This was a weekend full of feelings. Good and bad and all points in between. As is my way, I only photographed the peaceful moments. The joyful ones. The one's worth remembering.
And those are still the moments I would like to focus on, but not acknowledging that there were other moments-- less joyful, less peaceful-- feels disingenuous. The days since coming home from New Orleans have been tiring. Alamae has not yet forgiven me for leaving her, so most days, today for instance, she won't allow anyone else to hold her. She won't let me put her down. She won't let me leave her sight. Sunday, I had a few hours of reprieve while at book club. The crowds of babies entertained her, and I was able to enjoy empty arms while perusing the giveaway piles and discussing one of my favorite book club selections to date. My Brilliant Friend captivated me and has me eager to read the rest of the series.
After scoring a nineties babydoll dress for Sena, a wooly brown sweater for Tom, and a stack of handmade pottery for myself, my friend Carrie and I drove the short way over to my sister Claire's house to drink more coffee and eat more sweets while Alamae and Arlo played outside.
When I tried to take a picture of my pregnant little sister pulling cinnamon buns out of the oven in her charming farmhouse kitchen, she forbade me from all photography and wouldn't let conversation resume until I put my camera away. You'll have to trust that her bare face and bright red hair was as sweet a sight as they come.