When your dad’s a photographer/filmmaker, you’re bound to pick up an interest sooner or later. It’s in the air, a synergy of moments and movements, of creating and curating, of noticing, of stillness, of shhhhh. The edit. — Can I have my own camera? she asks. Someday, I say, and I find myself asking Ken
Well, really, love is little more than a man bringing a pillow out to his wife on the hammock. But of course that’s not true. It is a man knowing his wife, noticing that it’s sunny, that the toddler is down for her nap, that she can certainly be found reading, swaying just outside the
The text came from Ken while I was on the west coast: “Can I put the rock climbing wall in our bedroom?” The rock climbing wall, I’d thought, was a project for later, but I’ve also never been good at predicting the milestones of a child. When Bee received her big girl room, it wasn’t
I’ve been craving cheese souffles. The last time I ate one, the kind I’m thinking of, my father-in-law was still alive. Ken and I had just moved home from Los Angeles and we were in a state of limbo, sleeping on his childhood sheets and searching for something that could be ours again. On Saturday
There was a time when the cookie sheets were not burnt and rusty, when the diamond was new, shiny, sparkling. We were young, and tan, and overly analytical. After we married, we disagreed about whether or not we should paint the walls in our Los Angeles apartment satin or eggshell. Both, we’d decided, and we
Remember last year when our basement plans were but a dream? When movie night meant huddling up in bed with the iPad or piled on blankets amidst drywall rubble? No more, friends. No. More. Take a look:
When Bee was less than six months old and our first Christmas as a trio rolled around, Ken and I were so deep into the newborn fog it seemed impossible to lift our heads to the attic to bring down our hefty bin loaded with Christmas decor. And although tree decorating is one of my
I received a few emails that this post really resonated with you (I love hearing how many of you are freelance parents much like us!) and a lot of you asked for a more practical list of how Ken and I “juggle” our roles, both separately and together. While we’re constantly in flux and can never truly