BUT.
I took this image on a recent photo shoot in Newport Beach. There is a tunnel with all of this great, inspiring graffiti and this one always stands out to me. Life is beautiful but I think this is missing something.
I see more. I feel like life is too much more to be simply classified as beautiful, like the fact that not everything is beautiful, and there is suffering. Like how lately my legs feel as heavy as bricks, like any step (literal or metaphorical) I take forward takes every ounce of effort, like I am moving through vaseline, like there is just too much to get done.
We have a lot going on in our home, an undiagnosed special needs child traversing through teenager-dom. It is not easy. Every day is a struggle for her, and thus, a struggle for us. For our typical children. Every day. I don’t talk about it very much here, it seems counter productive, like whining, and it certainly doesn’t change things. But that is our truth. We handle as best we can the meltdowns of an almost sixteen year old every day. The notion that most children leave home to make their own life somewhere around the age of eighteen is a painful, throbbing, cyst of a reminder every time I look at her. That clock is ticking. Eighteen is so very close. Yet, Mckenna won’t be able to leave. If she does, we will have to plan for it. Place her somewhere. That idea alone can paralyze my thoughts – I can hardly look at that or let that in, but it is getting easier for me. I can shine a penlight on it and gradually the penlight will become a spotlight and I will know what path to take. But, our choices are care for her at home or PLACE her somewhere else. She will NEVER be able to be responsible for herself. The responsibility of knowing we are her only care-givers FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE is incredibly sad and incredibly daunting. It’s not something you really think about when your two year old is diagnosed with something no one knows what to call. But there it is.
After posting about thinning the herd, I went directly to Facebook and culled more than half of the people I was connected to there. I didn’t have a big list like some of my friends. I think my number was just over 300, but still. I went to Twitter and did something similar. I went through my bookmarks and deleted any blog who made me feel not enough or irritable, instead of inspired or connected. Then I took about two weeks to collect my thoughts and see how it felt. A week in, I culled more people. This process was tricky because I didn’t want to hurt feelings, and dropping people on social media can and does hurt feelings. But at the same time I HAD to do it. I had to. I had to cut out some of the noise in my head. I can no longer give so much energy to it, when I have so many more real, in my face things to give my energy to. (See above.) Do I miss some of the people, of course I do. But I hope to be able to stay in touch in other ways, and I hope their hearts are soft when they think of me. However, if Facebook was the only means of keeping in touch, (which doesn’t take any real effort), than perhaps we don’t need to keep in touch. That’s all I’m saying. The process has freed me up.
(If you related to my thinning the herd post, you might also want to go read ‘How real do we want to be?‘ by Andrea Scher. This is a great blog entry and summarizes a lot of the same feelings that I had.) Hopefully I will make time to write more on this later. I want to.
Summer has ended and GONE BABY GONE are the lazy days of no routines and no obligations. School and people and carpool traffic and paperwork and rules and easily a thousand dollars out the door for four kids and all of the crap they need and blah blah blah blah blah. Not my favorite. We all go through this transition every year, and every year it is rough on me because I don’t like to accept the change. Making it more difficult this year is having four children in four different schools. Three of them start at the same time in the morning, and only one of them can walk. I can no longer get everyone ready and out the door on my own, so Jeff and I wake up together in the morning and share the responsibility. This is my silver lining. And now that we have gone through the process for a few days, I can see that this makes it easier than it has ever been. He has taken over Mckenna and breakfast, and this helps me focus so much more on what the other kids want and need. Healthy lunches, last minute signatures, personal styling, a quality connection to Mom before leaving for the day. By taking over Mckenna, Jeff has given me the gift of being able to be there for the other kids. Silver lining number two: the two of us attempt to wake up at least fifteen minutes before anyone else, to enjoy coffee and someone on the record player, and the drowsy silence of a new day together.
New, earlier school end times have cut a HUGE chunk out of my work time, and so I am getting used to that. I always work a lot in the Spring and Summer, then slow things down in the Fall while we get used to school again. I don’t like the hustle of clients getting last minute Christmas card photos anyway. But it’s another transition I must go through. Compared to the last few school years, I lost two hours a day to productive work time. I am now in the car from 1:30-3:30 picking up kids after school. (Once the kids are home I don’t work, at least at the computer.) Those two hours of empty no thinking driving time, dealing with cranky people who are often impatient and mean in the safety of their cars, makes me want to SCREAM. AT THEM. OVER AND OVER. I feel like I lose brain cells every day. Like big huge scoops of my brain are falling out my ears as I drive the same streets back and forth, back and forth. I am kind of sure that pretty soon I will be okay with our new schedule, but for now I just don’t want to do it.
