A September Morning

Early Sunday, around 10am, sunny and warm for a late September morning. I had just finished drinking my coffee when I asked the girls if they wanted to go out. We didn’t do much. The girls picked wildflowers (more like weeds) and ran in circles while I clicked away with my camera and smiled every time they found a flower. Nothing extraordinary or different from other random days; in fact, I had completely forgotten about that morning had it not been for the photographs. I was browsing my catalogue for the past few weeks and realized I had neglected some. All of a sudden the memories rushed back to me: their smiles, Lucía doing her silly dance, us running back indoors away from the mosquitos I thought had left along with summer. I know the girls won’t remember ordinary moments like those but I’m glad I can capture some of them; and even though I’m not in the actual images, they’ll know I was there all along… as I always will be.

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Week 38: Playground

"Portraits of my children every week, once a week, in 2014."

Project 52: Weeks 36 & 37

Week 36: Raining indoors and morning art.

Week 37: Loving the NYC skyline.

"Portraits of my children every week, once a week, in 2014."

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Week 35: Drawing with chalk.

"Portraits of my children every week, once a week, in 2014."

First Day

Her excitement and giggles made it impossible for me to take a photo. But she's smiling and happy and really, that's what counts. 

I had been dreading the first day of Pre-K since the moment Stella turned 4. The thought that I would have to leave her with people she was not familiar with for hours at a time did not sit well with my heart; especially considering how attached she had become some time before her fourth birthday. For weeks, I would bring up school into our conversations just so she would get used to the idea, perhaps get excited about it. Every time someone reminded her that she was going to start school soon, she’d turned her face the other way and ignore the conversation or would answer with a simple “No, I’m not going”. Period. She was not having it. 

She whispered in my ear one day that she didn’t want to go because she was afraid. I felt my heart sink and wished for a second that I could keep her home with me forever. I held her and promised everything would be ok. I told her there was nothing wrong with being afraid and that I, too, was afraid when I started school. 

Slowly but surely her attitude started to change and I noticed a few smiles when saying the forbidden word. Suddenly one day she asked if the teacher would teach her how to read. She finally decided to pick up the backpack I bought her weeks ago. Although she kept repeating she didn’t want to go, she became interested and started asking questions. 

When the day finally arrived she was happy, somewhat scared but happy. Maybe her happiness coincided with my mother being home this week but, nonetheless, she sang the whole ride to school and never stopped smiling. That was of course, until she realized it was time for me to go. She cried and refused to stay. I tried to be strong and not fall apart in front of her. After five or ten minutes of this, the teacher told me the longer I stayed the worst it would be. And I had to let go and leave my child crying in front of the classroom door. All this happening in front of my younger daughter who came along with us. I wiped my tears as I walked out the door without looking back. I felt an urge to walk back and peek through the window but rapidly changed my mind; it would’t be fair to let her see me again. After waiting ten minutes in the car I called the school to confirm she was Ok. Meanwhile, Lucia cried and kept repeating “I want Stella. Get Stella”. She had seen her sister cry and was concerned. I reassured her that we would return for her, that she was Ok.

After two hours and a half I returned to pick her up and there was my girl, all smiles. We had gotten through the day and it was all good. 

Our lives are changing. My girls are growing. And it is all happening too soon. 

34/52

Week 34: Jane's Carrousel

"Portraits of my children every week, once a week, in 2014."

Project 52: Weeks 32-33

Week 32: Enjoying the beach.  Week 33: Evening at the park.

"Portraits of my children every week, once a week, in 2014."

(taken with iPhone)

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Week 31: Summer fun.

"Portraits of my children every week, once a week, in 2014."

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Week 30: Admiring sunflowers and seashells. 

"Portraits of my children every week, once a week, in 2014."

Returning Home

(Post translated from by spanish blog: Regreso a casa.)

A few months ago I returned from Dominican Republic where I was on vacation. It’s difficult to describe what I feel towards my hometown. Although I miss it, it seems that as more time goes by, the more I distance myself from it. Maybe what I love is the memory of it, the high school and college years, the place it once was, the girl I was back then. 

As I left the airport with my parents, I had this strange feeling of not belonging, I was home and yet it didn’t feel like home. The city had changed since my last visit: on my way to my parent’s house I encountered a new highway, new cemetery, businesses and buildings that did not exist before. The city had grown, it seemed like another. I would’ve liked to roam the streets with my camera, return to the places I frequented once, reconcile my past with my present but I couldn’t get myself to do it. The sense of insecurity was stronger than the love I feel for this country. Perhaps I exaggerate and put much thought into it because of the violence I’ve heard of recently. It’s sad to know that I don’t feel the freedom and tranquility I did when I lived there as a teenager. Some people (like my mom) refuse to live afraid and don’t think much of the situation. And, yes, I get her point but it’s hard to accept these changes and when my heart is anchored to the past. 

Nowadays, when I’m in Santiago I enjoy it because my girls love it and are happy there. For them, it’s another world in which every day there is something new to be discovered and experienced, like pick mangoes from trees, play with chicks and fallen leaves, jump in puddles and watch their wet footprints magically appear on the cement, carry and chase my aunt’s dogs, jump over beach waves, help grandma take down clean laundry, eat breakfast outdoors and feed the parrot. Small and everyday things that is so much more appreciated after a long and brutal winter. 

Here, a few pics of our time there:

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Week 29: Sharing cookies.

"Portraits of my children every week, once a week, in 2014."

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Week 28: In the city.

"Portraits of my children once a week, every week, in 2014."

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Week 27: Eyelashes. 

"Portraits of my children once a week, every week, in 2014."

Fun day

"Today was a fun day!" Those were Stella's words as I started the car. We were about to head back home from the playground after a very long day. Several hours of our day were spent in that same car, driving around Manhattan, helping daddy out with work. Afterwards, we had a late lunch at an Italian restaurant where the girls ended up with pasta everywhere. I actually didn't mind the mess. In fact, I enjoyed watching them slurp spaghetti and untangle the long strings with their hands. They were so happy I could not help but watch and let them be. 

And so we went to the park. The idea was that I would have them accompany me while I played with my camera and the light, try to get as I could from the evening sun. Yeah.. that lasted about five minutes when I had to change plans and take them to the playground because my littlest was not in the mood for photos and the oldest wanted to be over with it as soon as possible. 

I managed to take a few pictures:

While at the playground, my little one yelled several times: "I'm brave", as she insisted on climbing a latter on her own. She refused to be held and so I stood behind her, every single time, ready in case she needed me. It's amazing how much she's grown, changed and learned in the past six months. Watching her, I was one proud mama.

If motherhood has taught me anything, it is that you can never really plan things. I mean, you can try (and you should otherwise there's no way of getting things done) but it's easier to expect them to change and just go with it. Sometimes it turns out for the best.

I Heart Faces Photo Challenge / Make a Splash!

Decided to join the fun and submit a photo for this challenge. This image came to mind as soon as I  read the theme. It's one of my favorite summer photos ever... The scraped elbow, the wet clothes, the warm sunlight and green grass. So much to love!