Project 52: Week Two

It's Week Two of Project 52 and this week's theme is "A Day in the Life".  Here is my submission, titled "Potty Talk", which features the boys teaching other to make fart noises.

This theme was a challenge for me, but it came at the perfect time. 

First, there was the technical side of things. It forced me to photograph indoors, which can be difficult for me. My house is charming, but older and somewhat cave-like when it comes to natural light. I don't have the soaring ceilings, bay windows, and skylights that bathe newer homes in dreamy sunlight.  And, it's never clean enough. Most rooms tend to be scattered, messy, and just visually distracting. You know how they say the camera adds 10 pounds? Well I also think it adds 10 inches of clutter. The layout does me no artistic favors either. Tight hallways and narrow rooms often mean I can't find the space to set up the composition I'd like and I find myself struggling to capture interesting perspectives.

Setting aside the logistical obstacles, the theme was also an issue. A Day in the Life. My life plain sucked this week. It was my husband's first week back at evening law school after a lengthy holiday break, and the adjustment is always hard on all of us. 

My four year old stops sleeping.  He wakes around 3 or 4 am and often won't go back to sleep for love or money. This leaves us all tired and snappy, especially me. And he has a harder time at bedtime. He begs me to stay and snuggle longer and cries, telling me he doesn't want to go to sleep. I end up laying down with him much longer than I'd like to and it puts me behind on my evening chores. 

The dishes and laundry start piling up. And I have less help to conquer them. I try and steal a few daytime moments to tidy, but the boys are needier than normal. They fight over toys, over my attention, and over nothing. They forget how to play by themselves. I understand why. Their little world is askew and there is only one person that can help them find their footing again: me. But I feel ill equipped. I am tired, cranky, and overwhelmed. I fall short more than I'd like and far less than they deserve.

It's not exactly the type of week I'd like to remember, much less capture for posterity. But a challenge is a challenge, and I embraced it. To be true to the theme, I decided I wouldn't set up any opportunities for images. No staging. And I told myself I'd focus on the moments that frustrate me the most: the messiest, loudest, and toughest of the day. Then, I'd only minimally edit them to let our true, everyday life shine through. 

And you know what? They're beautiful. My children are beautiful. My home is a beautiful. And my life is beautiful. Not in spite of the chaos, but because of it. 

There's something about looking at a moment on film. All of the sudden I'm able to see the joy, beauty, and peace that all too often has escaped my notice in real life. 

Like how earnestly my son prays before a meal….The rest of dinner might have been filled with screaming boys, "no-feet-on-the-table" admonitions and sticky, messy fingers. But that moment was sincere and serene. 

Or how my boys' imaginations thrive in the bathtub. Most days it's too noisy, too messy, and too wet for me to notice. Today, I watched them create cities and destroy them….

Bake meals and offer to share them with me….

And surprisingly clean up after themselves, because I gave them the chance and space to do so.

I watched how much joy my son takes in getting dressed all by himself, something he couldn't accomplish just half a year ago.

And I admired how much concentration this seemingly simple task still takes him. And how faithfully and tirelessly he puts forth the effort to achieve it. 

Getting Evan up from a nap is always a drama. He's generally grumpy and typically thrilled at the prospect of a diaper change. 

I normally move through it as quickly as possible. But this day I lingered. And I was rewarded with a little song he sang to me as he played with his tiny toes.

And the sweetest little face I ever did see….those chunky cheeks and chubby arms! He is precious.

 Instead of overflowing laundry, I saw abundance.

And instead of being annoyed when Evan wanted to borrow my phone, I noticed the adorable curve of his cheek as he concentrates on finding his favorite song. (It's Beyonce by the way, always Beyonce.)

On Friday mornings, Evan is the only child in the home. The singleness of it is rare for him and he sometimes struggles to know what to do. But every now and then,  he wanders into MJ's room to enjoy the treasures of Big Brother's room. I normally leave him be, but this week I followed him.

And then again, as they played together for a rare moment in the afternoon.

Normally, I hate when they get into the crib together.  It usually means that MJ has broken a boundary and left his room to sneak into Evan's before independent playtime is over. Even if it's a permissible time of day, it's still noisy and dangerous. They jump and fall and wrestle. I worry it will break the crib, their heads, their bones – or all three. And MJ teaches Evan all kinds of valuable behavior, like how to attempt to crawl out of bed.

But this time, I only noticed how they were working together. How mischief and mayhem, as inconvenient as they may be for me, are the first dabs of glue that will bond them together as brothers for life.

And I loved the way they look at each other. The pure admiration of a little brother for his first hero. And the pride that an old brother takes in caring for and teaching the younger.

Yes, this challenge was exactly what I needed this week. Perspective, peace, and purpose. And a reason to slow down and observe the blessings in my life. As messy, loud, crazy, and stressful as it can be. Because it is mine. And I am grateful for it.