I am positive I need to adjust my attitude and focus on my purpose, I just don’t always know how to do that. This is why I have a weekly therapy call. I have a feeling my therapist will take great pleasure in helping me figure it out this week. Thinking about it, I can’t decide if she is going to tell me to grow up and be an adult and take care of my responsibilities with a good attitude because it means I am not dead, or if she will say this is a hard transition and you need to give yourself time to recuperate from Summer. Or both? This is why I talk to her once a week. She always gets me back on track. Especially during twisty times like this.
What I do know: Mckenna is alive and we are alive and for that I am grateful. If we were dead and gone we would no longer have the chance to feel the joy or the suffering in life. I don’t want to be walking dead, shuffling through my days, avoiding the pain and thus, the joy and everything in between. I want to take it all in, accept it, and be glad to have it because I am here.
I really want to be here as long as I can.
Life is beautiful but life is also full of suffering. And we are damn lucky to get both. And that is all I wanted to write underneath this graffiti in Newport Beach.
Tara
I am so glad you voiced this. I feel like that every single day.
Tara, I’m so with you on culling your people. This may sound mean, but lately I’ve been culling my real-life people as well. I have four kids and some mighty big projects in my life and bitter, competitive, insecure “friends” are taking up way too much of my psychic and emotional energy. Way. Too. Much. I don’t cull them with vim and vigor…but with a weariness, that somehow I should be able to make this work…but I just can’t. I was thinking the other day how women in their 20s still seem to have a large, vibrant social network, but by their late 30s that circle has often shrunk to just include a few. And I wonder if it isn’t because they are so beaten down, so disappointed, that they hedge their bets, that they pull inside, and disconnect. But I also think, more hopefully, that perhaps they’ve figured out where real life is…where their hearts and passions are. I hope I find that myself.
tara- this post really speaks to me. thank you for writing it. i have a 5 year old special needs child who eludes diagnosis (we have another meeting next week where we *might* get a diagnosis after spending thousands of dollars on in-depth testing)- anyway, i get it. I had twin daughters who were stillborn, so i understand being grateful for life and that our daughter is HERE- and whatever her needs are, i get to wake up and see her everyday, and that is the biggest gift- i will never take that for granted. it is still so hard to juggle- and i can imagine that the challenges will change and morph as the kids get older – not easier, just different. ((((hugs)))) thanks so much for sharing and being real. (((hugs)))
I love you. For reals.
Yes. Exactly. I’ve been feeling all of that so much lately — especially the emotional drain of social media. I’m stepping back, but need to cull as well. I think you’ve given me the courage to do it! :-)
Your posts are always so true.
How long until the kids can drive? I would be pulling my hair out in that driving time situation. Good grief! Two hours is a lot.
so real. so raw. so honest.
i too have a daughter almost 16 who has an un-diagnosed special need. (crossing our fingers that we get somewhere this year as she is being assessed again) she returned to school last week & my stomach has been in knots. i look forward to coming home to make sure that she made it out okay. i worry everyday that yes…she will live with us for the rest of her life…unless i find alternative options. there are days when she surprises me though and i hold on to those feelings. i so can understand and relate to your feelings.
nothin makes me happier than thinking of you and Jeff with coffee in your hand and a record player early in the morn’. xo
I feel an overwhelming need to make you something. Like. Right now.
What an awesome, real, honest post. It is what I love about coming to this space.
always love your posts. so raw and real. and I totally agree with shannon, I am glad you are getting those 15 minutes every morning.
Ya know, I was just upstairs, vacuuming my carpet, saying to myself, “You’re not going to cry because you feel overwhelmed. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. . . ”
Thanks for this.
my brother used to tell me that we are just like a diamond.
the more pressure and the longer we endure, the brighter we will shine. take it day by day. humans are here to learn. and to enjoy. and while we try to get through rough times, remember that everything has an end. if you are in the shaddow of your life, the sun shines onto another part of your life soon!
i just had to give up some clients cause it was all getting too much. but sometimes “thinning the herd” is what’s needed for us to be better moms, better wifes and better selfes.
good luck!
thank you tara. I needed to hear that today… wishing you days filled with tiny joys!
Tara, you are such a tremendous writer. I feel like I say that with every post but it’s never less true. You rip off the Band-aid of the perfect life so many of us attempt to lead online and let us see what’s underneath. For that, I say thank you.
Oh, and your last line? Reminded me so so much of one of my favorite lines, from one of my favorite books (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn):
“Dear God,” she prayed, “let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry … have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere—be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.”
this was so important for me to read!!!! like, it was the first thing i read when i got up from knees. i was a blubbering, praying mess of nothing, begging for relief from my horribly insane and painful situation(s). life is HARD and SCARY and so much unknown and my baby girl wants to dance with me to the most hidious songs on gullah gullah island. :) (thats a good thing) i feel the heavy legs the creeping along in a life that sometimes i don’t even recognize as my own. i get you i totally get you and this post was good for me to see. life IS hard and SO many other things.
tara, thanks for sharing this. i’ve followed you for sometime and have been inspired by your work, but also by you and your approach to life. like others have said, you are “real” which i suppose means “relateable.” life is hard, and you’re right about being lucky to get the beauty and the suffering. they are symbiotic: we only know and appreciate beauty because of suffering and the hope of beauty gets us through suffering. ok, enough of that. anyway, just wanted to say thanks and remind all of us with children that “being a parent is heart work.”
