Mae

This shot, this moment is why I love photography. This is baby Mae (cutest name, right?), most charming baby in the universe. And she has a lovely mama who obviously adores her. This is what it's all about, people.

Tis the season to be grateful

This picture was taken by Anna about 4 seconds after Eva and I rolled out of bed...thus, the awesome bed head. We decided to wait for Anna outside on the porch and did our very best to keep bundled...thus, the two headed monster.

In this moment, I am grateful for Eva who is sitting on the other side of the couch eating strawberries, periodically leaning over to ask me to bite off the 'green trees' so she can enjoy them sans stem.

I'm grateful for the baby I haven't met yet who is stretching his/her rump up into my right rib cage. I'm also grateful that there are only four weeks until our introduction.

I'm grateful for my husband who is upstairs riding the bike trainer I got him for his birthday while watching season 1 of Arrested Development. The idea is to have some form of exercise at our fingertips when we're likely not to leave the house until mid March. On second thought, perhaps it wasn't especially wise to choose a form of exercise requiring me to straddle a bike seat after giving birth.

I'm not grateful for bike seats.

Sneak preview

I've been dying to write about my carpenter, Tim (his real name is J. Timian, space ranger). He's been here for 2 1/2 weeks, today being his last day and a very sad day for me. No joke, homey is hilarious and, truth be told, I love having him around. While he's working, he talks to himself in various accents and curses under his breath like a drunk sailor on leave in the Old Port. Let's just say, it's been an education for miss Eva. I asked Ferris if we could put him on retainer to which he responded, "Do you have a trust fund I don't know about?"

I'll write more about the project when it's finished, but those of you who knew what we started with will die when you see these pics. We are, as they say, transforming. And with this project nearly finished, the nesting will commence.

P.S. JT asked me, rather demanded that I not post a picture of him with his homeless beard, but I think that's all part of the fun.

At least I wasn't the oldest person there

The sweetest turd in the world is very busy this afternoon not taking her nap. Seriously, folks. This is not a good time to go back to the no napping. Mama is 35 weeks and in need of a major snoozer. Eva? She would rather do anything in the world than rest, including eat her broccoli. At least I can get some satisfaction from that. My Mother the Prude said I stopped napping before I was 2. Forget about marrying a Catholic or moving across the country. No naps at 2 has to be the most brutal thing I've ever done to her.

As for New Moon, let's discuss.

I loved it simply because it demands to be loved. Jacob was so hot, at one point I thought I would hyperventilate...me, and all the other 15 year old, pimple-faced tweens who bought tickets a week in advance and stood in line to get into the theater. The last time I stood in line for a movie was to see the final Hobbit movie at the historic Cinerama in Seattle...a very worthy and respectable event. New Moon at the Cinemagic in Westbrook? Not so much.

But we don't care about that, right?

Edward looked terrible which I totally dug because it gave us the chance to fall in love with Jacob, very suitable in relation to the second novel. I would have liked to see more dialogue, like in Twilight, to explain more about all the cool stuff that happens to Jacob when he becomes a werewolf. The whole thing seemed a bit stilted in terms of really getting into the characters like in the book.

That said, I thought it was totally playful and visually appealing and worth every single second of escape into their world.

A collection of collectables

It's Friday, which means I'm running on vapors. Happy vapors but vapors nonetheless. We're doing some construction on the house in preparation for the baby, and just for fun we added the painting of most of our downstairs. My house is in utter disarray, and, miraculously, I seem to be coping. Our carpenter and dear friend (who I'll be featuring next week) is kicking some serious ass, making our house look even more beautiful than I imagined. Perhaps that's what makes the dealing so much easier.

In honor of a happy and vapor-filled day, I've decided to have fun with this post. Mind over matter, kids.

Chookooloonks posted a list of things she collects. Here's my list of 5:

1. I love skirts. I have a million of them. It has something to do with whimsy but more to do with the proportion of my ass and its inability to find good-fitting pants.

2. Wine goblets. I go to the Goodwill and buy hoards of goblets to use as votives. They're a beautiful and unexpected way to set the mood.

3. I've recently started collecting interesting teas. I'm a coffee girl, but something about this pregnancy is demanding several cups per day. Traditional Medicinals has a radical Pregnancy Tea that's rocking my world.

4. Pictures of water. They can be images I've taken or art I've collected over the years, but it's been brought to my attention that much of my work and the work I collect has an element of water in it. There must be something in my soul that requires fluidity.

5. Earrings. I hesitated putting this on the list because it seems sort of cliche, but I couldn't consider myself an honest person if I excluded my massive collection of enormous earrings. The bigger, the more colorful, the more outrageous, the more offensive, the better. I'm totally content to leave the house without combing my hair or brushing my teeth, but you will NEVER see me out and about without earrings.

