Once Upon a Time, I began this blog as a daily photo project, with this:

What do you call your field of expertise, if you don't care for the term "homemaker", or "stay-at-home mother", or "domestic engineer"...? During a particularly bleak moment, I christened it Crap Management. At the entry level, this moniker is a fairly literal job description. The responsibilities expand, though, until the Manager is left holding a bag large enough to obscure all but traces of her former self. I'd like to redefine Crap Management. Let's consider it an effort to keep the crap at bay, to move on to what inspires...and leave the junk behind. With that in mind, I offer these photos. I hope to improve as a photographer. I hope I can capture ordinary moments that reveal joy, or tiny triumphs. I hope it doesn't get too boring. I hope you like them.

Over the course of two years, I reacquainted myself with an interest and art I had left behind in the all-consuming process of tending to a young family. Eventually, the daily-ness of blogging changed to sporadic, then random, and then quiet... I have moved on to new things, but I still have a warm spot for these imperfect images and words. Each photo takes me back to a moment, a clear memory of an event, an interaction, an expression, a feeling, that might have been lost to me without the visual bookmark. So, as I consider what is next for CM, I think I'll leave them right here.

Surf's Up?

I thought this would be a nice counterpoint to my last post... We may be itching to move on to winter activities, but some are still clinging to their fair-weather sports. Against all logic and reason, I might add...

As we stood a safe distance from the churning surf, the winds buffeted us from all directions, whipping our jackets and hair, and rattling our cameras. One mis-step, and we would have been like tumbleweeds, rolling through the parking lot, casting about for a "No Parking" sign to cling to...

OK, maybe that's a little over-dramatic. But, it was cold. And windy!

On Ice

After an unseasonably warm December, January brought our first real cold snap. Others may have complained about the frosty chill, but we were ready. Finally, the time had come!


Some of us wait all year for this. Planning, building, scheming...



Let the record show: The first skate of 2012 occurred at 8:45am on Thursday... just after the kids went off to school.

New Year, New Dog

Can you think of a better way to start off 2012 than with a brand-new puppy at your house? How about a twelve week-old, 25 pound, labrador-mastiff-giant schnauzer puppy? (We call that a Schnauzadorff, btw.) Wouldn't you love to have a pup who is mellow, and calm, and eager to please, and already housetrained? Especially if your home already contains three active little boys, toddler-size & up, wouldn't that be the best thing ever???

I think so.

My sister sure got lucky with this one!

A Sure Sign of Winter

Behold the Urban Park Squirrel! The boldest, quickest, most un-discerning eater running wild through your city. Tucking away some snacks for winter's depths is one thing, but he is making the most of any and all opportunities to pack away the calories right now. And it shows! He's not shy, that's for sure, and if he suspects you have entered his domain toting some tasty treats, he will scamper right up to you with a look that says:

"You gonna eat that?"

More Puppies!

I've been trying to come up with a way to ease back into the blogging routine -- a fabulous photo, or relevant premise, or something...

Failing that, I figure these pups are as good an excuse as any to jump back in. Señorita (above) and Victor (below) are looking for homes this holiday season... You can learn more about these and other dogs from Happy Dogs of New England.

One of the great things about working with a rescue organization like them is that they make sure all their dogs are up-to-date on vaccines, they spay/neuter, and otherwise confirm that the dog is in general good health before you take the pup home. Recently, someone close to me had a very unlucky adoption experience: the animal, from a private breeder, turned out to have a myriad of undisclosed health problems.

Now, I ask you: who wants to introduce a pet to a family of small children, only to remove it days later, with lingering concerns that it has infected the family with disease? Nevermind the question of how to tell the kids why their new puppy or kitty can't live with us anymore...

No, thanks!

So, just a word of warning... whether your next furry friend comes from a shelter, rescue or breeder, make sure he's been checked out by a veterinarian. And it's probably wise to ascertain that before you go visit the animal, because let's be honest -- once you meet them, they are hard to resist!

Awareness

(I had something else completely different in mind to to tell you about today, but then this came up...)

October being Breast Cancer Awareness Month, you have probably seen countless pink ribbons, adorning everything from shopping bags to newspapers to office supplies to bracelets and cereal boxes. You can even buy a Pink Ribbon bagel. There's so much pink out there, that by the end of the month, "awareness" looks more like a rose-colored marketing ploy than anything to do with a cure.

