14/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augustus: sitting out front on an incredibly warm evening, ripping our poor poppies to shreds.

it has been so hot this week, so much so that i wonder how i'd ever survive anywhere other than california, when it only occassionally ever gets unbearably hot. we live fifteen minutes from the ocean, so even on the hotter days, when the sun sets, the cool coastal breeze passes and we are met with great relief.

our poppies have bloomed, and so has just about everything else in our yard. lillies, irises, quince and our hyrdrangeas and roses are just on their cusp. i still can't quite wrap my head around the fact that i have experienced every season with my little love. we had him on a warm spring night just like the one we are having as i write this. 

the blooming poppy's, the warm evening, the ripe moon.

they were all here before him, that's already known. 

but now that he's here, i notice everything that i never could quite see before.

how soft a poppy's petal is.

13/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augustus: if there is one game you could play all day, "where's the ball?" would be it. do you know how many times a day we play this? and how many times i have to come up with different ways to play the exact same game? we simply ask  you "hey gus, where's the ball?" and you storm through the house as fast as you can trying to find it for us. you are so good at finding it and then sending it our way. it makes this mama heart wonder if you were made to be a sports star.

will you love soccer? will you love baseball? or will you simply love everything and will everything excite you as much as finding a ball does now?

gosh, i hope so. because i'd love to always continue spending my days taking in the way you feel life. 

there's nothing in the world like it. nothing quite like it all.

12/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augustus: this week's photo should actually be another round of you annihilating our toilet paper, but we already did that a few portraits ago, so i chose to capture you doing what you do very best: helping mama.

this week i have been working so hard at getting my shop in order, and really dedicating a lot of time to making it something that i can be proud of. each morning (and afternoon, and evening, for that matter) i wake up, have my coffee and get to work packaging orders or photographing pieces or simply making sure they are pretty enough to showcase. and every morning (and afternoon, and evening), augustus george is right by my side, assisting most every step of this new journey*

*i can't wait to talk more about my shop and what it has turned into for me personally.

11/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augustus: the sun has been out every single day this week, and not that i didn't know it before, but what i really understand now is that you are happiest when exploring the earth. any time you are upset, any time you need to be calmed or soothed, we step outside. you are so simple in what makes you happy. a small branch, an ivy leaf, an ant climbing into the cracks of the cement. a dried flower.

lately, your papa and i have been watching a show on the cosmos after you go to sleep. we watch as they zoom out from planet earth into mercury, into venus and far beyond our milky way. we have been learning so much about how incredibly impossible it is that life on earth even exists. we are essentially taught that our universe has somewhere around 100 billion galaxies and each galaxy may have at least 100 billion suns which makes the possibility of black holes in that same incredible number, too.

the earth's axis tilts at 23.5 degrees so that it does not become tidally blocked. at 24 degrees tilted, there would be no life on earth. at 22 degrees tilted, there would be no life on earth. every single aspect to life on earth is infinitely perfect. it is so perfect that its design will never be fully understood by the human mind. it begs for more. it yearns for spirituality between the unknown.

i have been spinning like the earth around the sun with you, my sweet boy. and all that i don't know matters little to what i do: i am just so glad we are here in this lifetime together. i am so glad that our atoms met in this time period. i am so glad we are existing among the cosmos together. i am so glad my march 2014 is also yours.

i am so glad our time is now.

gus' push car is made by hape

10/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2014"

augustus: not a day goes by that we don't explore the curiosities of nature in some way. even if it's just to go check on the blooming tulips that came to life over night.

the tulips are here which means spring in california has officially begun. i remember so distinctly this time last year that my heart races at even the slight thought of it. i was seven months pregnant, engulfing citrus and nesting in a new home we felt so drawn to. i remember telling steve that once the tulips were here our son would be close.

what little my soul knew before this tiny, beautiful boy.

9/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augustus: into every.little.thing. this day, it was toilet paper.

i think i am raising a mama's boy, though i can't be exactly certain. the only thing i know to be true is that there is no one else on this earth that needs to be held by my arms almost every minute of the day than him. that is both endearing and frightening, as the thought to be needed by someone so fragile catches my breath endlessly. the way he presses his tiny beautiful head into the bottom of my neck and cries out from confusion when i move into another room. the way i have to touch his face and bring him close to my heartbeat in order for him to sleep. this is frightening magic and i feel humble that it is i who holds his safe home.

we've been listening to this song on repeat in the car a lot, and i like to believe that chris' voice soothes his soul every bit as it does mine.  

8/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augustus: it is no surprise that i am yawning repeatedly as i type the words to your portrait. oh my little love, at almost ten months, you are growing so fast and moving at speeds i am still not quite prepared for. sometimes i daydream about the time in your life when you will want to slow down, have quiet time, read a book, search for patterns, cuddle while watching a movie. that time will all come soon enough, so your papa and i are trying our very best to stay centered as you explore every last inch of the world while you are awake. 

we took you to the sea last week and you saw so many things for the first time, but i think what you loved the very most was grabbing at blades of dewy grass and playing with the long window string on the backdoor that led to the ocean.

5/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augusuts: it seems spring and summer have sweetly made their presence known in the blooming trees and in the fruit selections at our local trader joes. we are taking advantage of every second of it, especially now that his two bottom teeth have finally showed up to the party.

4/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augustus: you got into the cat food and leaves and papa's mozart records the morning i took these photos. i wanted to capture you just as you were, nine months exactly, beautiful, strong, curious, happy.

your auntie thinks you look like bill murray. 

we think you look like our wedding vows.

3/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014" 

augustus: you are crawling and getting into every. little. thing. (so quickly! so swift!) and every time we leave our home, people stop and talk to us, touching you, rubbing your cheeks, asking your name, how well you are sleeping, what makes you happy. always wanting to know more. because to see you is to love you, and oh my love, how we see you. how deep our love is for you - how deep it will always be.

these photos were taken this morning outside in our backyard before we packed up and left on our sunday adventure. you love to be outside, especially near trees, plants and patches of grass to lay on and pull. you pet a tibetan mastiff today and played with a stranger's string of pearls because you loved them so. i carried you on my chest in your sling and at one point, we had to take off your shirt because it got so hot. we let you taste everything we eat. we let you feel whatever we feel.

i love caring for you. my love, i will always take care of you.

2/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014"

augustus: i took hundreds of photos this week, many of his naked bum, but i chose these photos (technically it's one, of the same moment, i really couldn't resist) because it explains so much of where we are at right now. he's just beginning to crawl, his hair is curling like crazy (like his papa's) and nap time is sacred, for us both. this photo is from after his nap today, when i showed him my very special box of my very special things.

1/52

"a portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014."

i couldn't be more in love with the 52 weeks project which simply asks to capture your child exactly as they are. at eight months, augustus is fiercely dreamy and bold and strong and ever curious. if i move into the other room for a slight moment, he is inside a box, turned around or simply on his hands and knees, talking to his friends. wherever this year takes us, i know of one thing: i could watch him grow until i become a mere fossil.

augustus: most days, right after his nap, he buries his body right into my shoulder, consuming my warmth as though he is building a fire with mine. sunday afternoons are no different, except papa sleeps with us. i can't quite explain what it feels like, wait. i don't think i'll ever be able to explain what it feels like to sleep next to them.

that's what lifetimes are for, i imagine.