Solstice Baby: A Procrastinating Parent Posts for Father's Day
I thought about posted all week before Father's Day, even made this silly video about how great my husband is. Father's Day came, and many moments presented themselves for me to sit and write a blog, like a 'good blogger should', but I thought about what the day meant. I chose to be with family. The day came and passed and now I sit here, on the birthday of my first son, and know that it is all connected. It is not about the day, the trending holiday or noted celebration, it is all the time between the moments. The very reason I fell in love with candid Lifestyle Photography, so that I could learn to capture and keep those special moments forever. Becoming a parent changes you to your very core. Your priorities, your worries, your life goals and visions for the future all shift to something you couldn't even comprehend before. Children and parenthood changes you.
For some, it's like a burn. A chemical change, no going back, and they resent and even grieve the times before they were a constant care-giver. This was my mother. I told myself when I beat Ovarian Cancer that I would be the best mother in the world, or at least I could aim to be better than the mother I had. When I was told I couldn't get pregnant, that PCOS had 'won' and that I should just start thinking of 'another life' or adoption, I felt the sting and burn. Three years later, I would become pregnant (only after having my car towed, being accepted into a rigorous Master's program and having spent my savings to move across country and away from family), and again I would feel the burdens of parenthood. I went from being someone who lived out of my car and traveled the world at my every whim to someone who rarely left the safety of her winter oasis at home. Parenthood changed me.
As you watch your children grow, begin to worry and plan for their futures, experience judgement on a whole new level, you become aware that your own perception and role become very important. If you sit back and just let the shit build up, your body starts to resent you. My mother was an addict, someone who escaped, and motherhood confined her. Much like watching an episode of Naked and Afraid (only instead of 21 days it's for at least 18 years), you start to go crazy if you cannot keep yourself distracted and for some, those nights alone that require your absolute stillness are the Hell on Earth moments that drive you insane. You are forced to deal.
Your children help you evolve, help you think, help you learn your own identity. Your children teach you humor, selflessness and kindness. My children have taught me ample amounts about positive parenting because these were not interactions I had with my own mother; so often times, we are learning together. My husband, on the other hand, is naturally kind. Brandon had loving parents, who nurtured his talents and who taught him patience. He helps me take the time I need to deal with my stress and comforts me when I'm being too hard on myself. Brandon encourages conversations, explanations, and always ends the discussion with, "I love you." As we parent together, I'm always hoping I'm not the weakest link but also I'm letting go of my competitive drive and repeating, 'we're home-team together'. Our strengths as a family are what keep us strong and we learn together how to bring those out of one another. Home-team really has helped me to become the best version of myself.
That brings me to my first-born son, Stellan. A Solstice baby, Gemi-Can cusp sign who was born just after midnight. He was 21 inches, born on the 21st, and weighed a whopping 10lbs 11 ounces. He was special the moment I knew he was conceived and somehow manages to grow more special with each passing day. He has taught me surrender, revived my love for space, and after five years he is still someone who loves every living creature that crosses his path. He loves Orcas, Blue Whales, Giraffes and has a white wolf stuffed animal that he says is his totem. He dreams about scenarios that later come true and he dances with excitement each time he learns something new. His big brown eyes and soft features mimic his father and he definitely has Brandon's kindness. My cautious explorer, my 'peaceful uncertainty', my Junebug. I'm so thankful he chose me to be his mother and I cannot wait to see what future years have in store for us.
I love you to Jupiter and back.
For some, it's like a burn. A chemical change, no going back, and they resent and even grieve the times before they were a constant care-giver. This was my mother. I told myself when I beat Ovarian Cancer that I would be the best mother in the world, or at least I could aim to be better than the mother I had. When I was told I couldn't get pregnant, that PCOS had 'won' and that I should just start thinking of 'another life' or adoption, I felt the sting and burn. Three years later, I would become pregnant (only after having my car towed, being accepted into a rigorous Master's program and having spent my savings to move across country and away from family), and again I would feel the burdens of parenthood. I went from being someone who lived out of my car and traveled the world at my every whim to someone who rarely left the safety of her winter oasis at home. Parenthood changed me.
As you watch your children grow, begin to worry and plan for their futures, experience judgement on a whole new level, you become aware that your own perception and role become very important. If you sit back and just let the shit build up, your body starts to resent you. My mother was an addict, someone who escaped, and motherhood confined her. Much like watching an episode of Naked and Afraid (only instead of 21 days it's for at least 18 years), you start to go crazy if you cannot keep yourself distracted and for some, those nights alone that require your absolute stillness are the Hell on Earth moments that drive you insane. You are forced to deal.
Your children help you evolve, help you think, help you learn your own identity. Your children teach you humor, selflessness and kindness. My children have taught me ample amounts about positive parenting because these were not interactions I had with my own mother; so often times, we are learning together. My husband, on the other hand, is naturally kind. Brandon had loving parents, who nurtured his talents and who taught him patience. He helps me take the time I need to deal with my stress and comforts me when I'm being too hard on myself. Brandon encourages conversations, explanations, and always ends the discussion with, "I love you." As we parent together, I'm always hoping I'm not the weakest link but also I'm letting go of my competitive drive and repeating, 'we're home-team together'. Our strengths as a family are what keep us strong and we learn together how to bring those out of one another. Home-team really has helped me to become the best version of myself.
That brings me to my first-born son, Stellan. A Solstice baby, Gemi-Can cusp sign who was born just after midnight. He was 21 inches, born on the 21st, and weighed a whopping 10lbs 11 ounces. He was special the moment I knew he was conceived and somehow manages to grow more special with each passing day. He has taught me surrender, revived my love for space, and after five years he is still someone who loves every living creature that crosses his path. He loves Orcas, Blue Whales, Giraffes and has a white wolf stuffed animal that he says is his totem. He dreams about scenarios that later come true and he dances with excitement each time he learns something new. His big brown eyes and soft features mimic his father and he definitely has Brandon's kindness. My cautious explorer, my 'peaceful uncertainty', my Junebug. I'm so thankful he chose me to be his mother and I cannot wait to see what future years have in store for us.
I love you to Jupiter and back.
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