smart, too. Just kidding...kind of. "Pretty Girl's drink"...."Pretty Girl up?"...."Pretty Girl silly" I could listen to it all day long. I don't think I'm ever going to tell him my real name.

Kase is going to be a big brother, too. So, you'll be seeing more of him and his momma (and the baby!!!) around here soon!!

Interesting facts about my Best Friend Heather:

* She and I have been best friends since 3rd/4th grade. She was in 4th and I was in 3rd (even though our birthdays are less than 3 months apart). We met on the playground.

* Heather idolized Laura Ingalls. When she was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, the answer was always "Laura Ingalls". And that's what she did, too. She has cows and cans applesauce, for crying in the mud! How much more 'Little House on the Prairie' can you get???

* She ran over my foot with her 1st car -- which we referred to as "the peanut".

* She taught me that just because you are related to someone by blood, doesn't make them family. And even if you're not related by blood, doesn't mean that they aren't.

* She loves the smell of her own upper lip.

* She named a calf after me for my 32nd birthday.

* We used to be cloggers together.

* And we used to be lifeguards and bartenders together, too.

* We used to live so close to one another that I could yell out of my bedroom window and she'd hear me.

* She has tried for the last 20+ years to convince me to write a book about my life.

* She's, undeniably, in love with Justin Timberlake. She once entered a Nabisco contest to win backstage passes to one of N'Sync's concerts in hopes that she'd meet him and persuade him into marrying her.

* She can do the wave with her belly. (Well, pre-pregnancy.)

* In her own mind, she's best friends with the stars. I can remember one time when she called me to complain that Brittany Spears didn't call her first before releasing her pregnancy news to the press.

Things are so crazy-busy for us, that Heather actually booked me for her son's 2nd birthday party. So, I'm guaranteed to see her in the next 40 days, which is a heckofalot better than 6 months.

xo,

e

Photo Essay -- Mother's Day

I realized this morning that I never posted any pictures of my Mother's Day.

Mother's Day used to be one of the most dreaded days of the year for me. After losing my mom at the age of 15, it was a day of constant reminder of what I no longer had. It was a day that forced me to remember how her laugh sounded, what her smile looked like, and what her love felt like. And the more days that went by, the harder it seemed to keep those things fresh in my mind.

But then.......then, you have kids of your own, and as amazing as it is, the focus shifts from what you don't have, to what you do. From a day you don't get to be part of, to a day dedicated to you.

This Mother's Day was even better than year's past because it was multiplied by 2. Double the hugs, double the love, double the laughter and double the smiles.

We spent the day outside in the garden with the girls waiting for the boys to come back home. Some of my most treasured things of my mom's are the pictures that keep her memory alive. I realized I rarely allow myself to get in front of the camera -- since I'm normally behind it. So I made a conscience decision to try to get in some of them. (Even though I hate nearly every picture of myself, I'm going to do better at that. Although I think I might be the only person on the face of the planet that actually LIKES my drivers license picture. Go figure.)




I am truly blessed with the people who are in it.

Trying something new...

Ok, so I've been tossing around the idea of slideshows for presenting clients their gallery in addition to the online gallery I already publish for them.

It just so happens that Danielle was the lucky guinea pig...metaphorically speaking, of course....








I'm not for sure if I'll keep it, but for now, I'm liking it.

xo,
e

Indy again....with the gorgeous Danielle

When I shot Rhea's pictures in Indy, her best friend Danielle came along with us on the shoot. 2 days after I got back to OH, Danielle contacted me and asked me to come back to shoot her senior pictures. Are you kidding me!??? Of course!!! I was super excited!

So, on Saturday, I headed back to Indy to meet up with Danielle (and Rhea and her Mom) at Southeastway Park -- which was her 'home base' for cross country. It's so neat when my clients include places of significance in their shoot. It makes me feel like they're letting me in on this little secret that no one else gets told.



Gorgeous girl! She has this innate, sweet, personality that just oozes from her. She's bubbly and absolutely hilarious. And her beautiful red hair in these voluptuous locks....so jealous!



From there we went back to the Lilly House -- which was one of the places we went to with Rhea. The weather could've been a little more cooperative, but I don't think I'll complain:





Danielle, thank you for giving me the opportunity to capture your senior pictures! I had an absolute blast with you and the gang (and the Pussy Willows!) and can't wait to share the rest with you!!

xo,
e

Hard Lesson

I still can remember sitting in that chair, filling out more paperwork as tears dripped on the papers in my lap. I was in complete shock. "They're just wrong -- we shouldn't be here. Surely, this neurologist had something wrong somewhere. He had to be mistaken...there's just no way." The worry and the "what if's" consumed me to the point of nausea. I had created just about every scenario in my head and the only thing I could do is cry.

I glanced over at Taylor sitting next to me and just stared at her while she read a book. She was so little that her feet barely hung over the seat of the chair. For a minute or two the worry that had consumed me just minutes before was overpowered by pride. I sat there a few minutes more, watching her turn through the pages with her thick, pudgy hands. She was far too young to read but her imagination still told her a good story. And as quick as I was overwhelmed with adoration and pride, the worry resided again.

"She's only 4. How is this fair? If it IS a tumor, what happens next? What if it happens at school...all the kids will make fun of her. Would she ever be able to drive? What about swimming and sports? What are our treatment options? Medication? Is it harmful? Did I give this to her? Are my genes responsible for this?"

