Project Life : Anything But Boring

The day was successful, and I topped it off with a trip to the movies after everyone had gone to bed. It really is great to have family around. Everything just feels a little bit more...normal.

Anyway, that was yesterday. Today we decided to cash in a Groupon deal I snagged a month ago for Kim's Christmas present. We are fortunate enough to have been stationed in an area that is full of historical landmarks and museums, and one of those places nearby is Colonial Williamsburg. This place is the coolest!! So of course as soon as I saw the deal for half off full-access tickets, I couldn't help myself. We took Kim on a trip out to Williamsburg for the day for some shopping, walking, touring and memory-making. The camera got passed around a few times, so I can't take all the credit for these photos below, and somehow we didn't get too many with any of us in them. But whether we are in them or not, here are a few of my favorites for today.

Today was a great day that I won't soon forget. We had a good time with someone we love and I learned a few new things that I never would have found out on my own. I stood in the jail cell that once held an infamous pirate and looked up to the balcony where Patrick Henry once stood and declared his opposition to the Stamp Act. I learned that only planks without knots could be used to make buckets and also that the word peruke means wig, or toupee. 

And last but not least, when we got home from our adventures today Aden had a big box waiting for him...

...Happy Birthday Aden!! Love - Uncle Destin & Auntie Stephanie!! 

Couldn't have ended the day any better!

Merry Christmas!!

The holidays are usually hands-down my favorite time of the year. As soon as that Thanksgiving turkey is put away and the pies have been served, my mind immediately shifts into Christmas mode. The day after Thanksgiving has always been and will always be our Christmas Tree Day. I'm a sucker for traditions, and this one just happened to be the first official tradition of this Phythian family...so of course, it is my FAVORITE. This year was no different than any others when it came to the tree. As soon as we had eaten our regular Christmas Tree Day breakfast of leftover pumpkin pie, we got ourselves out the door and went to our Home Depot in search of the fattest tree they had. (Home Depot isn't exactly the most festive or unique place to find a tree...but my husband has a special history with the place. So whether I like it or not, we buy our tree from them.)

Just as every year before, I sifted through each of their trees to find the biggest, fattest, fullest tree. It happened to be the first one we saw, which was nice because it was right at the front and easiest to load up. We took it home and decorated it from top to bottom with all of our ornaments. The decorations came out, the lights went up and by late afternoon our entire house was officially Christmasified!!

But even as the sun went down and the house glowed with the lights on the tree; even as the traditional Christmas movies came on and our turkey soup boiled on the stove...something just didn't feel the same. Our Christmas season just felt...off...

I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the fact that Harold has been deployed for most of 2012 and ever since he got home, time has flown by so quickly that I can't even remember what we did in between the day he got home and that day we went and picked out our tree! Also, we actually get to go HOME this year. We will be back on the west coast to bring in the New Year, and to share in a few belated Christmas's!! We have 20 full days of leave to spend with friends and family in a handful of states in the Great Northwest...most of whom haven't even met our 2 year old. This is sure to be our BEST vacation yet!!  

So I've decided that this feeling I've had that's made our Christmas feel just a little less Christmasy this year is because we have just been so excited for this trip home that we just can't handle any more excitement!! We are looking forward to finally spending a few mini-Christmas's with our families and friends, celebrating Harold's homecoming and Aden's 2 year birthday parties he has in store. 

But...even though I feel like those are a few pretty good reasons for feeling a little unlike myself this Christmas...I still took the time to partake in one of our other Christmas traditions. Right up there with our Christmas Tree Day is the time we take on Christmas Day to look back on the photos of our past Christmas's and remember the moments that made them special...and to admire our Christmas trees from years ago. So today I decided that these memories were completely appropriate for a special Christmas post. These are our Christmas's, from the day Harold and I became engaged to today, with our newest tree and our favorite kid (and dogs).

May your Christmas be merry and bright, full of love and joy, good friends and lots of family!!

I've been thinking a lot about love today.

But the love I'm thinking about is a completely different kind of love.

It's beautiful, exciting and completely terrifying. It's amazing and breathtaking and brave and absolutely insane. But it is also sappy...and cutesy...and it has been known to inspire a great assortment of songs, books, sonnets and poems...

It's the kind of love that makes a boy chase a girl, long after her parents said no. 

