Tag Archives: mommy blog

Where did I lose my “me” time? | Photography by Brea

When I was 7 or 8 years old… I had a “thinking tree” (as I called it) just down the alley that ran beside my house.  It had a thick branch just low enough that I could pull myself up to sit on it, and leaves that sagged down almost to ground level to create a natural little tent inside which no one could see me.

I loved that tree.  It was my “space” where I went simply because I enjoyed alone time… and it also served as a “safe zone” I could retreat to when I felt emotionally overloaded or sad.

Lately I’ve been noticing that my daughter has a WHOLE LOT of me coming out in her personality… specifically in the way that she also finds ways to make time to be by herself.  Whether it’s taking her stuffed animals into her cardboard “house” (made of the shipping remnants of our patio furniture we got this summer), and closing the door for a half hour while she plays make-believe with them…. Or how she’ll be playing with a group of neighborhood friends and then find a way to make space for herself to dance or to sing “Frozen” songs away from the crowd.

And watching her little “keep to herself” personality has brought me back to the peacefulness that I used to feel doing the same thing.   While I LOVED my time with my friends and spent the majority of my time with them…  I equally loved those quiet times just hanging out by myself.   Whether it was in my room journaling/writing poems… or just hanging out on that low-hanging branch.

But somewhere along the way… that little girl stopped going to that thinking tree.  She stopped giving herself a time and a space to retreat to when her emotions were on overload, or just to be alone with her thoughts.   And today… if I DO decide to spend that time alone…  it’s uncomfortable, can be filled with guilt that I should be doing something “productive” or with my family… and simply just not as peaceful as I remembered it being on that branch.

So WHY did that little girl lose that awesome recognition that “me” time is so important…so healthy … and so necessary to stay level-headed in an otherwise uneven world?

Well…

I know I lost it a little bit in adolescence when I got made fun of for being “too deep” and started trying to hide that side of myself.

I know I lost it a little bit in my twenties when I spent my time defining myself based on how many friends I had around me.

I know I lost it a little bit when I entered the corporate world and got caught up in the belief that time spent on emails/meetings/deadlines were more important than time spent acknowledging what my own needs were.

I know I lost it a little bit when I had kids and listened to the societal voices that labeled Moms who openly admit that they want “me time” as selfish.

But looking back… I realize that I didn’t lose it. I gave it away, didn’t I?  I gave it away to the chaos and to all of those other voices.  I spent more time listening to that noise, and NOT listening to the person that I used to listen to when I sat on that thinking tree branch 25 years ago.

There are times that I watch my daughter retreat by herself and worry for her…  that she might be an outcast at school when she’s off in the corner of the playground by herself while all of her classmates are playing kickball.  But you know what? I hope she doesn’t listen to me – or anyone who calls her out for it, for that matter –  and instead…. that she never stops listening to that smart little voice of hers that tells her how awesome it is… and always will be… to give herself some “me time.”

And I hope she’ll let me borrow her thinking tree … whenever I decide to start listening again to the voice that really matters.

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One High Five Between Two 3-Year-Old Strangers… Two Moms with Tails Between Their Legs | The Mom Blog

“Look, Mom … Here comes my friend.”

My three year old’s voice couldn’t have been more excited as we played in an otherwise empty park on a “disconnect from life” trip back to my hometown last month.

I looked around expecting to see one of my friends who happened to show up at the park with their little one that my daughter may have recognized.

Instead – I saw a Mom and her daughter walking down the street towards us.  The Mom unfamiliar – her daughter looking to be about my daughter’s age.

The minute the duo joined the playground area – the girls met up above the tandem slide… asked each other their names…  slid down their side of the slide… high-fived … and headed off giggling to explore another part of the jungle gym.  As if they’d been friends for months.

Us Moms looked at each other from our keep-a-distance spots across the play area and laughed a bit at the instant friendship that was born between the two.  And we semi-awkwardly came together with our tails between our legs to introduce ourselves to one another and asked a couple of predictable “Mom” questions.  And as our girls continued to play with each other, forcing the two of us to stay in the same general area… more conversation sparked up, and we learned more about each other, we shared stories about raising three-year-old girls and talked about our connection to the town we were in.  And by the end of the almost 30-minute unplanned playdate, we had all made a connection with each other – the girls hugged goodbye and us Moms gave a “nice-to-meet-you” wave.

On our short drive back to my parents’ house I was thinking about that interaction that went down.  And how cool it was that my daughter immediately referred to that little girl as her friend. How quickly they created a friendship. How “normal” it was for them to ask each other’s names. How they bonded on their commonality of two little girls being the same age and just wanting to have fun.  And how THEIR willingness to not remain strangers during that 30-minute timeframe caused their Moms to not remain strangers either.

