For this Father’s day, to get the story straight from the horse’s mouth, I asked the spouse how becoming a father had changed his identity, his personality, his view of the world. How has fatherhood changed his purpose in life?
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Meh.”
The man is a prolific poet with his words. Continue reading
As far as the parenting world is concerned, the only struggle greater than that of raising a child is to lose one. It’s a struggle of loss, of grief, of identity, of recovery, of hope.
And it is one that is often kept silent. It’s a topic seldom openly discussed, and consequently one that most people are inept at dealing with. Here, I wish to do my part to normalize this conversation, to show the inside workings of the mind of a parent who loses a child and how they manage to keep on going. Continue reading
So confession time: I am a serial watcher of behind-the-scenes videos, bloopers, interviews, Wikipedia entries and essentially anything that gives me the assembly line scoop of a movie/show I fall in love with. My husband mocks me about this relentlessly. Because if fall in love with something, chances are, I am going to know its third most important actor’s first pet’s name. Continue reading
It was inevitable. It was fate. No matter where I was and where I was going, one day I was going to end up in Rome. Because as they say, ‘All roads lead to Rome’, right?
Have you ever missed a place without having actually been there? That’s how I felt about Rome my entire life. I have missed it as if in another lifetime, I had lived there for a lifetime. So you can imagine my exhilaration and anticipation leading up to that flight. Continue reading
Before my daughter was born and we didn’t know her gender, we used to refer to her as “it”. After she was born, the pronoun stuck and we began calling her “it” when we wanted to imply that she was acting like a beastly creature.
When she was down for a nap in her room, my husband would stick the baby monitor in my face and say, “It’s awake”.
When she would pee on me: “It hates you”.
When she would throw a tantrum: “It’s losing its shit”. Continue reading
Every time this year, when I am falling hopeless in love with spring all over again, I try to photograph the spawn with the magnificent apple blossom and magnolia trees that are breathtaking this time of the year. It is their fleeting beauty that I absolutely adore. And so I go with the spawn and my camera (the first baby) on a nature walk, and try to capture her natural interaction with these gorgeous beauties.
The Snow Queen and the Little Girl
Time flies. Time is money. Time is of essence. Time is ticking. Sands of time. Time waits for no one. What time is it anyway?
We kill time. We make time. It can be a good time or a bad time. There is quality time, and there is a quantity of time. Time is a product, a tangible thing it seems.
And to raise a child is to understand the paradigm of time. Mainly because children are predisposed to give less of a shit about time then a bird with an imminent bowel movement does about your car. Continue reading