He still asks, and he asks, and he asks twice more...and eventually she can go.

The kind of love that makes a boy wear a tie, a nice shirt and some pressed slacks,

All so that he can take her to their first Homecoming Dance.

It's the kind of love that makes a boy dawn a skirt...a pom pom...and a set of double D's,

In front of everyone he knows at a Powder-Puff game, in less than 50 degrees...

This love takes hold, and never fully lets go - no matter the changes, the choices or years. 

Through the failures and successes, the celebrations and the devastations, the hopes and all the fears.

Through the distance, through the forgiveness and down some roads not many know... 

Though once forgotten, it was remembered, and now this love will forever grow.

This love is the kind of love that makes a boy become a man, 

take that step and take her hand. 

Ok, ok...so maybe my poem isn't exactly Shakespearean...but it was cute, wasn't it?

We're adorable, I know.

Anyway, with all that has been going on in this world, and in my own life, lately, I've been thinking a lot about how different my life would be right now without the love of that boy. Together we have been on quite the journey. We've followed our hearts, sometimes more than we should have. Through the ups and the downs of the life we've made for ourselves, we have always come out closer and more in love than even the day we said, "I do." As Harold and I close a chapter in our lives of prolonged separation, we can both look at each other and honestly say that we made it through with a stronger marriage, a more realistic worldview and a better understanding of just how much each person can take. And though I would never, EVER, choose to go back and do ANY of our deployments ever again, I am learning to be thankful for the time we had apart. Because now, more than ever, I am sure...absolutely sure...that my husband is truly the love of my life.

 This is the kind of love that makes me want to write poems, sing songs and be silly. It makes me a better person...a better wife, a better mother. My husband loves me the way that I could never be loved by anyone else. He chooses to love me unconditionally, from now until forever...and this is the love that I just can't help but think about today.

This, my friends, is my son. His name is Aden. 

He. Is. Awesome.

As I was browsing through the seemingly endless supply of photos of my blonde little darling, I was having a hard time picking the perfect few for a post devoted completely to him. I looked and I looked...I oohed and I awed, I laughed and admittedly cried (just a little). But every time I began this post, I just didn't feel like I could sum up his entire personality in anything less than at least 30 photos. Of course that would be perfectly acceptable to me. But if you're anything like myself and are not naturally inclined to adore other people's kids, I imagine 30+ photos might be a little bit overwhelming... So I continued my search, looking for a way to narrow it down a little. Maybe 20 wouldn't be so bad...? And then, I came across these little gems.

These. Are. Awesome. 

This is Aden. He is my kid and I am dang proud of him. Aden loves tools. He loves cars, trucks and pretty much anything else with wheels. He wouldn't trade time with his Daddy for anything else in the world. Bubble Guppies, Toy Story and The Lorax are his faves and his snack of choice is always cheese, or chips...or cheesy chips. 

He loves big hugs (but not without a kiss) and milk before bedtime. 

He is social and loving, stubborn and smart. 

This is Aden.

He. Is. Awesome.

Am I being too hard on myself?

Maybe I was at one point in my life. But now, I've simply accepted these things as facts.

When I became pregnant, I was suddenly forced to think of someone other than myself. Not that I didn't ever think of others, but once I found out I was on my way to becoming a Mommy, it was no longer a choice. It was nature. I couldn't not love that baby, and I hadn't ever even met him. At the time, I didn't even know if it was a him. I had no idea what that baby would become, who they would be or what they would look like...but I dreamed about those things. I planned for that baby and I had a million ideas as to what their life would be like, how they would look and who they would love. And then I found out that we were having a boy. A beautiful, curly brown haired, green eyed, little baby boy. At least, that's what I envisioned. He would be quiet and smart, one of the strong, silent types. He would have a subtle charm and a witty sense of humor. He would have his Daddy's hair, eyes and nose and my smile and big feet. 

Isn't it funny, the dreams we have for our children? Even if you don't have any children yet...take a moment to think about all of the things you want for your baby. Would they have your features? What qualities would you choose for them? They would be perfect. Right now, as you think of them and their little lives, in your mind and by your standards they would be perfect.

