Journaling Reads:
Little boys your age cannot sit still for more than three minutes. They
run from place to place and destroy everything along the way. You
certainly cause your share of destruction but I am always amazed at the
length of your attention span.
A week ago, we went to the Google family picnic and I was worried that
you’d quickly lose interest and want to come back home. But, I was
totally wrong. One of the areas was full of little beads that you could
string into a furry wire and make bracelets and I knew this would be
your very favorite part of the picnic, so I took you there and got a
mini bowl of beads and a few wires so we could sit down and play
together. I figured it would keep you busy for at least a few minutes.
Two hours later, you were still putting the beads on and taking them off
and putting them back on without showing any sign of boredom. If I
didn’t insist that we leave to look at the other sections, you could
have spent another three hours with the beads.
When you were born, I was worried you might have your dad’s ADD, but it
turns out that when it comes to attention, you’ve taken after me. When
you’re doing something you love, you get lost in that world.
Isn’t it wonderful?
Journaling Reads:
My beautiful son, there are many things I love about you. I love you
big, blue eyes and how they shine with excitement when you discover
something new. I love your warm and cuddly hugs. I love it when you lie
on me and let me hold you. I love your generosity and your kindness. I
love your curiosity. I love your desire to learn.
But most of all, I love how you make me laugh. How you squeal with joy
each time I play games with you and how you react with such raw
happiness that it makes me laugh genuinely and openly. I love how much
laughter and joy you’ve brought into my life.
Thank you, my son.
Journaling Reads:
Two-year-olds are famous for their tantrums and lack of patience, and
you’re no exception. You have such a predictable pattern that I can
almost time you. Here are the steps we go through multiple times a day:
• You want something.
• I tell you that you can’t have it.
• You repeat your ask, insisting as if I didn’t understand what you were
saying and that must be why I am refusing you.
• I tell you that I heard you but that’s something you can’t have.
• You simultaneously stomp your foot and say, “I’m MAD!”
• I tell you not to be mad and try to explain to you why you can’t have
it. When I can see that won’t work, I try to steer you in a different
direction.
• You let your body go limp and start throwing the books off the table,
or hit me.
• Now I am angry and I give you a serious look to indicate what you did
was not the right way to handle your feelings.
• You walk to a convenient wall, lean your head away from me, and start
crying.
• I keep talking to you softly and trying to redirect your attention.
• Finally, you give up and come to give me a hug. Within seconds, we’re
laughing.
We laugh, giggle, and forget all about it. At least until the next time
you find something you can’t have.
My son, I know it’s frustrating to not be able to have everything you
want and I know it’s annoying to not be express yourself clearly, but I
promise it will get better with time. I love you very much and I wish
you were a bit more patient and got a little less mad. While your
routine is so predictable and almost funny at this point, it still
breaks my heart a little each time I see those tears come flooding down.
Journaling Reads:
You love all toys but balls have a special place in your heart. Even if it’s not yours, when there’s a ball around you, you must play with it.
One of the few without journaling.
Journaling Reads:
You like to hide things in the most obscure places. I open a drawer in
the bathroom and find graham crackers and a sippy cup full of water. Our
drain pipes are home to little, colorful balls that you’ve tucked away.
The basketball pole has a piece of toast with cream cheese in it. The
list goes on and on.
You’re curious about every nook and cranny of the house. You think of
the most creative storage places and I don’t think you remember 80% of
the places you leave your stuff in and, often times, they sit there
until I stumble upon them, sometimes weeks later. At times, you find
them yourself and laugh with joy at your discovery.
Little David, life with you never has a dull moment. Each time I uncover
a new storage space you made up, I marvel at your creativity. It’s
become a daily game for me. I wake up and I can’t wait to see the new
set of surprises you’ve left me.
Journaling Reads:
“David, do you want to go to bed?”
*
“No!”
“David, do you want to stay up?”
“No”
“David, do you want to play all night?”
“No”
“David do you want some blue berries?”
(…pause…)
“Yea!”
You still don’t understand most of what I say so I love playing
the “No” game with you. No matter what I ask, you just say no. It
doesn’t matter if I say two sentences that are exact opposites.
Your rule of thumb is to never agree to anything you don’t
understand. Until you recognize a word, at which point the answer
becomes an enthusiastic “Yes!”
Little David, I know that you will soon understand everything I
say and these games will disappear forever. I wanted to make sure
we saved the memory so we could look back years later and laugh at
your clever way of playing it safe.
And finally one from this weekend.
Journaling Reads:
Daddy and I are quite religious about what time we put you down. We had
some problems getting you to stay asleep in the early months, so we
adopted a very structured routine and have stuck to it every day.
Until a few weeks ago.
