47/52

Tom:  Doing what boys do best - climbing up trees in their good clothes, when we go location scouting together.. note to self: put him in play clothes next time we go exploring

Gracie:  A little obsessed with those "flower thingy's you make to go on my head".. laying on the grass at the farm with Missy, whose little tummy is brimming with kittens.

Black and white. Ive said it before and I will say it again... I just love them. No colours to distract you, just the contrast of a monochromatic scene. The simplicity of it is beautiful.

After 7 weeks of pure mayhem, if the weather holds out this weekend we are packing a minimal amount of belongings and heading into the bush, all they way up the river. We have our tents and other camping essentials, but I am really looking forward to escaping with just the four of us. I think I am more excited than the kids.

Following Jodi with a portrait a week x

46/52

Tom: On the banks of the river our town is built around, my little explorer wanders

Grace: Amongst the pink oleander - this portrait I think I will print, her young innocence captured forever

This week its the nature portrait series, with Tom amongst the golden yellow river reeds and Grace nestled into the green foliage of the oleander. We were careful not to touch it too much; for as beautiful as it is, it is just as poisonous. 

This week has been a blur once more, with the end of school term nearing, assignments due and deadlines to meet. I am in the thick of wedding photography, a backlog of editing is waiting for me. Looking forward to the pending holidays, where a trip to South-West Rocks is being planned.

Playing along with the ever beautiful Jodi.

45/52

Tom: He celebrated his 7th birthday this week. 
Grace: Our snowball tree was cut back a little harsh last year, however it blossomed with a vengeance this spring

Tom didn't want a birthday party this year. He had one when he turned 6, but found it overwhelming with 10 mates all competing for his attention. I made a batch of cupcakes and took them to school where we sang happy birthday to the boy with the freckles and scraggly hair. I think I may have embarrassed him.. only just.

44/52

Grace: Reading her letter I wrote a week or so ago. 

Tom: Post swim, waiting out the front for Ian to come home.

This week the girls had the flu and the boys dodged a bullet. It was the first time Ian had ever slept on the lounge in our whole relationship, and it wasn't even because we had a fight! He simply wanted to stay away from the 'germ-den'. Grace and I stayed in our pyjamas all day watching movies from my teen years.. it was all sorts of awesome (and a whole lot of tissues!).

Linking in with the ever beautiful Jodi

42/52

Grace: This time last year we planted them. Now they have blooms the size of her head!
Tom: Shampoo in the eyes always sucks.

This past month we have been so busy. Painting the house, job and uni applications, last school term for the year and birthday parties galore. I've let all the little things slip, including blogging, editing and housework (what a shame). The time is going too quick, all I need is another 3 hours in each day and I would be good. The key thing I need to focus on is organisation, then I think the rest will follow.

Until then, as the bumper sticker on the car in front of me today said.. 'get in, hold on, sit tight and shut-up!'.

a letter to Grace

 

 

  

 

 

 

Dear Grace,

It seems like only yesterday that to came into this world. With round, soft cheeks and dark brown eyes, you looked back at me in a way that gave me goosebumps. It was as though you had been here before. Even though everyone told me to sleep when you did, how could I? I had to stare at you, watch your tiny chest rise and fall, watch all that newborn goodness that I knew in my heart would be fleeting and gone before I knew it. Today is your 8th birthday. Of the 2816 days you have been on this earth, there are only few that I can account for... For the days blur into weeks, weeks into months and months into years.

At 1 you would potter around, picking up this and that, happy to be by yourself and follow me around - a book in one hand, Ruby in the other.

At 2 you would talk to the family in a language foreign to us, but you seemed quite positive that we understood you the way you would use your hands and eyebrows to express yourself. You were gentle with Tom, he loved and adored you. We moved out on our own, just you, Tom and I. I was amazed at your resilience.

At 3 your vocabulary had become so extensive that we would have great little conversations together, tea parties and book time. I'd let you be the 'hair-desser', and although it was a painful experience for me, you'd have a great old time putting my hair in knots. Bless.

At 4 the stuborness and intelliegence that is so prevalent today began to unfold. Hand on hips, pouted lips, that was you in a nutshell. Still so beautiful none the less, sometimes I had to laugh at your temper tantrums. Trying to juggle uni, work and two small babies, you were never difficult for me, I loved coming home to your open arms.

At 5 you sure developed into your own little person. There was no one like you. Campassion and determination were traits that had come into play. You had a beautiful smile, with a gap between your two front teeth. Your hair was fine, but there was lots of it. Soft, mousey brown and always wild in the morning. We bought our first house and you start calling me Mum instead of Mummy.

At 6 you had well and truly settled into school. You would sit at the front of the class, and read aloud a book that your friends had chosen. Your teacher told me that they loved you reading to them. You would come home from school, full of stories about your day. Half eaten lunch remained in your lunchbox, vegemite still on your face. Birthday invitations were never in shortage. You took the top bunk because you weren't scared. You went to bed at 7.45pm, "because you're one year older than Tom".

At 7 you told me I was your best friend. You told me that no matter where we lived, you would always love me. You wrote me books, left me letters. You would play outside, never with shoes on unless I reminded you 6 times. You hated vegetables, but lollies? Never a problem. You grinned that cheeky grin that sent the tooth fairy broke. You still had tantrums. Still carry a book in one hand, Ruby in the other.

At 8 I cant wait to see what unfolds. The girl you are growing into makes me proud and let's me know that I must be doing something right in this world.

I love you.

Love Mummy. xx

39/52

Tom: He had the biggest day, helping us with painting our home and in return got a trip to the skate park - this is the face of one tired boy
Grace: At first she was nervous, but was soon zipping over the concrete hills and between graffiti


We have been MIA the past few weeks. Now the warmer weather is here, it means we can start working outdoors on our house again. She has gone from a dirty mustard yellow to a cool clean grey with white trimmings. Our little helpers loved getting behind the rollers, on the proviso that a trip to the skate park was guaranteed at the end of the day.