And what stood out even more was this:   I wondered… if those girls hadn’t made the effort to connect… would that Mom and I have connected instead?  Or would we have just gone about our business with the polite smile – using the “chasing our kids” excuse to avoid (*gasp*) conversation with someone we didn’t know….maybe speaking occasionally to each other only to apologize when our daughter jumped in front of the other daughter to go down the slide.   Or would we – as adults – have reached out to each other to try to form a friendship – even if brief – solely based on the realization of our basic commonality as Moms?

Unfortunately, I’m not sure if we would have.   Because I can think of several times I’ve been at the park with other Moms and neither of us introduced ourselves.  Or struck up a conversation.  Or even said goodbye to each other — let along HUG each other like those two girls did when it was time to leave.

Why do we do that?  Why do we go to the library, and to the playground, and to the play area at the mall, or in the watching area of dance class … where there are tons of Moms just like us around who are probably craving the same adult interaction we are … and not create some sort of connection out of it?  Why don’t we introduce ourselves? Are we THAT cool that we don’t need to make a new friend? Are we THAT content to do our own thing that we miss an opportunity to make a connection with someone – even if it’s just for the 15 minutes that we’re there?  Is sitting on a park bench and checking what our sort-of-Facebook-friend is doing THAT MUCH more meaningful than creating a real connection with a person that’s right in front of us?  It must be.  Because we usually choose those other things, don’t’ we?

You all know the quote “While we try to teach our kids all about life, our kids teach us what life is all about.”  And isn’t it true in this scenario.  Didn’t those two little girls teach their Moms something about life… and the simple joys of having human interaction with people. No matter how quick.  No matter whether we’ll see them again.  No matter where they come from.  

At what point along the way have we lost that?  HOW do our kids know more about what’s important in life than we do?

I’m not sure.

But they do, you guys.  

And that’s embarrassing.

But we can make up for it by making sure that they never lose that uninhibited willingness to connect with a stranger… by being willing to connect with a stranger.  By getting off our phones, out of our heads and up from the playground’s bench … and getting into life’s game (one at which our kids are currently winning.)

One High Five Between Two 3-Year-Old Strangers… Two Moms with Tails Between Their Legs | The Mom Blog

“Look, Mom … Here comes my friend.”

My three year old’s voice couldn’t have been more excited as we played in an otherwise empty park on a “disconnect from life” trip back to my small-town hometown last month to spend a few lazy days with my parents.

I looked around expecting to see one of my friends who happened to show up at the park with their little one that my daughter may have recognized.

Instead – I saw a Mom and her daughter walking down the street towards us.  The Mom unfamiliar – her daughter looking to be about my daughter’s age.

The minute the duo joined the playground area – the girls met up above the tandem slide, asked each other their names, slid down their side of the slide, high-fived and headed off giggling to explore another part of the jungle gym.  As if they’d been friends for months.

Us Moms looked at each other from our keep-a-distance spots across the play area and laughed a bit at the instant friendship that was born between the two.  And we semi-awkwardly came together with our tails between our legs to introduce ourselves to one another and asked a couple of predictable “Mom” questions.  And as our girls continued to play with each other, forcing the two of us to stay in the same general area… more conversation sparked up, and we learned more about each other, we shared stories about raising three-year-old girls and talked about our connection to the town we were in.  And by the end of the almost 30-minute unplanned playdate, we had all made a connection with each other – the girls hugged goodbye and us Moms gave a “nice-to-meet-you” wave.

On our short drive back to my parents’ house I was thinking about that interaction that went down.  And how cool it was that my daughter immediately referred to that little girl as her friend. How quickly they created a friendship. How “normal” it was for them to ask each other’s names. How they bonded on their commonality of two little girls being the same age and just wanting to have fun.  And how THEIR willingness to not remain strangers during that 30-minute timeframe caused their Moms to not remain strangers either.
And what stood out even more was this:   I wondered… if those girls hadn’t made the effort to connect… would that Mom and I have connected instead?  Or would we have just gone about our business with the polite smile – using the “chasing our kids” excuse to avoid (*gasp*) conversation with someone we didn’t know….maybe speaking occasionally to each other only to apologize when our daughter jumped in front of the other daughter to go down the slide.   Or would we – as adults – have reached out to each other to try to form a friendship – even if brief – solely based on the realization of our basic commonality as Moms?
Unfortunately, I’m not sure if we would have.   Because I can think of several times I’ve been at the park with other Moms and neither of us introduced ourselves.  Or struck up a conversation.  Or even said goodbye to each other — let along HUG each other like those two girls did when it was time to leave.
Why do we do that?  Why do we go to the library, and to the playground, and to the play area at the mall, or in the watching area of dance class – where there are tons of Moms just like us around probably craving some adult interaction – and not create some sort of connection out of it out of it?  Why don’t we introduce ourselves? Are we THAT cool that we don’t need to make a new friend? Are we THAT content to do our own thing that we miss an opportunity to make a connection with someone – even if it’s just for the 15 minutes that we’re there?  Is sitting on a park bench and checking what our sort-of-Facebook-friend is doing THAT MUCH more meaningful than creating a real connection with a person that’s right in front of us?  It must be.  Because we usually choose those other things, don’t’ we?
You all know the quote “While we try to teach our kids all about life, our kids teach us what life is all about.”  And isn’t it true in this scenario.  Didn’t those two little girls teach their Moms something about life… and the simple joys of having human interaction with people. No matter how quick.  No matter whether we’ll see them again.  No matter where they come from.   At what point along the way have we missed that?  HOW do our kids know more about what’s important in life than we do?
I’m not sure.
But they do.  And that’s embarrassing, guys.
But we can make up for it by making sure that they never lose that uninhibited willingness to connect with a stranger… by being willing to connect with a stranger.  By getting off our phones, out of our heads and up from the playground’s bench … and getting into life’s game (one at which our kids are currently winning.)