We also need to talk about New Moon which is released nationwide today. The Times did a fairly cheeky review here. And you best believe I preordered my tickets and will be attending the movie this evening. If you're planning to see the movie as well, please oh please come back and tell me what you think.

Happy weekend, everyone.

34 weeks and measuring 36

Yesterday afternoon, my doctor placed her hands all around my belly...pushing a little here, feeling the baby kick over there. Finally, she said, "Yep, there's quite a bit of fluid in there, and that's not a small baby." She offered an ultrasound but said it wouldn't tell us much. It might even give us unnecessary reason for concern. I was right there with her and happily declined. If there's a giant baby (oxymoron?) in there, I absolutely positively DO NOT WANT TO KNOW. My vaginal canal shudders just thinking about it.

Last Friday, I slithered down the stairs after putting Eva to bed. That little turd finally allowed me to snuggle her to sleep without weeping and wailing for DADDY. I waddled into the living room just as Ferris looked up and stared for a few seconds too long.

"What?"

"You look...how should I put this? You look like death."

"Nice."

"Seriously, you've never looked worse."And just as I was about to lose myself in a fit of tears, Ferris walked over to me, rubbed his hand up and down my back, and said, "I promise I will never do this to you again. Now go to bed...I won't take no for an answer."

I wanted to be mad at him for his seemingly insensitive remarks, but he wasn't telling me anything I wasn't already feeling. In fact his honesty, delivered as lovingly as possible, was somehow comforting...a relief and validation. He got it...just how much work this whole baby making thing can be. Only your most intimate partner can tell you the truth and live to tell the story.

I slept for 12 hours straight.

Open and Shut

Did you guys know that when you're not running around like a chicken with your head cut off, there are lots more hours in the day? I swear it. With the show done and a 'last day of work' scheduled for Dec 18th, I've noticed an enormous leap in the amount of time...TIME, PEOPLE...in the day. There's time for walks and baking and vacuuming and laundry. There's even time for, uhhum. Unbe-FRIGGIN-lievable.

The show went really well. There were hoards of people there which is always a bit overwhelming, but lots of my folks showed up. It makes it so much easier to see familiar faces in a crowded room. I talk about my peeps all the time. My peeps are my family who mean the world to me. Old peeps, new peeps, anonymous peeps. Perhaps that's why I love blogging so much. I'm connected to you, more of my peeps, who help sustain what I love to do. And I get to peek in on your lives to see what sustains you. In all seriousness, every single comment (even the not nice ones) mean a great deal to me. I read everything and notice everyone. Blogging and photography keep me connected and fulfilled.

About the show...it's taken a while for me to formulate how I really feel about it. A number of people commented that my work has progressed and seemed fuller. I don't disagree, but I can't say that I'm fully content with the way things turned out. I'm more than happy given the lack of time and energy I had to prepare. The collection was beautiful, but it left me wanting. The whole show left me with the feeling that there's so much more I could do. I think about making a book, cards, a calendar, or perhaps selling my prints online. More than anything, I know I have better work still to come. Creating beautiful work takes time and a full investment. I'm looking forward to next year when I plan to make that investment happen.

I'm fulfilled. I'm inspired. I want more.

Yesterday morning, I met my dear friends at my studio for a family photo session. The image above was taken from my studio window just before they showed up. Just imagine walking on the sidewalk below, watching my swollen ass teeter out a 5th story window! When I talk about family, I'm talking about these people. Lindsay was my doula when Eva was born and will be with me when the next little one decides to make an entrance. Ted was a resident with Ferris which means we all held on to to each other for dear life for the entire four years. And those sweet babies, Layla and Simon, could possibly be the cutest little chunka monkas I've ever seen.

Josh Ritter, Idaho

I'll be back to talk about the show in a minute. Until then, please enjoy my new flavor.

Idaho - Josh Ritter

Mamaletter: 30 months

Dear Eva,

I need to start by informing you that you're currently in one of the best stages of your life. I would also like to mention that a few months ago, you were in the absolute worst stage of your life. Over the 2 1/2 years we've been hanging out, you've taught us one very significant truth. You feel things very deeply, and you experience things to their absolute fullest. When you feel good and happy, life couldn't be any better. When you feel bad and frustrated, life could not be any worse. Aaaaaaannnnnnd, you let us know about it...one way or the other. You don't want to take your PJs off? A simple 'no thank you' would suffice, but, instead, you often choose to flail your body on the ground, kicking and screaming as if your daddy or I had just informed you that Dora and Elmo are dead. In other words, you would rather impale your eyes with a used Q-tip than take off your PJs. We get it.

