I was editing photos tonight at my kitchen table and I came across this image of a little boy from one of my last shoots in Vermont. It actually made me laugh out loud in delight. I love the shape of his head, his little neck, his stance. There was a storm that afternoon and it lingered on until sunset, but I know enough now not to cancel shoots, but to sit back and wait out the weather and the light until it gives me what I want. It doesn't always work out but it's worth taking the risk.
Of course this photo, taken in East Barnard Vermont, makes me very very homesick.
Today was a good day. I saw my doctor. I brought Olive along and made the mistake of bringing a wooden stacking toy which kept crashing onto the floor as she played, making a big racket. Next time I'll have to bring something plastic or plush. My doctor is completely captivated by Olive. She takes me very seriously and she will do anything she can to help me
Last night I typed out some details about my current pain crisis and sent it to her as a document. That way I don't have to say certain things out loud. They sound overly dramatic and I don't like talking about them, I feel almost disingenuous which is strange because it's all true. I still don't identify as a chronic pain patient even though I am one. Then again, I'm not sure anyone who hurts all the time thinks, "This is what I was meant to do! This is me!"
We talked about weaning Olive so that I could have more options for medicine. I asked my doctor if I could at least nurse Olive until she is one and she said, "It's up to you. Everything is up to you, you know."
This evening David and I fought over who got to snuggle Olive to sleep. We were sort of joking but we also both really wanted to. I held her for a little while but then handed her over, it's only fair because Dave works outside the home all day and misses her. I try and tell him that during the day she's just running around and I never get to just sit down and hold onto her, which is true, but it still sounded thin. She's only ten months old and she's wearing 18 month old pajamas, the only pair we could find amongst the hand-me-downs in the basement that came close to fitting her. It's a pink zip-up onesie with a white mouse on it. It's the sort of thing that looks really ugly and then you put her in it and realize it's cute.
We took a bath yesterday but I left my clothes on, which somehow seemed easier at the time. It turns out it wasn't the right choice, really.
This afternoon I had to email myself a few photos, and a second later I saw that I had a new email and I felt excited. But of course it was from me, I'd just sent it half a second later and already forgot.