Five years ago, I visited a friend, who was waging her own breast cancer battle that October. We were chatting, and getting ready to walk down the street to see the house they had just bought, and were planning to renovate soon. It seemed like a huge undertaking to me at the time, with everything else going on, but I understood. It was the perfect size house for their family, close to schools, in the town she loved, with a bigger kitchen, and cozy den for the kids, and family dining room with pineapple-print wallpaper. They would be all set.

As we left the kitchen to grab our coats, she spied a pink bag of M&Ms on the counter. I had my three year-old in tow, and my friend offered her some candy, even though it was only 10am. I chuckled, and commented on how I'd never seen pink M&Ms before, and she replied, "Oh yes, it's pink everything in October..." Her tone wasn't harsh, but her eyes rolled. We both knew, but didn't say, that more pink wasn't going to help her get what she desperately needed: time.

Since then, I've found it hard to get on board the Pink Ribbon/Awareness bandwagon. My friend didn't need awareness, after all. She needed a cure.

So, I was surprised yesterday, when the Pink caught me off guard. I was taking photos at my son's cross country meet, and all the runners wore pink cards with the name of someone afflicted with breast cancer. Some survivors. Some not. I saw my friend's name. And I saw "Aunt Joan", and "Grandma", and "Mom."

It was a tough meet. The runners faced stiff competition. Everyone on the team came out to race, nobody held back in order to rest up for the Invitational later this week. And as the last regular meet of the season, everyone wanted to finish strong. In my viewfinder, the juxtaposition of grimaces on the boys' faces and names on the cards was striking.

Real "awareness" doesn't come from eating pink candy. That it comes to children, who witness their mothers' struggle with devastating illness, is a crying shame. Buying pink pens in October doesn't adequately pay tribute to anyone's battle. But the strength, determination and endurance I saw in that race was a fitting way to honor those women. In the grand scheme of things, running a 5k is a small gesture, but I liked that its meaning was writ large, on pink paper.

Picture Day

She got so tan this summer, I had to try to capture the glow before it faded. She was more than happy to oblige me...

First Meeet

Who is this kid?

It used to be that when he ran, I could catch him, and grab him up by his overall straps, and deposit him in another location.

Well, I can't catch him anymore. Not even close! And he won't wear overalls, either. I already asked...

But, I do get a kick out of watching him go.

And... They're Off!

After all the anticipation, this is how it goes:

The kids wait and watch, in their new shoes and backpacks, for the bus to arrive. All the parents are there, smiling bravely, cameras in hand. The bus is late to arrive, and tension builds... When the bus finally does pull up, the kids are more than ready to go, and breaking free of the hugs and kisses, sprint away. Parents are caught flat-footed, fumbling to get a photo before kids disappear into the bus, and trying to peer through the windows to see that their child has found a friend to sit next to.

And that's it. Nothing more to see here, folks. Nothing left to do but go home, have a little cry (admit it), and move on. By the end of the week, their departure will be the routine, somewhat harried event we can all relax and enjoy.

Summer's End

You can't say we didn't have a great summer.

As it winds to a close, though, I can't help but feel a little panicky. Did we forget anything? Did we do all the things we were supposed to do? Was it enriching enough? Was it relaxing enough? Did we go to the beach enough? Did we work enough? Did we sleep in enough? Did we eat outside enough...?

I know (since many of you have reminded me recently...) I haven't been updating this space enough. Sorry about that. I've been shooting all summer, maybe not every day, but regularly enough that there is plenty of photographic evidence of a summer well-spent. Which is a comfort, as the last days of summer slip away. The seasons seem to advance more quickly all the time, catching me unprepared, leaving me unsettled. At least the images stay put.

The end of summer/back to school interval is quite a loaded season, isn't it? There's panic. And a little sadness. Some anxiety. A smattering of relief. Happy anticipation. And gratitude.

Thanks for continuing to check in with me. Enjoy the long weekend, and I'll see you soon!

The Home Office

It's so close to being finished! Close enough that we've started moving our stuff - and taking calls - out there...

Helado

Ice cream every day -- sometimes twice a day -- may seem overly indulgent. But, when you have to order in Spanish... that's educational!

For Starters

Where have I been? Here are a few hints...

There were gambas...

and paella...

beautiful sights to see...

a new sea to dip our toes in...

and a fiesta every night!
















We were incredibly fortunate to be able to take this trip to Spain with the kids this summer. Especially as they get older, and we realize that their summers won't always be spent with us, I'm so glad we carved out some time for these adventures.