And then...those months of waiting, planning and dreaming come to an end and that perfect baby is born. And the little boy who grew inside of me, knowing full well the plans I had for him, stubbornly resisted all of my wishes. He was overdue, by a long shot. He was a good 2.5 pounds bigger than I had told him to be. His curly brown hair was a rich, fiery shade of red and those green eyes that were supposed to be like his Daddy's...they were bright blue and shaped like mine. His smile was his Daddy's, though. And the poor kid...he was born with my sausage fingers.

But even as I looked over every inch of him and noticed every one of his features, there was not one negative thought in my mind. I loved those sausage fingers. I was smitten with his red hair and those clear blue eyes were so pure, so innocent and so full of love.

He was perfect.

Two years later, that sweet, fat baby has grown and changed. He has proved that I had no idea the kind of kid I truly wanted. My son is loud, he is charming and he has a slapstick sense of humor. He is mechanically brilliant and loves tools. He is a guy's guy, drooling over fast cars and loud trucks. But he hates to be dirty and his fat little fingers can't be sticky for long before he starts to have a bit of a mental breakdown. This boy is nothing like I had planned. He is more. He is a million times more amazing than my jaded mind could have ever designed. I am in love with everything that makes him who he is. Especially his sausage fingers.

That got me thinking...how can I love those sausage fingers so much and loathe my own?

First of all, sausage fingers don't really matter in a man's world as much as they do a woman's world...but that's not the point. The point is, I wouldn't change anything about him, and it would be heart breaking for me if he woke up one day hating himself for any reason. It would be devastating for me if he one day chose to permanently change his appearance, to erase what God had given him, what my husband and I passed along to him. It made me realize, like a slap in the face, that there was absolutely no reason for me to hate any part of myself. Because God made me. Because my parents' love for each other created the life I live and the body I have. And because of my husband and my son, who love me, unconditionally. They love me the way that I am, and neither of them would change any part of me, just as I wouldn't change any part of either of them.

These days, I'm much more confident in the body I have. I am still learning to love my fingers, along with a few other things. I've been trying very hard to not beat myself up over things that cannot be changed. No matter what, my face will always be round and my eyes will always be small. My feet will always be big and my hips will always be wide. I will always be un-photogenic. I will always have to take about 10 photos before I am satisfied. Now, as I look back on my life, I wish that I had accepted this long, long ago...or at least before my pregnancy. 

And here we are, back to the picture at the top. That is one of my few photos of myself pregnant with my son. I don't even have any photos of me in the hospital room after he was born. Part of that is because we were alone, no family around, and only a handful of friends nearby...and my husband is not exactly a photographer. Pictures weren't on our minds...we were so wrapped up in the moment, so excited to finally see our chunky little boy. But then one of our friends stopped by the night after he was born and she offered to take a photo, and I turned her down. I almost immediately regretted that, but I didn't say a word. I insisted that I did not need to remember myself in that moment, swollen and tired, wearing one of my husband's shirts and starting to feel the discomfort from a 3rd degree tear.  

I will forever regret that decision. I will forever wish that I had more photos of me with my newborn. But I can tell you that because of that regret, I will never turn down another photo op with my son ever again. And with the challenge ahead of me, I am making a promise to myself and to you that I will not turn down any photos simply because my hips will look big or my chin fat will distract. I promise that I will allow memories to happen, photos to be taken and fun to be had. And I promise that I will not regret any of it.

It's been 5 years since I gave up on college.

5 years.

If I were to have made something of myself, put in the time and paid my dues, it should have been in those 5 years. I was meant for college, I was meant to go to school and succeed. I was meant for straight A's, late night study sessions and early morning lectures. I started at Boise State University feeling confident and excited for whatever challenges were ahead of me. 

But life happened...and it happened hard.

 Hello, and welcome to my blog!

I'm very new to the blogging world...(can you tell?) Over the last few years, I have watched many of my friends and family pick up on the trend of blogging, and even as I attempted to start my own blog...or two...I just couldn't really get into it, and I didn't know why. Each of the blogs that I make a point of following are manned by dedicated authors who also run busy, beautiful lives that they are determined to document, and do so in a seemingly effortless way. Now, even though I often find myself envying others in some way or another, I try very hard to keep myself focused on the blessings I have in my own life. But I have to say...I have been jealous! Jealous of these amazing women and their ability to keep up with their full lives and still make the time and effort to keep the world up to date on their activities. I mean, here I am, a stay-at-home Mom with a wild and adorable 2 year old boy. My husband works a lot of hours and I'm responsible for keeping our busy lives running, nice and smooth, in the cleanest way possible. I am much like many of my blogging pals and yet I just haven't been able to get with the program! It's a new world, and I've been trying desperately to find a way that I fit into it. 