Sometimes I think the rough spots happen right before you're about to go through a major developmental break through. It's an unraveling of sorts...a regression that gives way to something bigger and better. No doubt, you experience frustration because you WANT to do something your brain or your body can't quite accomplish. But when things happen, you turn into the most delightfully happy child the world has ever known. Your language, for example has exploded. Nanny came to visit last week, and when she rested next to you the night before she left she said, "Eva, I'm going to miss you. I have to go to Idaho in the morning." To which you replied, "That's ok. Eva go with you. Go in a boat. Mama and Dadda and Jackson go with you to Idaho in a boat." Yes, my love, we'll all need a boat to get us around with the amount of tears you elicit from the people who love you.

And, then, there was Halloween. Grandma has a serious obsession with this holiday, her very favorite of all the gifting holidays. She gave you the most radical lion costume which you wore as often as we would allow. In fact, you and your daddy ran in a race with you as a lion and your daddy as the lion tamer (the race you, as a chicken, and I ran last year). Appropriately so, you both won the award for best costume.

We should definitely discuss your budding attachment to your daddy. You two have developed something fierce that's not to be messed with. Daddy needs to put you to bed every night without exception. Since you transitioned into your 'big girl bed', you sometimes wake up in the middle of the night demanding to sleep in 'daddy's bed'. Several months ago, your daddy would have never allowed this, but lately he seems to need you just as much as you need him. When we all wake up in the morning, you open your eyes, tap your daddy or me on the forehead and say, "Mama/Dadda, I love you." There is nothing, nothing in the world, I'd rather hear than you saying those words.

You've probably already noticed, but something very peculiar is happening inside my belly. We talk all the time about the baby. You've even felt the baby move, which elicits a cacophony of giggles, but I'm pretty sure you haven't figured out that soon the baby will be in our home and no longer in my belly. My sweet love, I imagine you'll be totally enamored with the new creature for a while, but I also imagine it will be a difficult transition for you. There will be some major changes and adjustments required of you, all of which your daddy and I will try our best to ease you through. Please know that you'll always be my special little one.

There will inevitably be some difficult transitions, but I can't imagine a sweeter, more loving, more dynamic big sister than you. You, my love, are the reason your daddy and I decided to have another baby. You, my love, have made everything in our world brighter and bigger and full of everything good. I want more of that. I want more of you. I cannot wait for you to meet your new baby sister or brother because there is no doubt you will teach us all just how magnificent love can be.

Love,

Mama

Around the horn, so to speak

Today's post is going to be a little scattered, partially because there are a number of things to talk about and partially because my brain is fried and I'm battling another cold. The latter of which was brought to you by the lovely cold season germs from Little School.

The show last Friday was fabulously surreal to say the least. I'll need a bit more time to digest the whole thing and will write all about it soon.

I'm so happy to announce that Kathleen of Mamas Always Write has recently taken a job as the Portland Motherhood Examiner. She wrote a piece about me, ta-da, and several other pieces here. Check back often. She's the best.

I've recently been introduced to a kick ass blog, Bitches on a Budget. It's a book (soon to be published) with a TV show in the works and they recently wrote a piece about motherhood which included a little diddy about me. Check it out over here.

Every year, I donate a photo session to Eva's school for their silent auction. A very sweet family bid for me, and I'm posting a few shots of a photo shoot we did last Sunday morning. It was my first time trying to get two parents, a 4 year old, and a 1 year old to look at the camera (all smiling charmingly) at the same time. It was like herding cats, but I managed to get a few sweet shots.

Cheeser, if you please

Now, if that doesn't look like the face of a successful artist (bust out your checkbooks, ladies and gentlemen), I don't know what does. Don't tell my social work boss, but I skipped out on the last hour of work this afternoon to dot my I's and cross my T's at the gallery. You guys, I'm totally proud of this show.

Ferris (dear, lovable, lover Ferris) hung the show with the help of J. Timian on Sunday. Luckily, I had the topography laid out before Eva lost it. With each piece where it needed to be, Ferris was able to get things on the wall so I could take the sick one home for a nap. This afternoon was spent tweaking the lighting, placing tags, and hanging the Artist Statement. It looks great, if I don't say so myself.

I've approached things a little differently this time. Having never hung a solo show, I spent much of the last show hanging things I thought would sell. I was a bit more concerned with producing stuff that would be accepted in the art world. This time around, I've taken a greater creative hand and hung stuff I love, stuff that means a great deal to me. There's a series from the street I grew up on in Pocasmello and a series from Portland. I also experimented with diptychs, combining images in a way that is totally inspiring to me. It's supposed to be playful and challenging...maybe even a little joyful.

I hope to see you there. If you live in the area, please feel free to come and introduce yourself. I would love to meet you.

Color and Contrast

Opening November 6th, 5-8pm

Exhibiting through Nov 28th

The Gallery at Harmon's and Barton's

584 Congress Street - 2nd Floor
Portland, ME

32 weeks

For the record, I think this pose is hilarious. I usually take 5-10 shots and pick the one that looks the least ridiculous. I had my eye on a different image, but Ferris insisted I use this one. His reasoning? He said I look feisty.

