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“A portrait {or two} of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014.”

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Izzy—With Mr. B hangin’ out at the county fair.
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I know there’s not really a need to say it, but these two cats are, in my opinion, just about the coolest cats I’ve ever met. We had such a fun time taking our son to the county fair last Friday. I got so many whimsical photos that captured the evening, but have barely dug in to the process of making them uploadable for my blog. There are just so many, so I know I’ll have to post them in installments {because I don’t want to only put up the highlights}. Even with breaking them all down into groups, I still haven’t gotten around to getting anything done on them other than resizing maybe about fifteen or so shots. But I look forward to posting them as documentation of one of our summer nights and how we spent it. Being that it was his first experience of a fair… the rides, the foods, the games, the lights and colors, sights, sounds and smells… it was rather memorable and a joy to watch as Izzy took it all in. It did Mr. B and me good to watch him have some fun this summer. Between that night and some trips to the beach or pool, I feel like we are finally catching up a little on how I hoped to spend summer… on the summer I hoped to be able to give to him. The hardest days are the ones spent here in these walls… where I can hardly escape the thought of who we hoped would be here with us or the thought of how, shortly after we moved here, we expected there would be four of us enjoying our summers here. So getting out is essential, it seems. Not to say doing so doesn’t also come with difficulty. I see so many moms with baby girls when I go to pools and beaches with Izzy, even sometimes with a big brother in tow. That’s still a very raw thing for me to observe. Most wouldn’t know how hard it is for me to see just by looking at me. But inside, I sort of weep silently. So summer… or this particular one, anyway… can be very bitter-sweet. When it’s bitter, I look to what I have. A son with a great dad. A baby girl I was blessed to meet. And the blessing and right to call ourselves this family.

There’s something wrong… I feel it inside me when I see a photo of all of us… or of just these two. There’s someone missing, and I often find it difficult to reconcile the belief that I’m part of a family of four when I see just us three in pictures. But I take the pictures anyway. Somehow, I hope she can see her big brother and her dad in them… all of us. I hope she can see we are doing the things we’d love for her to be doing with us. And even if she can’t, I am glad that Izzy will have them. So I’ll just keep on taking them.

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