Well, 98% of these are photos of my kids, haha. Despite my indignant demands that they please stop, they're growing up before my very eyes. Each photo is a treasured souvenir of their smallness.

Looking back every year, I always realize how many photos I *didn't* get. Once-in-a-lifetime moments that I never want to forget – and I didn't take a picture. But I knew that feeling would come, and throughout the year, as I spent the majority of my creative energy in 2022 building a baby, I reminded myself that "to every thing there is a season." It was more of a season of mothering one within and three running around out here. 

Previous year-on-film posts:

More from 2022 right here...

3:17 am, as i nurse // jan 7, 2023

 Lit by one watt 

I try to archive your profile 
And make an extra copy for safekeeping somewhere in my brain 
The middle-of-the-night you, the tiny velvet person that no one else knows but me 
A hungry little fellow
Tiny and tired
Unbelievably soft and warm against the shelf of baby weight on my abdomen 

my baby
My baby 
My Baby 

I wish I could drink you down or fold you up and keep you forever

Please Lord, let me keep an eight pound version of this little tiny person 
if I promise to bake birthday cakes and buy school shoes and practice driving
Could you just let me keep this 16 day old baby 
For just a little longer?

Your tiny heaviness 
Tucked under my chin 
Stubborn burp refusing to bubble up before i lay you back down 
Oh what I would give if I could bottle this 
I’d put it in a snow globe 
And take it down from the shelf whenever I needed to a sprinkle of the sparkly dark exhausting sacred season 
so warm 
And wondrous
And wiggly
And helpless 
And shiny
And tiny 
you are 

10 day countdown // 12/9/22

 this morning i 
woke up different
new born

fresh off the high of last night
a rainbow of carbs over Spode and the tightest bump-side-hugs
spoiled beyond words by 12 angel sisters i don't deserve

then this morning
there was a newness
a christmas cactus blooming in the back of my mind
a yes energy,
we're-having-a-baby-energy –

after finishing the math homework and sending the people to school –

i brewed red raspberry leaf tea 
and ate three dates
while nate 
pumped up the birth ball
(on which i am bouncing as i type)
we talked about names
i ate three more dates
walked about 20 laps around the family room
re-read the paper by dr. greger on dates for shorter labor

10 days left
there's something about that visual that makes me feel
and ready
and capable
we're having a baby.
we're having a baby!

we know the name of this baby

we're manifesting a good birthday

and it won't be long now





the roses // manhattan beach, ca // oct 2022

the henriods // manhattan beach, ca // oct 2022

the howes // manhattan beach, ca // oct 2022


all the other kids

monday morning
halloween parade at the elementary school

charlie and i made our way up the street to the side gate where the kids, teachers, administrators, and parents were assembled for the costume parade. 

it was open. 

halloween: a day that is 100% about fun, childhood, and making memories. and all i could think about as i entered the campus was that anyone could walk through the gate and shoot at us. 

i didn't rush or panic, but the thought entered my head and stayed there throughout the procession. i spotted eleanor first and calmly thought, "there are too many people between us for me to protect her if a shooter came in through the west gate. but at least i know where she is." i was able to catch her eye and wave so she'd know i was there. she was thrilled i'd made it as i promised. i couldn't see lucy; as it turned out, her class was just a few feet away from me to my right and invisible from where i stood among the many parent spectators. i watched her excitedly (and bashfully) circle the track with her class, scanning every adult in the crowd, looking for her mom. when she finally found my face, hers lit up. my mom is here. she came to see me in my dragon costume in the parade. she really showed up. 

for a few seconds, i forgot about the shooter. it was just me and Lu there, elated we found each other. every sparkle of hope within both of us – that the other would be there, that we'd find each other – washed over me. 

then she returned to her class spot and i made a mental note that she was nearby. in my head i let the scene unfold: the sound of a gun, pandemonium, my immediate instinct to get as close to the girls as possible, throwing my body over theirs, and ordering them to play dead. charlie was already in my arms so i wouldn't have to worry about him getting lost in the chaos. beyond stationing myself as close to them as i could, i had no real plan. it occurs to me that the school didn't either. and why should we? is it our job to metabolize our trauma and develop a system of defense from an enemy that we are desperately trying not to go to war with?

strangely, as charlie and i left the school, i felt completely calm, which makes little sense. but then what about the american culture of school shootings does? i guess there's no more appropriate time for me to have had this silent nightmare than the holiday we've collectively dedicated to celebrating the frightening, the fearsome, the gory.