I love that man.

Everything is going well, other than the 3 gallons of trapped gas I'm holding behind the creature. I seriously think I'm measuring big because I haven't been able to fart adequately since I peed on the stick. Just imagine experiencing non-stop, epic fart pressure for 32 weeks without the ability to do anything about it. AND BELIEVE ME, I've tried. I drink the special tea, I lay on my left side, I assume the fart position (downward dog with your tush in the air), I pray to the virgin Mary who you'd think would have some empathy. I'm being serious. All you free farters enjoying your luxurious free farting can sit on it and spin.

In other news.

Question 1 failed, and the people's veto prevailed. The gays lost, we lost, people suck.

Grumble.

Update: If you're interested, Time Mag has a pretty good article about the whole shabang over here.

Happy voting day, my peeps

It's voting day, so I've decided to piss off half of my readers by discussing the current situation in Maine, Question 1. Mainers know what I'm talking about and probably already know what I'm about to say. For the lovely others, Question 1 is our marriage equality bill. In other words, it's the gay marriage bill. The bill was passed by the Maine legislature, signed in by our Catholic Governor, and is now up for ratification or veto by popular vote. I'll try to make this short and sweet.

Let me start by saying this.

I'm not all that pissed about what happened in California with Prop 8. While I still believe most of the opposition was based on fear and discrimination, I understand the people who opposed it because of language. It didn't explicitly protect everyone (i.e. clergy who would refuse to marry a gay couple). That is exactly why I support this bill. It's about upholding equality and the protection of personal rights for everyone. The language, as taken directly from the Maine Citizen's Guide, is as follows:

Marriage is the legally recognized union of 2 people. Gender-specific terms relating to the marital relationship or familial relationships, including, but not limited to, "spouse," "family," "marriage," "immediate family," "dependent," "next of kin," "bride," "groom," "husband," "wife," "widow" and "widower," must be construed to be gender-neutral for all purposes throughout the law, whether in the context of statute, administrative or court rule, policy, common law or any other source of civil law. This Part does not authorize any court or other state or local governmental body, entity, agency or commission to compel, prevent or interfere in any way with any religious institution's religious doctrine, policy, teaching or solemnization of marriage within that particular religious faith's tradition as guaranteed by the Maine Constitution, Article 1, Section 3 or the First Amendment of the United States Constitution. A person authorized to join persons in marriage and who fails or refuses to join persons in marriage is not subject to any fine or other penalty for such failure or refusal.

Each time I pass the 'Yes on 1' people (meaning, people who want to deny marriage equality) waiving their signs on Forest and Marginal Way, I want to barf out my car window. I support their right to picket, but I can't help but wonder what's so scary about gay marriage. When everyone's rights are protected, what's the big whoop? As a hetero spouse and family member, I think giving everyone the right to marry (aka, solidify families) only serves to strengthen our communities.

People often have trouble with the word 'marriage' and think gay couples should be content with civil unions. Here's the problem with that. Civil unions are 'separate but equal' and don't receive the same legal protection as marriages, especially if you have a conservative judge. We're talking about children being taken away from a (gay) parent if a judge doesn't recognize the union. It brakes my heart in a thousand different pieces to think of that happening. I try to imagine if I were in a gay civil union and lost my spouse through death or divorce. A judge could potentially deem that I wasn't considered a parent because my spouse was the adoptive parent. Besides living in constant fear, I would go batshit crazy if I lost my kids. You would have to lock me up and plug in an IV of your strongest sedatives. I would be homicidal.

And that shit happens every day.

The bottom line is this. Any time a family can remain together or a couple can stabilize and solidify their commitment, everyone wins. It's about love, people. L-to the-O-to the-VE. Love.

The most beautiful girl I've ever seen with a kabob

Because my brain is still mush...because I'm not sleeping well...because Eva has a fever and a croupy cough...because we must have a follow up to the ever popular Business Time, I give you this.

Special thanks to J. Timian, homey of all homeys. Word.

A slight disruption in our regularly scheduled program

I'm a strong believer that the human brain has finite capacity, meaning it's only possible to deal with a limited amount of stuff at any given time. Ladies and gentlemen, we have officially hit capacity here at The Letter's Edge.

I'm dealing with a little bit of this and a little bit of that. There's nothing to be super worried about accept the show. I'm nervous and excited, so much so that I can't concentrate on anything else.

I'm completely incapable of anything substantial, so I decided to make these cookies. Amy, my dear. Those bitches are every bit as delectable as you said. Every. Single. Bit. Thank you for supporting my body's effort to double in size over the next 9 weeks.

I'm still enjoying date night. Truthfully, I'm finding it difficult to sit in a theater or restaurant seat with the least bit of comfort, but time with Ferris is just as delectable as Amy's cookies. To celebrate, I offer an encore presentation of...