it was a very blustery kind of day

And I didn’t mind at all. I love the way wind makes everyone just a little bit hyper, and makes hair look amazing.

I just love the colors in this session. I feel like the beach images are especially soft and creamy and I want to lick them up in an ice cream cone.

Momma packed some great outfits and brought them all the way from Montana, where they live.

Great little family.

xo

Tara

meeting marina

Marina was flying in from Hawaii. Driving LA to SD on a friday night at 4pm. (For those of you who are local, let me give you a hug after you shiver with dread.) We wanted to hook up somewhere in between to get them out of traffic and to finally meet after three or four tries and misses.

Note: the sun is setting currently right around 7:30pm.

I got the call that they were in Long Beach at 6pm. If I sped down the carpool lane, I could possibly make it to Huntington by 6:30ish, giving us an hour to play in the sunset.

I throw my children and my camera in the car and hightail it to Huntington Beach.

As we are getting on the freeway, Drew realizes he forgot his sweatshirt and asks me to turn around. I say no way jose – you had ten minutes to get your stuff together for the beach – it is your problem if you forgot, I am not turning back now. He crosses his arms and glares.

While driving, I realize I am almost out of gas. (Crap!) Stopping to fill up will make me lose fifteen minutes at the beach, but I have no choice.

I pull off the freeway in Irvine and find a gas station.

I pull into the gas station and reach into the back seat for my purse.

It is not there.

I search the car.

It is not in the car.

I threw my children and my camera in the car, but forgot my purse.

It is 6:20 ish.

I am on empty, (really really empty), twenty minutes from my house, twenty minutes from Huntington. On a Friday night. In traffic. Smack dab in the middle of I don’t know what to do right now – somebody please help me!

Kids start crying and everyone wants to pipe in with an idea when they figure out what is happening. In stereo.

I scrounge for change, but Mckenna had been there first, and all I come up with is $1.26. (I remember the time Jeff told me I should keep a $20 in my car, for all the times I forget my wallet.)

I text Marina, give her the news.

I call Jeff, who is at home watching a very important basketball game, and give him the news while flinching. This is not the first time that I have called him after doing some scatterbrained ridiculous thing, and it certainly won’t be the last. He is purely professional on this night, so all he says after my predicament tumbles out of my mouth is, “I am on my way.”

I fall in love with him all over again. That sounds dramatic, but it was a dramatic kind of night.

I calm down the kids and turn up the music. I try to make this stressful situation not as stressful. The car bounces as we all dance and wait.

Nathan and Drew get out of control. Anna meows like a kitten.

The clock ticks.

Jeff arrives at 6:50.

He passes my purse to me out the window of his car. I give him a knowing look – I owe you buddy, I will make this up to you buddy, thank you for not lecturing me buddy. I put in five gallons and drive like the wind.

I arrive at the beach a little after 7pm, where Marina and her family are waiting. If we are lucky, we have 45 minutes before utter darkness.

It is already freezing, but we trudge down to the water.

The kids mesh right away – Marina and I mesh right away.

We have 45 minutes together and trudge back to the parking lot when it is dark.

We say goodbye, but I didn’t want to.

My kids and I pile back into my car, and this is when I realize my sunglasses are no longer hanging on my tshirt. My prescription sunglasses, the ones which cost me $250 in order to shove my prescription into the lenses.

That I need.

Desperately.

Every day.

My eyes are SUPER sensitive to light.

I die a little bit inside – the beach is dark. We were standing in the shorebreak, so there is NO WAY they are still on the beach. I just lost $250.

I tell the kids – they all start looking in the car for me.

Drew looks at me and smiles. He is remembering the sweatshirt that I denied him. He says, “Karma, mom. Karma.”

His sarcasm endears me to him. It diffuses the worry and we all laugh. I ask them if they are up for going back and searching the beach, just in case.

They are all eager to help – in fact – I think they are each hoping to be the one to find the lost glasses.

We turn around and head back onto the beach. It is freezing, dark, and windy. I give up my cardigan to Drew, who is shivering.

I have no hope at all, but I have to try. That sounds dramatic, but again: It was a dramatic kind of night.

I walk a direct straight line following the path I already walked – the kids are fanning out all around me, trying their best.

I stay on my straight path – all the way as we walk by the pier. And as I get closer to the water, I see a dark spot directly in front of me. Could it be? Probably seaweed. My heart beats faster as hope comes back. No, it couldn’t be. How could the glasses be on the exact path I am on? What are the chances? But they were. I walked straight up to them. They were halfway into the sand, stuck, and sticking up in the water. I grabbed them and yelled out to the kids. I still can’t believe I found them.

And I look at Drew and say, “This is Karma my friend. THIS. Is Karma.”

And that was how I met Marina.

And I would do it all over again.

xo

Tara

PS : For Marina’s take on our meet up, go here. You will see a photo of the sunglasses that made me SMILE.

sneak attack

Just realized – I haven’t posted a full session in a long time!

This location was amazing. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t been there before.

I loved the colors that surrounded us. A lot of people don’t like a cloud-less sky, but I love our hazy blues and pinks.

I also loved the swift-kick-to-the-rear-end sneak attack.

We do that in our family as well. My husband’s grammy was really good at nabbing us the same way.

xo

Tara