And then, as one of my friends (who has recently started her own blog) was telling me about her blog and about how excited and passionate she is about where it is going and the future she has in store for her new blog baby, I realized...she is obsessed with what she is doing! She is obsessed with fashion, with her life. She is obsessed with writing and that makes her passionate about what she is doing. Well, that got me thinking...but then I got distracted and the subject faded into the depths of my cluttered mind.

But as the days passed and I continued to spend my son's naps browsing blogs and the many pages of Pinterest, I started to think about what I am passionate about...

...my son, Aden. I am passionate about him and his little life! I am one of the proudest Mommies around. I even look forward to telling anyone and everyone of all of his crazy, toddler boy antics.

...my husband, Harold. I am passionate about our marriage, our friendship and our life that we have made together. We have a long history together and an exciting future ahead of us. I couldn't be happier with the man God made especially for me.

...memories. I am passionate about memories! 

Now, this is where something clicked. This is where I am at now, and this is why I have again decided to take another shot at this blogging thing. 2 strikes is disappointing, but it's the 3rd strike that really counts...right? I can't quite pinpoint the exact moment when it happened, but somewhere along the way in my 23 years of life, I became obsessed with memories...OBSESSED, I tell you...

   I am a compulsive, overly emotional memory hoarder.

Because of my...condition...I have become very involved in the world of photography. Much like every other twenty-something out there, I am constantly taking pictures. I am whipping out my phone or my camera to snap special moments each and every day. For as long as I can remember, I have been a photography addict. But as I have recently ventured into the professional side of photography, something about running a photography business just doesn't feel right for me. I LOVE doing photo shoots for my friends and family. I love to spend that time with these special people, capturing their moments and saving their memories in a unique way for years to come. 

I have done a handful of photo sessions for people who have been referred to me by friends, but I have yet to feel comfortable reaching out into the public, extending my services to people I don't know. At first, this seemed like it was going to be a good way for me to stay busy and bring in a little extra cash for our family. But, even though I have made a few friends through my photography thus far, I haven't found that passion that I find with photo sessions I do especially for loved ones...and I think I know the reason why.

When I started my photography business, I poured over name options. I originally planned on something very simply and easy...AP Photography...but wouldn't that make me just like all of the other Mommy Photographers I saw around me? So I kept looking, and eventually decided on a name that held a deep meaning for me. 

aThousandwords | Photography - By Allison

A picture is worth a thousand words...as I'm sure everyone has heard many, many times in their lives. So even though it wasn't as original as I would have hoped, the meaning behind that sentence is exactly what inspired my photography to begin with. When I started my business, I made a vow that every photo I would publish with my photography would have a story behind it. I didn't want to just take pictures. I didn't want to do photos just to do photos, or just because someone paid me to do them. I wanted to capture memories. I wanted to save these moments for people who cherished them.

The other day I came across a blog that was dedicated to a photography project, where they made a promise to take a photo every single day of the year. It was so inspiring to me, because this person had made an effort to document a special memory each day, something that had originally given me the desire to start a blog in the first place. But she did it in a way that spoke to me, because she chose to use what she was passionate about: photography. Her purpose wasn't to get on there every day to tell about her life, it was to force herself to find and photograph a special moment, no matter what.

As I browsed her blog and read her stories and viewed her photos, all of a sudden there was no question in my mind of what I was going to do. Today, I was going to start a blog. I was going to challenge myself to take on the same project as this photographer did...a photograph a day, 365 days, no matter what.

And so this blog baby was born...

I've decided that this inspiration couldn't have come at a better time, considering we are less than 2 weeks away from the start of the New Year! January 1, 2013 seems the perfect day to begin this project that requires participation every day of the year. So until then, I'm going to take each of these days leading up to my fresh blogging start to introduce myself, my family and my life....and also to practice my blogging skills...which are practically non-existent. 

Here's to memories, and all the beauty to be found in a photograph. Here's to family, and the stories that bring us all together. And here's to you, and your lack of anything better to do than to join me on my journey through this exciting new year of endless possibilities.