Just the week before Taylor had had a seizure. Our pediatrician insisted we bring her in and in the course of the hours (and numerous tests) to follow, we were told it was epilepsy. The days between her first seizure and that day in the neurologist's office, were endlessly spent in long bouts of crying, worry, and self-pity.

I must've been lost somewhere in my wondering mind and lack of sleep when I was startled by the waiting room door opening. The window in the top half of the door framed a young mom, maybe in her late thirties, cumbersomely opening the door. After a few minutes wrestling the bags on her shoulder and the doorknob, the door slowly swung open, and she pushed thru her wheelchair-confined son. It seemed like an hour, but it couldn't have been more than 30 seconds that I watched her glide him into the waiting room and park him almost directly in front of me. I know I had to have been staring at them, and I know she knew -- she had to have felt my eyes fixed on the two of them.

He was reclined in his black wheelchair with his hands folded neatly in his lap, his legs slightly elevated. He wore a dark blue sweat suit but was covered up with a Batman blanket tucked clear to his chin. He must've been eight years old. Maybe nine. His sandy blonde hair was barely peeking out of the red helmet strapped firmly to his little head.

His mom walked over to the receptionist to check them in and then returned to her son, sitting in the chair next to him. She had short dark hair and skin and her cheeks were rosy. She removed her coat to reveal a crisp, white, button-down shirt tucked neatly into her jeans.

She leaned over to her son, flashed him a warm smile and pulled down his blanket. Having seen an episode in the same waiting room the week before, I knew the straps around his chest were for his own safety...his seizures were obviously far worse than Taylor's and were responsible for the restraints and the helmet. She adjusted the bib around his neck and sat back in her chair. I forced myself to look away, choosing to look at Taylor as a distraction to what was before me. And as if she knew of my discomfort, the nurse appeared and called us back to the exam room.

I gathered our coats, and as I passed, I glanced at the mom who had been rustling in her purse. There she sat with a compact mirror in her hand, beginning to apply her lipstick.

The next hour was a blur and when the fog finally lifted, I found myself in my car, crying hysterically. I was so ashamed at myself and disappointed for the way I had been acting.

"ERICKA!!! What are you doing?!? Taylor is fine! She’ll outgrow it!! She'll have a normal life. THAT Mom in there will never see her son ride a bike, or run to first base. You don't have it so bad! This is not the end of the world!! Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"

I learned a hard, hard lesson that day. I cried the entire way home...thankful that I would never know what that mom in that waiting room experienced on a day to day basis. I would never know the heartache, the discourage, or the loneliness. I would never know what it’s like to try to bathe a child with a physical impairment. Or have to purchase a van that’s wheelchair accessible. I would never know.

There are still times when I find myself reminded of that day....and how lucky I am. Taylor WAS fine, and she IS perfectly normal. She outgrew the epilepsy and is (thank God!) healthy. She plays sports -- too many sometimes -- and she swims like a fish. She's smart and she's absolutely beautiful.

But every so often, when I feel like I've been beaten in my life, when things just aren't going my way -- regardless of the situation -- I'm taken back to that long car ride home, when I was hysterically sobbing, promising myself that I would never, ever, let myself forget that someone, somewhere, could trump the hand that I was dealt and would trade places with me in a heartbeat.

Last week was one of those weeks. Every time I turned around, I was facing another battle that defeated me. I was broken down and overwhelmed. But at the end of every day, when I laid my head down on the pillow, I remembered this day and the mom who, despite her own battles, still put on her lipstick.

Catching up

Ok....so as promised, I have some making up to do.

This weekend was jam-packed with all kinds of deliciousness. As ironic as it might be, all of my plans for Saturday fell through, so Chris and I were able to spend a much deserved day doing....well, whateverintheheck we wanted --and by that I mean mowing the grass. Which never happens, by the way (the days with no plans, not mowing the grass). In fact, it so rarely happens that we had that feeling like we were forgetting something. You know that feeling when you've driven to a store, gone in and shopped, and as you're checking out, digging thru your purse, you realilze that you've locked your keys in the car? Yeah, that feeling. THAT was Saturday.

So, anyway, last week my best friend asked me to design her step-daughter's graduation open house invitations. My lovely mailman delivered these on Saturday:



And then on Sunday, I had another shoot with one of my favorite clients EVER! This is the 4th shoot I've done for Miss Amanda and have a feeling it won't be our last. I'm not even halfway thru editing her images, but I had to post a quick peek:



You might recognize Harley (the cute little lady on the left) from here. Yes, she was in their wedding....and looked stunning in pearls.

After their shoot, I went to hang out with my Aunt Leah and her family for her husband, Mike's, birthday. Her grandson, Lucas, turned one the day before, and I couldn't resist. But seriously, with eyes this big, what was I suppose to do?? Plus, it didn't help that he was a COMPLETE hambone in front of the camera. He literally smiled and posed the entire time I was focused on him. Too cute for his own good!





PS. I really don't miss that whole "teething" stage.

So much to blog, so little time....

I have a ton of things that I should need to post about....sneek peeks of yesterday's shoot, a cute 1-year-old birthday boy, and some really cool custom graduation cards for my best friend's step daughter...

But it's Monday. And I'm obviously a bit behind... and I have a pretty busy weekend to gear up for, too. Another senior shoot in Indy!

No rest for the wicked, at least that's what Cage the Elephant says.

Anyhoo, check back...I promise to get it all on here!

xo,
e