Bringing the “Vacation You” Home with You | Photography by Brea | The Mom Blog

I’m sitting here on a balcony twelve floors up … watching my husband and my 3-year-old daughter play in the sand down by the waves while my little dude takes an early morning nap inside. (You know – to make up for the two hours he was wide awake last night.)

Outside of the tranquil sound of the waves and the occasional joyful squeal of a child running away from a wave in the distance… It’s really, really (beautifully) quiet up here on this balcony … an opportunity for me to sit still for a second with nowhere to be and nothing on the to-do list except take in the adorable scene happening below me.  Because even though there are tons of other beach-goer distractions and sounds around her, I have blinders toward them … it’s like the sun is shining right down on that wet pony tail while she follows her daddy around with tools for him to build her a princess sandcastle, taking a break every so often to do a little twirl in her own little world. She has looked so big to me lately, I love seeing her as a little freckle of a pink bathing suit in the midst of the giant ocean and miles of sand landscape. This is completely one of those “life is really awesome” moments.

Vacation for me has always been an opportunity to put a weed wacker to the daily chaos of home – and to just “be” for a little bit. And enjoy uninterrupted time with my family.

… To wake up at 6am with my no-concept-of-time son and play on an almost vacant beach… Chasing the seagulls, getting our shorts splashed in the waves and then having him lay on my shoulder when he starts to feel the side effects of his extra-early wake-up time.

… To give my daughter my undivided attention in the pool as she jumps off the shallow-end steps for the 64th time in her oversized goggles and is just as excited on the 65th.

… To give my husband the “you go ahead honey – stay down here and enjoy the sun and the pool with her and I’ll go in the room for the baby’s nap”…  when the truth is I really enjoy the time sitting up here on this balcony without a responsibility to be had.

It’s about disconnecting with reality and all of its distractions, and reconnecting with everything that matters.

Like that little tanned-leg flower-waisted bathing suit wearer in the sand down below me.  And the man who makes her (and my) world so safe, so whole and so much fun. And the little boy sleeping silently in the monitor beside me brewing up the energy to be a non stop machine for the rest of the day.  And that soon-to-be addition to our family who grows so innocently inside of my belly.  And myself… reconnecting with who I authentically am and giving myself permission to have fun, to relax and to recharge.

THAT is everything that matters.  THIS… Is life.

But in the midst of this blissful state… I let the thought of the first day we walk in the house from vacation creep in.  That house that is a mess from the chaos of packing a week before. The computer that awaits me with emails and editing.   The lawn that will need mowed and the empty fridge that will require a grocery run.  The stove that will stare at me and challenge me to come up with a meal every night and actually find time to cook it in the midst of a work-filled and kid-chasing day.

And in an instant…  that calm, happy, alive-ness washes right back out into that ocean.  My shoulders droop and my stomach gets a knot.  To think about going home to that cycle of monotony and distractions and stresses… ugh.  Why can’t I feel the way I feel right now on this balcony all of the time?

And I stopped myself for a second.

And I really thought about that.

Why CAN’T I have this vacation-bliss feeling all of the time?  What’s my excuse? What’s holding me back?

The answer is… I am

I let the distraction weeds grow and overcome me. I CHOOSE to see the mess in the house instead of the people that made it.  I choose to see the computer instead of the privilege to have an office in my home. I choose to focus on the dinner preparation instead of the conversation we get to have as a family while eating it.  I choose to make cleaning a priority when I know it’s not. I choose chaos over calmness.

And that ocean of distractions will ALWAYS be there. And it is MY CHOICE whether or not to focus on it. To let it overcome me, or to let the light shine through instead onto those little freckle of things that are truly important in the midst of it.

