Wednesday, October 15, 2008

hot mama photoshoot




My girlfriend Shannon is an amazing jewelry designer and metalsmith. She has a line of mama & family focused jewelry called Hot Mama Designs. A couple of weeks ago, she invited all of her girlfriends and their bebes to a photoshoot showcasing both her jewelry line and the bond between mamas and their bebes. Here are a few that Cullin & I were in. The amazing photographer is Regina of Recherche.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Montenegro!



a message from Ben, as he's just arrived in Montenegro ...

Just wanted to let you know that we’re safely in Montenegro. We arrived last night about 10pm local time (2pm MT). We flew into Croatia and had a driver take us from Dubrovnik to Herceg Novi in Montenegro, about a 45 minute drive. We had to cross the Croatian border into no-mans-land then cross another border into Montenegro. It was an easy process but felt a little weird. Regardless, we arrived in Herceg Novi and met our host who had lined up an apartment for us to stay in while here. It’s a very nice place, three bedroom, two bath, kitchen, balcony overlooking the bay – couldn’t ask for a better place. Due to the time change (8 hrs) we couldn’t go to sleep last night and went for a stroll around old town, which was really interesting. It feels very safe here and the architecture is very old school European.

Today we met our host (Jack and his wife Hayley) and had lunch at the harbor. It was a very cool spot. We had to work out some of the logistics for our course that starts tomorrow, and spent the afternoon touring the areas we’ll use for the course. At one point, we were 1 km from the Bosnian border, which was a little weird considering the massive conflict there in the 90’s. The area where we are is unique in that it’s right on the coast but the land rises immediately behind us into the mountains. It’s rugged country and should be a good location for a course. Interestingly enough, there are brown bears here (grizzly-like) called the Balkan Brown Bear, there are wolves, wild Russian Boar, Lynx and Jackles. It’s surprisingly wild country that’s not very common in Europe. The culture is very Slavic and eastern European – the language sounds a lot like Russian. We’ve already learned a few words but it’s going to be tough (and I thought Chinese was challenging) but we’ve been told by our host that the people here like it very much when foreigners try to at least speak some of the native tongue.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

being a mom

{a story i got as an email from a friend ... beautiful}

We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family."
"We're taking a survey," she says half-joking.
"Do you think I should have a baby?"
"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation. I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. However decisive she may be at t he office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women t hroughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts. My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.