Real Ericka and the Stunt Doubles

Sometimes I'd kill to have a stunt double (or more) in real life. It never fails that I need to be 100 places at once...and the majority of the time I seriously try to figure out a way to make everyone happy and be at every place I need to be. I hate letting people down. If I had a few stunt doubles, then there would be more of me and everyone would be happy!

We'd meet bright and early every morning around my kitchen table. All of us would have my favorite coffee travel mug and I'd assign each double to their tasks for the day. (I'd call the shots since I'm the Real Ericka.) Everyone would go do their job for the day and then we'd all report back at night and debrief each other on the events of the day.

There would be:

Mom Ericka - She would be at every classroom party, dentist appointment, doctor's appointment, parent-teacher conference and awards banquet. She'd wear a big 'S' on her shirt for SuperMom. She'd be able to hangout on the deck with the kids while they play in the sprinkler and go on every fieldtrip. She'd be there to Band-aid every scraped knee, or put the wind back in their sail when they've been disappointed. Every tear would be wiped clean off their cheeks, every spec of ketchup would be spit-rubbed off their chins, and every proud smile would be permanently etched in her mind.

Sports Ericka would cover all the bases.....pun intended. She'd have a mack-daddy calendar with every sports schedule lovingly written and color coded. Bryce would be red, Brenden would be green and Taylor would be blue. (Harley doesn't play sports, but if she'd did, she'd be purple.) She make 100 copies of every schedule and make sure every Grandparent, Aunt, Uncle, friend, and neighbor would be given a copy. She make sure every water bottle was filled, every sports bag packed, every uniform was clean. She'd have a first aid kit handy, healthy snacks readily available and a shuttle to and from each practice, game or team event. She'd be sitting in the stands at every event, watching every play, proudly wearing her team-logo attire complete with a large, round photo button. Maybe even have a coordinating seat cushion.

Domestic Ericka would wear a cute little apron with a big "S" on the front -- yes, for SuperMom. She'd keep the fridge stocked and the floors shiny. Drawers would be free of clothes that are too small, no almost-empty cereal boxes in the pantry and every toilet paper holder would be promptly restocked with a full roll. The dust would never accumulate on the dressers, no mildew in the showers and the floorboards would be wiped down each week. There would always be vacuum lines in the carpet, ice in the freezer and dinner would be religiously served at 5. The grocery list would remain on the fridge instead of her head. There would be hospital corners on every bed and fresh flowers on the countertop. The grass would be cut, the garden would be hoed and the smell of fabric softener would ooze from every open window.

Girlfriend Ericka would spend her days buying her sweetie new underwear and sentimental cards to leave on his dashboard. She'd call him throughout the day to tell him how much she missed him or to remind him of plans they have for the weekend. She'd set up Date Night or fix him a soft pretzel with cheese while they're watching 'I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Outta Here'. She'd give advice, offer support, and greet him with a bear hug and a "how was your day" when he'd walk in the door at night. She'd make get-aways for the two of them every three months to keep their love energetic and their commitment renewed. She'd leave "I love you"s on the bathroom mirror that he'd see only when the bathroom fogged up. She'd snuggle on the couch every night and surprise him with a lunch date on Thursday "just because".

Photographer Ericka would have a thriving career in what she's passionate about. She'd keep clients' emails returned and orders processed. She'd attend lighting workshops and Photoshop seminars. She'd keep her knowledge fresh and her schedule full. She'd blog about rootbeer floats and birthday parties, complete with pictures. She'd be in charge of giving each Ericka a camera to capture the memories, and when full, each Ericka would return the camera to Photographer Ericka so that prints can be made. She'd make sure all the frames proudly displayed on the mantle -- or the wall of 104 pictures -- were aesthetically arranged. She'd make big canvas prints of each child and hang them in the hallway. Family pictures would be taken every year, and school pictures would be passed out.

Best Friend Ericka would meet with her best friends every single day. None of this every-six-months BS. She could go have lunch with Martha in Indy, or hang at the beach with Angie, or take an afternoon shopping with Heather. She'd be able to stay caught up with baby appointments, or the happenings in B-town. Martha and I would be able to have grape Martini's at the Fish Market every Tuesday while we chatted about how lucky we are to have great men in our lives. She'd be able to meet Martha and Heather for a Mandatory Once a Month dinner. She'd call her network of close-knit friends to check on them every week, make sure they are ok, check on how their kids are doing and catch up on their lives. They would talk about cheerleading try-outs and weightlifting meets. There would be no "did I tell you...." or "I forgot to mention....." in their conversations. She would keep in touch with everyone, every day. She'd offer them all encouraging words in trying times, bits of advice when things got rough, and a smile because she's glad to hear from them. She'd make plans with Casey and Susie, Ted, Tom and Angie, and all their kids to go to laser tag, or to spend New Year's playing Guitar Hero.

Daughter/Sister/Aunt Ericka would make every dance recital, softball/baseball/tee ball/football game and every birthday party. She'd stay caught up with her brothers and sisters. She'd fix dinner for them when they'd get home from the hospital with a new baby, or dogsit when they're out of town. She'd be there to babysit when scheduling conflicts happen and fill every niece and nephew with sugar before sending them home. She'd check on the grandparents and stop in to eat lunch with Elaine. She'd visit the cemetery more frequently and place bright bouquets of flowers where her loved ones rest.