Our good friends, Manu and Hana decided to get married right during the
time we put you to bed, so instead of getting a babysitter, we decided
to bring you along. We figured if you stay up late for one night, it
wouldn’t make the world end. I didn’t tell Daddy but I was nervous about
how you might behave and whether we’d have to leave during the ceremony.
But I was wrong.
You were an angel the whole time. You read your book, ate bread, drank
water, played with crayons and even cheered at the end when everyone
clapped. At the end of the night, when it got dark, the restaurant lit
up little candles all along the tables. You’d never seen such little
fires before and you were absolutely fascinated with them. Looking at
them, touching them, and especially blowing them out. You leaned into
the little flames and puffed as hard as you could. I was having so much
fun watching you that I forgot to tell you not to do it.
My little David, it turns out the world doesn’t end when we keep you up
once in a blue moon. It can even be a little bit of fun.
Okay, maybe more than a little bit.
Journaling Reads:
A magical moment.
That’s what photography is all about: freezing a magical moment.
That’s what scrapbooking is all about: taking a magical moment and
keeping it for eternity. Getting the opportunity to relive it over and
over again, long after it’s erased from our memory.
When Daddy captured this very magical moment between us, I knew it was
the perfect picture for me to preserve forever.
Years from now, you will be living in your own house, with your own
family, creating your own magical moments. When that time comes, I hope
you’ll look back on these pages and smile at the moments we had
together. At the joy we shared. At our laughter.
And show your children that having magical moments and preserving them
is our family tradition.
Journaling Reads:
Before you were born, I promised myself that I would be a happy person.
I kept reading stories about kids who grew up with sad moms and how they
blamed themselves for the sorrow. I used to get sad easily and I told
myself that it would have to stop that. You deserved better and I was
determined to make it happen. I put positive, inspirational messages all
over the house and reminded myself daily that my attitude was going to
change. I wasn’t sure how it would happen since I had been this way for
thirty years and old habits die hard, but I refused to worry about the
how and just knew that it would have to happen. You deserved that much.
I would work night and day if I had to.
It turns out that much effort was completely unnecessary. The moment you
came out, my personality shifted. I felt healthier and happier. More
fulfilled. I thought it might be the high from the birth and later the
hormones from nursing. I kept making up reasons for why my sad old self
hadn’t returned. I waited for it to rear its ugly head any moment now.
Two years after the birth, even after the breastfeeding, I am still
happy, David. I think it’s time for me to admit that it’s just you. You
make me happy. Your joyful sounds, your funny imitations, even your
crazy tantrums make my day. Lately, you started imitating the car
sound. You close your hands into fists and put them in a circle like
you’re driving a car and then you run around the house, moving your
hands back and forth, making the noise, and spitting everywhere in the
process. Your dad and I can’t help but laugh. You are a perfect little
boy when it comes to entertaining yourself and your exuberance and joy
is contagious. Thank you, little boy, for making me a truly happier person.
Journaling Reads:
When I go through the rolls of photos I take of you, I always run into a
few pictures where I feel like I am intruding on a private moment. Since
you’re not talking much, yet, I haven’t had the opportunity to discover
how your mind works and I am very curious. When you’re sitting in the
little white chair in the backyard by yourself, what are you thinking?
When you’re looking far away, not responding to any of my questions,
what are you thinking? When you’re so lost in your own world that you
don’t even notice the click of the camera, what are you thinking?
Little boy, I can’t wait until you’re fully talking. I can’t wait to see
how your mind works and all the thoughts that occupy your time. I can’t
wait to hear all your questions and I can’t wait for you to stump me. I
can’t wait to explain things to you and see your mind working to digest
them, only to come up with new questions to push the boundaries of your
knowledge, and mine.
I can’t wait to tell you all about why the sky is blue and the grass is
green. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts about the clouds and the bugs
that you so love to watch. I can’t wait to get to a place where your
speech skills catch up with your obvious need and wish to communicate.
Until then, I will look at these photos and wonder: what are you
thinking?
Journaling Reads:
Today you found a pen in your drawer. You took the envelope on the floor
and ran away to the living room. Normally, I’d run after you to make
sure you’re not drawing all over the walls, but I didn’t. I was busy, so
I let you go.
A few minutes later, when I came to the living room, I found you on the
couch, quietly drawing on your envelope. Not on the walls, not on the
couch, just on the envelope.
I love that you love to draw and I hate that we can’t give you pens all
the time because you haven’t learned to differentiate between walls and
paper yet. I want to encourage you. I love looking at what you create.
How hard you concentrate and how much you obviously enjoy it.
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projects for twenty twenty-six
projects for twenty twenty-five
projects for twenty twenty-four
projects for twenty twenty-three
projects for twenty twenty-two
projects for twenty twenty-one
projects for twenty nineteen
projects for twenty eighteen
projects from twenty seventeen
monthly projects from previous years
some of my previous projects
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