More to come...

Vacation

It's been a while since we had a chance to catch up! Lots has been going on over here, and even though I've been out of touch, you've been on my mind...

Vroom!

Trying not to let another week of rain drive me crazy...

Sandbox Season Opener

I don't know about you, but I'm ready for the new season to begin...

His Story

The news broke late last night, and just as we were reaching for the remote control to shut off the television, we were drawn in again. Prince Firstly was with us, and unlike ten years ago, we made no attempts this time to shield him from the details of current events.

Back on September 11, 2001, he was not yet seven years old. The news and images at the time were beyond horrifying, incomprehensibly tragic, and not suitable viewing for a first-grader, we felt. I asked him last night if he remembers that day, and he nodded. Of course, he didn't fully understand what was happening at the time, but as he grew older, the pieces came together. He recalled that each update of his maturing knowledge of history had the same ending: "The person responsible is still out there. We haven't caught him."

His recollection was chilling. For a child to understand the world through the prism of 9/11 seems like a horrible theft of innocence. That justice isn't always neat and swift is an unsettling realization to take on board, even as an adult. As a child, for whom fair play and rule-abiding are constant lessons, it must be disturbing on a most basic level.

I don't think much will change as a result of Osama bin Laden's death. The world is different now, and there will be no going back to the way things used to be. Our children won't have the carefree and secure experience of the world that we did. But, I am glad to see one more revision to the story they will learn.

2011 Boston Marathon

We saw it all on Heartbreak Hill today...




The athletes were tough.


They were jubilant.


They were weary.


The fans were so supportive...

...and encouraging.


And there was a little bit of crazy mixed in, too...









(Photo credit: Prince Firstly)
To top it off, there was my brother, in his third appearance at the Boston Marathon, running to raise funds for the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. We couldn't be prouder. He has raised over $30,000 for the fight against cancer, and he has shaved over an hour from his first marathon time with this year's finish. Way to go, Bill!

Runaway Success

Several weeks ago, in a rare moment of inspiration, I think I did a good thing.

Mother-adolescent daughter relationships being what they are, ours had hit a familiar groove. Nothing terrible, just the requisite, garden-variety, independence-asserting, frequently huffy, often exasperating, middle child, hormones x 2 (hers and mine), groove.

We needed to break out of that rut, and find a new way to connect. A way that didn't involve me asking, "Did you clean your room?", or her declaring, "(Insert name/object/activity here) is annoying."

What could we do, together, that didn't put me "in charge"? Something that we could enjoy, together, and on equal footing. Maybe a goal - besides tidy bedrooms - that we could work towards? Something active? Lord knows, I could use more of that myself...

Just as I was pondering, a friend mentioned that she has begun to train for a 5k run. And she had come across an online training program that started out with baby steps, and gradually worked you up to running for 30 minutes. In a row.

Initially, I dismissed the idea for myself. To the tiny extent that I was ever a "runner", I abandoned that lifestyle several years ago in favor of walking. Walking briskly - I bet I walk faster than anyone you know - but not running.

The idea kept nagging at me, though. In many ways, it was perfect for me & my girl. We would both start at ground zero. It was goal-oriented. We could encourage each other, and work together. It was a few days per week, and we could fit it in before her little sister came home from school...

Well, long story short, she was willing to give it a try, and we began. Not every day has been easy, and we are still working towards that 5k. But, every day has been good, even when they start out annoying. There have been a few times that I have cajoled her into her sneakers & out the door... or huffed & puffed encouraging words as we stumbled through our running intervals... And every time, when we are done, there are high-fives & hugs. And smiles. She is proud of her accomplishments and the progress we are making. And I am so proud of her.

The other day, the plan called for a 20 minute run. No stopping, no walking. We hadn't run that far before, and I was, honestly, a bit anxious. And when I tell you that she brought her "A-Game" on that day...? I mean: she carried me on that run. By the time we hit the 10-minute mark, my wagon was draggin'. But, she kept on chugging along, telling me, "You can do it, Mom", and "We got this", and "Don't forget to breathe", and "Five more minutes!"... I was keeping my head down, concentrating, but I could tell she was glancing over at me frequently, making sure I hadn't given up. As much as my lungs were protesting, and my legs became leaden, how could I stop, now that the tables had turned?

We got through it, no stopping. There are still a few more weeks left to train before we hit the 5k mark, but I think we're going to make it.