But the Real Ericka doesn't have this luxury. I have blogs to post, clothes to put away, a boyfriend to hug and kids to keep clean. I had 100 places to be this weekend and only one of me to commit. I missed softball games, errands and chores. There were priorities to keep and work that was shoved to the back burner. So, until I figure out how to duplicate me -- because the world could use more of me, right!? -- I'm just going to have to accept that this is the way of life for the time being.

I'll be catching up on posts over the course of the week (hopefully) but for now I'll just give you this little teaser from a BBQ that I WAS able to attend! Aunt Ericka did her job here with help from Photographer Ericka. Hard to believe that she's this big already when it seems she was only this big a few weeks ago.

My own angel

It's been weighing on me for the last couple of days now, and no matter how distracted I am with new gear, kids, life, etc. I can't seem to shake the increasing thoughts about her.

Her. I say that like she doesn't have a name or I've forgotten what it was. Like we were only brief acquaintances and not blood. I say that like we didn't see each other day in and day out for 15 years. Or maybe I say that to keep her memories at an arms length to protect myself from the sharp pain of missing her.

As if she wouldn't have been proud enough of me for being a mom -- a great mom -- I know she'd be proud of me for diving head first into my photography business. And no matter how excited I am to start this book of my life, it's somewhat bittersweet to do it without seeing her excited reaction smeared across her face. This venture gets added to the long list of monumental milestones in my life that she's missed, like another notch in Life's belt who happens to be on Weight Watchers.....and Adkins. The older I get, the more things get added to the bottom of that list -- always at an increasing rate.

It amazes me how the sense of smell can instantly take you to an otherwise forgotten memory. Like the smell of Doublemint gum taking me to Sunday morning church service, sitting next to my Grandma who let me have a half a stick to chew instead of singing hymns. Or the smell of a sawdust-y garage taking me back to my grandparents house on Strowbridge Drive in Sandusky where I'd skid the wheels of my Big Wheel down the straight runway-esque sidewalk. Or how the smell of a growing corn field whispering on the summer breeze takes me back to long summer days on a farm where my Aunt Leah encouraged our imaginations to melt as fast as our Jell-O pudding pops on the back porch. Or how I can pass a strange woman in the mall wearing White Shoulders perfume and I'm rushed back to the last Mother's Day with my mom as if it were just last month.

I can hear her laughter in my mind when Harley or Bryce says something funny. I can hear her encouraging words when the doubt creeps in as if she's sitting across the table from me, with her piping hot coffee in front of her, and a lit Winston Light 100 in hand. She'd tell me that I'll be fine and she has faith everything will fall into place. Then she'd tell me how proud she is of me for being daring enough to follow my dream.

I take comfort in her as my angel. I believe all of the signs I have seen, all of the subtle hints that have been strategically placed, were all done by her hand.

I have an amazing number of supportive people who are encouraging me in this. Some I get to see every single day (or close to it)....others I "see" with my heart.

Good things come in 1000...

Well, my little blog here reached a new milestone today!! My 1000th visitor! Thank you, visitor from Dayton, Ohio at 8:53 this morning!!

It's a little humbling for me to think that I have had 1000 visitors! I'm not sure what I have to say is that important, so I'll just tell myself that they all just like stopping by here to see the pictures. (It's my world, right?) =)

I've had several people tell me that they like to check in here for mere entertainment. Oh! My life is entertaining alright! 2 boys and 2 girls, crazy life, love life, photography business, you name it. I'll blog about it. Chris makes fun of me for taking pictures of banana sandwiches (which I'll be blogging about soon), or taking pictures of us on "date night". It's actually become a joke between us. If something big happens -- heck, if something even small happens -- we'll look at each other and he'll say something like "did you get a picture of it so you can blog about it later?". That in itself is entertaining.

I've had visitors from pretty much everywhere so far:

Sun Prairie, Washington
Laurel, Maryland
Birmingham, England
Rochester, New York
Thiensville, Wisconsin
Ft Mitchell, Kentucky
Indianapolis, Indiana
Fort Wayne, Indiana
Okinawa, Japan
Chicago, Illinois
Cincinnati, Ohio
Sandusky, Ohio
Atlanta, Georgia
Austin, Texas
St. Louis, Missouri


My best friend, Heather, and a fellow photographer friend of mine have both told me I should write a book about my life. I would agree that my life has been.....interesting. I've learned alot in the short time I've been here. I've learned some important lessons from a lot of different people. Some of those people I love, others I don't. Some of those people are still part of my life, and others never were. Some of those lessons learned were by mistakes I've made, some lessons were learned by mistakes others had made. Some by death, some by birth. And while there have definitely been times that were more along the lines of an episode of The Jerry Springer Show, there have been some things that I've learned that might help someone else. But for now, this little blog will be the closest I get to writing a book about my life. I'll save the hardbound edition for when I retire and am traveling the continent in an RV with my sweetie.

So anyway, I just want to say thanks to everyone that has stopped by, or continues to stop by -- whether you're my best friends, family, co-workers, clients, or just passing thru the information superhighway. I appreciate the fact that you stopped to have a look around and read something....interestingly funny.

Next time you come thru, be sure to leave me a comment! Say hi! I love to know that I have visitors!!

Proof....

....that I wasn't lying when I twittered that I was on a rootbeer float kick lately...

Stay tuned....last weeks sessions are almost done!

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.

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.

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.