I totally agree. Whatever you plan to do in the long run I know it will not cause more suffering. I think that should be your beautiful goal. One day at a time sister!
i feel like this whole year, i’ve been shutting down so that i don’t hurt so much. but that’s meant i haven’t enjoyed the highest highs, either. it’s like i’m in a cloud. a fuzzy, misty cloud. but you’re right. i need to feel the pain so i can feel the joy, too. good for you for being brave enough to experience sadness and not just shut it out.
Yes :)
As if I didn’t love you enough already….
I totally relate on the driving. There is so. much. driving. and it eats up so much other time… but what can be done, really? Nothing. Working on my attitude about that. I do so love reading when you write.
Tara, You are not alone in the difficulty transitioning from summer..I have been dreading my “hamster wheel” of schools, activities, home, work- up and down and up down the same roads. Now, here I am. I made a new CD for the car with music that reminded me of summer and that made it much more pleasant…no annoying commercials or changing channels..and we all are more mellow with the easy vibe we enjoyed just a few short weeks ago…thank you for sharing your heart with us readers…I so get you..I feel you (and am going through much of the same) and hope we both find peace in the hustle and bustle! xoxo
Yes as others have said I am so glad you are so honest. Its so refreashing. It must be why your pictures are so honest. Sending love xoxoxox
you don’t know me but i feel like I know you through your blog… and yes I stalk it on a regular basis…. I LOVE this post it is so real….Life is beautiful…. but…. For all of us there are challenges and for some there are more…. I really admire you and the way you can talk about that on your blog…..and I LOVE LOVE your photography!
I love your heart, always. You’re not alone. None of us can identify with all of it, but all of us can identify with some of it.
xoxo
Loving your honesty. That’s what makes me angriest when driving – people’s complete lack of consideration. What only makes me feel better is knowing that karma exists and she’s a bigger bitch than me, baby! So maybe you’re just one of those people who have a harder time with change? My BFF is the same. She was a complete monster the first two weeks of our move, and I just let it all go knowing she’d adjust eventually. (Not that you’re a monster, but you get my meaning about the toughness of changes!) But at least you’re aware of that part of yourself. And I’m glad that Jeff is there to pitch in! P.S. Facebook friends lists save my sanity. I have one for family, one for close friends and one for fellow photographers. And that’s pretty much all I check!
Tara, I can’t even imagine to know how you feel and what you are going through in your life right now. I am single and do not have any children. Yet as one photographer who is trying to live her purpose to another photographer who is doing the same, I see your strength and I applaud your journey.
I like your attitude in remaining positive and appreciating that life although beautiful can include suffering at times. You find the joy in living and value the things that matter the most to you.
Wishing you thoughts of peace, joy, and wellness for you and your family. Hugs!
i love it. our “virtual” communities are so deceiving at times. sometimes i wish i could just eliminate the “comments” section on my blog because we start to think we “need” the praises of some stranger. i am always tempted to make my blog a wordless blog. maybe no one would want to look at it but me – and sometimes i like that :) thanks for YOUR words though – they are always wonderful.
funny, I just wrote about feeling overwhelmed yesterday – about how just because I chose to be home, doesn’t mean it’s not hard some days (lately, most days). The older the kids get the more there is to fit into the schedule – and most days I feel no one sees ME, they just see the “schedule keeper”. So, I guess I’m trying to say, I get it.
Your truth makes it ok for the rest of us say it like it is…one more person being real, is just what the world needs. Hope you find some peace soon, with the iggly piggly bits of life. And thanks for sharing what’s really on your mind….it makes a difference in ways you might not imagine,
Txo
I have a suggestion for making your 2 hours in the car (hopefully) a bit more enjoyable. Go to your library and check out a few books on tape or CD. I used to loathe my 1.5 hour commute to work everyday, but once I started listening to audio books, I found myself sad to reach my destination and wanting more time with my books. You can also check out language discs and you and the kids can all learn a new language! Just an idea… hang in there!
Write it….you are entitled to do so AND even more to feel this way every now and then…..as long as you see those silver linings(smile) Good Luck transitioning….I have the end of the summer blues….I put three kids on a bus this morning to leave me till 2:45 and felt like my heart was ripped right out of my chest…have one more at home thank God but still….you are amazing!
holy shit you blow me away sometimes. thank you for this.
Wow. I can really relate to most of your post. I totally get the same sadness and fear with my own special needs little boy and how to prepare for his future care….along with all of the other overwhelming life and business things. To purposefully slow down and refocus is a good thing for yourself and those around you.
