.446 kiddie land

proof, she has a room. 

granted, it's like a playroom with a bed that's never slept in, but still.

(*note: except for naps. she'll take naps in her own room, even sleep a part of the night in there...just not the entire night)

 

  

made by my niece when toots was first born.

a distant cousin illustrated this book. 

a cousin who my mother supports every year at the CCP's book fair.

sierra (first born girl grand) has a signed copy and now so does, toots (last born girl grand).

eeek! i almost have a three year old...

.436 the creativity project :: holiday

creativity project theme...commercial style. 

  

(giggles)

she fell...then dramatically laid there and posed.

please visit a personal friend, my "blogger bestie" and next in our circle, becky, from life with kaishon. 

an amazing mother, photographer and blogger who is as beautifully expressive and artfully endearing

 as the moments, emotions and energy she captures in her portraits.

(pssst: join the fun and share your own holiday image on our facebook page!)

.155 day 137

the day after i get a sigh of relief. 

my eye is throbbing, looking up like bouts of torture sent to mock my otherwise awesome vision. outside of hospital visits, i'm home bound. it's peaceful...in a fearful, grateful, faith testing sort of way. 

i'm sitting in the middle room, which used to be the computer room, and is presently morphing into toots' play room. this bassinet used to be mines as a child. my cabbage patch kid, theresa cookie austin, slept in it, peacefully snuggled by my crayola themed bedside. i smile now. watching toots stand over it, shsshing me while her bald headed baby doll sleeps makes me giggle. a new toy inside a vintage one. i fill it up with all her teddy bears. partly out of my neurotic need for order (seriously, all these toys are the devil and this is just a quarter of the madness) and partly for this photo. i find the silver lining. loss of sight in one eye, leaves full sight in the other. and if i one day should loose sight in both, i still have full view to the memories of my yesterday...and the ones i'm creating...now.

.130 day 113

psa: i do not celebrate christmas.

this is not a stab at christianity as much as it's a personal decline to participate in western civilization's depiction of such. the tree, the lights, the santa, the elves, the reindeer, the snowman, it's all too much for me to wrap my mind around. i love imagination as much as the next being, but mass imagination has never been good. 

that being said, this hypocritical blog is fueled by the love of my mother, the memories of my childhood and being able to buy gifts for my own child unabashedly. i remember the excitement of being awakened by my older brother. of sneaking downstairs at the crack of dawn to find a bouquet of presents under the tree and a drained and sleeping mother on the couch. 

since kindergarden, i knew the truth (my brother made sure of that). knew that mom's hard work and intense love, bought those gifts to our home. and mom, a piscean baptist, made sure i knew my father's sacrifices, as well. that he, the piscean muslim, would donate his entire paycheck to her cause (never actively participating) but lovingly feigning surprise when i called to tell him all i'd gotten.

and now that he is gone, and i, my mother and child are leaning on each other so intensely, i've softened a bit. it's not that deep. my values are still in tact. my mother loves christmas. hasn't celebrated in years because she loves her children. but we needed a boost. a happy mix of nothingness. of pretty gifts and cinnamon scented candles. of awkward family moments and underlining love. we smiled. we laughed. we took turns playing with toots and picture taking. my mom seemed at peace. and for a while, so was té and i. we, the reproductive team of toots. we, the estranged, now struggling to close the gap, parental unit. we, who learned, that life happens even in the midst of fairy-tales. our story is a skewed one. nothing is as it seems. supernaturally -severed- but there is beauty in it's ugliness...

taken by té

this piano rocks. (a gift from her father)

taken by té

taken by té

taken by té