So today I vow to not let the “Vacation Brea” disappear with the tide the minute our car turns back north.  Nope… she’s coming with me.  With all of her calmness. Her happiness. Her “so myself”-ness. And her freakin-aliveness.

photography-by-brea

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Throw on the Scuba Gear | Photography by Brea | The Mom Blog

I’d like to think that I get to know my clients decently well.  I spend a lot of time with them before, during and after a session – and I get to ask a lot of questions about them along the way that helps me not only capture their families authentically, but helps me get to know them a little bit as people.

But a recent interaction with one of my client Moms made me stop and think about what it actually means to “know” someone… and at what point can you really say you know someone “well.”

It happened like this:  We had never met in person…  but I felt like our connection was immediate even from the first time she contacted me.  We emailed a bunch, we talked on the phone and we did a novel of texting leading up to our 1.5 hours together during the session.  Add a little more texting and calling after she got her images …  and I had definitely formed an opinion about “who she was” as a person based on those interactions.

But then – in one of our back-and-forth texts about her final gallery – she shared something extremely personal with me about a life event that she went through… and it made me pause.    I started thinking about my “opinion” of her prior to her sharing this with me and how “well” I thought I knew her. My thoughts prior were:  gorgeous girl, incredible spirit about her, infectious personality, extremely authentic in her interactions, funny, a beautiful family full of a lot of love (proven by the pictures), has it all together.    So when she decided to share something that was so personal and so absolutely defining in her life … while my opinion of her certainly didn’t change, my respect for her went through the roof.  And more importantly, every part of me wanted to know more about her.   How she overcame things.  How she made decisions.  How it affects her (or doesn’t affect her) today.   I wanted to “know” her better … I wanted to understand the “true” her. And I wanted to kick myself for thinking that I had done that previously through emails, texts and a couple hours of photographing.

This whole “make an opinion about someone with little information” thing is not a new topic, you guys… I know that.  But I also know that this concept is rocking all of us more than we want to admit.  And I’m not just talking about the “book by its cover” judgment you make about the Mom sitting across the play area at the library – I’m talking about those people who are daily parts of our lives.  Our friends. Our family. We don’t ask the real questions of each other anymore.   Are we afraid of prying?  Or maybe afraid that someone will ask us something more deep and we’ll have to face “real” topics ourselves?   Or maybe we’re all to busy with our own “stuff”  that we don’t have time to hear about someone else’s.  Or maybe it’s just more comfortable to not go “there.”  But what are we missing out on because of that?

Think of it like this:  you have two people who know nothing about the ocean and have never seen it.  You send them both out on a boat with scuba gear to explore for two hours.  Person one opts to sit on the boat the entire time and takes in the view from the surface.  Person 2 uses the scuba gear.   Which person is going to come back with a better understanding of the ocean?  Both will have an opinion… but who will truly “know” the ocean better?

But we are so often Person 1.  And that ocean of friends we think we know?  There is SO much going on with them … so much history… so many thoughts… so many stories.  And we probably don’t know half of it.

I remember going through a really weird, emotional and rough spot personally during what would seem to be one of the best times of my life.   Everyone around me was just telling me how lucky I was based on their view from the surface – and I just nodded and agreed even though I was secretly begging for someone to ask me how I felt on the inside so I could maybe make sense of my feelings through a conversation with someone other than myself.    And in that same breath, I can also vividly remember times where I spent an entire phone call with a friend going on and on about something “surface” related… only to find out later that she had something important she really needed to talk about.  And I never opened up that door to let her do that.

But this is what we do!  We ask stuff like  “How’s work” and “How was your weekend” … and then we give surface-level answers of, “You know, the usual” even though we have a million things going on in our minds.  And the conversation’s over there.  A missed opportunity to connect.  A chance missed to go deeper into the stuff that matters.

Am I here to say that we can realistically have these kinds of conversations at every interaction? No. It’s not realistic. But we sure as hell can give ourselves more opportunities to make those connections.   How do we do it?

We start asking better questions of our friends.  We start opening the door and letting them know that we are someone they can talk to.  We start answering other people’s “surface” level questions with more real answers to open up the dialogue about the important stuff.   We plan dinner nights with our spouses without the kids to open up conversation that’s deeper than “what do you want to watch on TV tonight?” We start being more honest about our own struggles to make our friends more comfortable to voice their own.   We plan coffee dates with friends where we both agree to keep kids and work off topic and talk more about life.   We strike up a conversation with that stranger Mom at the library after we apologize for our kid stealing a toy from her kid.

And most importantly – we stop making assumptions about people until we’ve done these things.

So the challenge is this:  when we find ourselves in a situation that we can really connect with someone ….  whether for the first time or the 50th time …  that we leave the comfort of the floating boat – and experience the fulfillment, the connection, the joy and the LIFE that happens when you choose to throw on the scuba gear.

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