If I had a camera, I might have photographed:
::my children's excitement as they examined the many critter tracks we saw in the woods this morning
::Jude up in the sturdy embrace of an old cedar tree, climbing higher than ever before
::the wonder on Violet's face as she reached up to hand Jude a "magic wand"
::rosy cheeks on this cold, sunny February day
::a fire built on the snow, using birch bark and apple branches scavenged from behind the smokehouse
::Violet helping me mark out the outlines of the Spring's raised beds, with her little rake
::Margot, in her last week of being one, crying in her red snowsuit
Yes, you read it right. If I had a camera. Last summer, our camera was left in a beach bag. Yes, I'm using the passive tense to describe that event so I don't assign blame on whoever should have taken it out of the bag so that the damp towels wouldn't destroy it. After a time with no camera, a dear friend told me I could use her point-and-shoot until I got a new one.
I can't afford a camera. It's kind of the last thing we can afford these days. We're always behind on some kind of bill (who isn't?) so it's hard to justify spending anything on a HOBBY.
On the evening that I was bringing my friend's camera to return it to her (as her good one was going into the shop for repairs), my children found it and dropped it on its lens. Cameras don't like that. I had a royal tantrum, worthy of any three-year-old. My husband walked into the house to find me bawling with frustration, humiliation, and yes, a healthy dose of self-pity. I have to hand it to myself: I DIDN'T strangle my kids in the aftermath, and didn't even make them feel badly about it, because really, they're just little kids. There's no sense in reprimanding kids when they break stuff that you probably should have stored more safely, right?
That said, I am itching, daily, to chronicle our lives (like the moment the other day when Margot, in a blue princess dress, had her first dance while standing on daddy's feet, or when she stood in the bathroom, naked, blow drying her hair with one hip jutted out), and trying to process my sadness when moments come and go that may never come again. I know there are much worse things I could be experiencing right now.
Just wanted to update you on why I'm so silent these days. Call it Technical Difficulties. Or just another addition to the book, "Sh*t My Kids Ruined"...but wait, I would have needed to take a picture of what they ruined, and...right. You can see my difficulty here. Sigh.