i loved you when

 when you bought me flowers after the baby's circumcision
when you said, "you're doing great babe" – all 1,099 times
when i saw this dorky greeting card in cvs
when i got my film back and that photo of you kissing the baby 
when you brought me tea during zoom therapy
when you changed the channel because there was a joke about eating disorders

the children in this house

in this house there are children i don't know
i spend endless afternoons
between half-unpacked bags of groceries
and paused bluey episodes
mastering you
studying and squeezing and memorizing you
and then you wake up

you mick
you graduated from the swaddle, you want your arms free
quietly left newbornhood, rolled over, smiled at me, not sorry for getting big 
my brilliant bubble of a boy, a rainbow, a sudsy mouth with a bursty laugh
but i'll keep putting you to bed in here by me

and you lucy 
you draw peace signs on everything, sign every picture "L.S.S."
you never run, always totter
a mysterious blonde wisp, accessorized like phoebe from friends
can you teach me to sew mama? can i do gymnastics class mama?
but you know fairies are real

and you eleanor
eleanor PI, open for business
interested, interesting
bollypop, bossypants
the latest career consideration: public defender, what could be better for you?
getting the hang of the layers beneath a wink
but you still want to hold hands on the couch

and you charlie
grandmom taught you the word "relentless" 
you stand your ground like the family prizefighter
"wow mom you look beautifuller than ever in that shirt!"
batting left, fielding right
a speckle of freckles
but your cheeks and lips are still puffy with pre-covid baby fat

three and a half years in this house
hiding, seeking, sleeping, fighting, righting, calming, 
bathing, losing, finding, wondering, thundering, stumbling, 
sailing, praying, staying
in this house

march + april film // 2023

Spring is here and we are full of cheer. 
The reinvigoration of my double exposure series, Mirror Blossoms!
Eleanor reads to Mick!
Lucy at soccer!
Charlie at the farm! 
All photos shot on Portra 160 film through my Canon EOS 3. 

dream job

how much does a sink full of dishes weigh?
eternal clutter
a home exalted to the highest degree of clutter
crushing pressure
make things special
make the house a home
cleanliness, godliness
teach these magical banshees everything they need to know...


dropping the kids off at school this morning felt wrong. like i was bubbling in B on a scantron but i knew the answer was C. my body was screaming at me, "take them home. it's not safe here. don't leave them here. why are you doing this? stop. keep them with you. stop!!"

but if i kept them home, i would have had to tell them why, and i can't place that burden on them.

i said goodbye 2 hours and 26 minutes ago. as far as i know, my children are still alive.

as i drove away from the girls' school, i watched them. watching their shadows, slowly spinning around and noticing the long shapes in the morning light. i studied their floppy pink and purple backpacks they each picked out the summer before kindergarten. i wondered if this was the last moment i'll ever see them alive. not in a hypothetical way. in a real way. in my body, at this moment, i am housing the possibility of the flurry of texts with other moms, sirens blaring up my street, young blood splattered across the rainbow rug and the Important Person reports stapled to the walls of their small classrooms. this isn't an alex-specific nightmare. it's not a freak accident. it happened to hundreds of families YESTERDAY.

i should have taken a picture of them this morning.

here's a thought – and hear me out – 

fuck this.

lazy b // feb 2022

Duncan, AZ
Feb 2022
The kids and I road tripped from LA to the Lazy B solo for the first time. As always, our time on the ranch was magical, surreal, and unforgettable. I'm super proud of all of them for riding horses – thanks to Kristen and David – and especially proud of Lu who fell off her horse and, after a big hug, got right back on. I love my little Sorensen kids! 
All shot on Portra 160 on my Canon EOS 3. More here:

im sorry my son

10:16 pm

Today was the first day
That I didn’t nurse you

It will haunt me for a long time
That I gave up – right? I did, didn’t I?

If I had just tried harder
Sacrificed a little more
Slept less
Pumped more
Maybe it would have been enough

I hate whatever part of me said “it’s too hard”
I’m embarrassed
I’m sorry
I’m so sorry
For robbing the poor to feed to rich

But my son I promise
To give you every drop of
I’ll mix it in with each scoop of formula
I know it’s not as good but
I know what I can’t do
Breastfeeding is an alchemy that might as well be
no matter how hard I try
I still —

I’m sorry

I’ll always wish I could have kept going
I’m haunted by my reasons for stopping
Maybe they aren’t good enough

But I hope I
will be

I have cried so many tears and I will cry liters more as those sacred days of feeding you fade farther and farther out of our life. The aching is overwhelming, it feels like being stuck in the ocean and not being confident enough to swim back in, but also being too tired to stay out in the water. My whole body is crying, this kind of heartbreak is worse than any cheating boyfriend, because it’s you my son


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