I enjoyed reading all the comments too…so encouraging. I liked Lydia’s bit about being a diamond…
When you said you culled the blogs of any that made you feel “not enough or irritable” that really hit me. I feel that way when I read some of my FB friends’ posts. I have been so angry with myself for not being able to get past my feelings, which are also not enough but with a huge dose of jealousy added in just for fun. It’s almost as if I read them to punish myself for not being where they are because every.single.time, I leave there feeling so shitty about myself and “behind”, if you know what I mean. Reading what you did makes me respect my feelings more–something I struggle with so much. I “should” all over myself a lot, esp. when it comes to my feelings. Reading your blog that is so full of honesty and respect for yourself and where you are in your journey makes my whole body relax, like I’m sitting on the coziest couch. Thank you for that and thank you for sharing yourself.
hang in there. lots of love to you.
You go girl and do what you have to do. Internet, facebook, twitter and who knows what else media out there takes up so much time and effort. I swear sometimes I stay up till 2 am reading twitter and then think, why in the hell and I still up if I have to be up early in the morning. Then I’m grouchy and snappy at my kids because I’m tired. I am definitely culling some stuff that just wastes time and I get nothing from it. I always love reading your blog, besides the inspiration you give, you are an awesome photographer that manages to record your life and your childrens and help other have their lives recorded via photography. It’s a beautiful thing what you do.
Your blog was one of the very first that I ever read on a daily basis, starting at least 5 years ago. Thank you for your candid honesty and for sharing your heart. What you write and the way your share your feelings resonates with me. And even though you don’t know me from Adam, I feel compelled to tell you that you have made an impact on my life. And for that, I thank you.
Tara, I so relate to you and really enjoy reading your blog and looking at your photography. We moved to a new area to get our daughter and myself away from a situation where we were both being bullied by a group we thought were friends. It was our way of “culling the herd”. Rather extreme but we didn’t know what else to do, it was a small rural town of 1500 people, very much like living in a gold fish bowl. Best thing we ever did. Sometimes we take on stuff that we don’t need ( things, emotional baggage, people) and every now and then we need to spring clean. I love your honesty. Xx
You are truly a fantastic writer. Thank you for sharing. Maybe you just need to head back to that wall and add an asterisk?
I often think the safety of cars and the safety of the internet are very similar—people check all social graces and common sense at the door. It’s just baffling to me.
tara. all i will say is this. you amaze me & i love you. you are real and honest and that is hard to come by these days. take care. peace
yes. we have been back to the school routine for several weeks now. i am already over it. there is too much to do, too much to be responsible for and it sucks the life out of me. i ache to feel the joy of being a woman, a wife, a mother. my responsibilities are getting the best of me. i pray to find my own way out of the noise and clutter…and for you and all the other mommas too.
shit, deep tara. life is beautiful. I tend to think that those hrs in the car are hours you fill with … thought? you macerate ideas? you step back from your work? … they are life, they are what makes us. routine kills me but it also keeps me alive.
good luck with that.
I wish I had words of wisdom or some magical wand to help but I don’t, I can only say how much I appreciate your honesty and openness. While I don’t have the same challenges you do, I so identified with your legs feeling like bricks and walking through vaseline. I am glad to hear that you and Jeff are able to make time for each other. You have been such an influence on me, as a photographer and as a mom. Thank you for everything and I hope you gain peace.
I’ve been reading your blog for years and years and years! I stumbled upon it one day a very long time ago and I was hooked not only by your photography (I love pictures and capturing real life as it happens, so I identified with that right away) but also with how you shared your family with those of us reading. I was immediately drawn to McKenna, and watching her grow up and gaining a window to all of the challenges there are living with someone who has special needs really, really influenced me to try to reach out and be supportive of families who have kids who have special challenges. I am a music teacher, and learning about how McKenna was drawn to music, (and getting to know some other great kids who have some special needs and respond to music) inspired me to start a free music and movement class for preschoolers and their families with special needs in my community. It starts this fall, and I’m really excited about it. So, I thank you greatly for sharing your family with me, for helping me grow as a person, and for not covering up all of the tricky things in life on your blog (which I am so guilty of doing on my own blog sometimes). Have a good day!
Yes. And thank you. Wishing more time for you with your husband and coffee around that record player. And some peace. xo
Yes. And just want to say that I am the adult child in a family with a special needs child who lives in a now-25-year-old body. It is still daunting, some days for my parents. It is glorious some days too, but a lot of days it is just hard. We love him, all of us, but we struggle. Your love for your daughter will help you navigate this course with her.
Your story isn’t limited to today or this season. You see life, not just beauty, and that sight is your process. My thoughts and prayers are with you tonight. Just wanted to thank you for being real.
Love you, dear.