Today we are celebrating the last day of school. I feel very grateful for committed teachers, children that love to learn and a break! oops, I mean summer break…not a break from them during the school year! I am happy we have a break from the school routine!

It’s a tradition to do our front step shot on the first and last day of school. Sorry for the overload of kid photos, but I love to see how they have changed…and well, this blog is also for me and documentation. I’m not documenting their lives anywhere else!

They grow up, don’t they? I always get a bit teary eyed this time of year. Good grief, what will I do when they are off to college?! I’ll probably be gladly dropping them off!


Remember when school photos were actually group photos and not individual shots on a page? Some of you may not know this change in school photography, but when my oldest came home with her class picture I was anticipating a group shot much like the above photo from my own 1st grade class…instead, it was a page with floating heads and the school’s name printed boldly. (wow, what a long run-on sentence)

There is something I love about the school photo with the awkward postures of the kids and the confident smile of the teacher. A moment in time that can never be replaced.

Although I am no longer in contact with any of these kids, I still talk about them as if I just saw them last week. My kids were fascinated to learn about the boy that always showed his bum to the class, or the girl that pronounced “the” as “thee” and it drove me crazy, or the girl’s house I went to for a sleepover and rolled off her bunk bed on to a metal box and had the worst bruise/cut on my leg and I tried to keep quiet since it was in the middle of the night…(another run-on, yes!)

I love how I wrote all the kids names on the back of the photo. Funny thing, I could still name most of them! I also love the names…who names their kids Gary or Ray these days? or Carol? And check out our clothes!

Another dose of reality- My son will be in 1st grade next year. How can that be when I can remember my days so clearly?!

Can you find me?

2 happy girls.

Me, age 3 or 4 in Connecticut visiting my Nana.

Penelope, age 3 at the park and happy as can be…

2 very similar personalities…the good and bad.

It’s scary, really.

Happy Mothers day to all of you- whether you are an aunt, sister, mother, grandmother, or someone special.

It’s nice to receive appreciation from my family on Mother’s day, but to me- I like to have quiet moments of appreciation for the women who have gone before me and have set wonderful examples. I am the one that is so lucky.

This is a photo of my Grandma and me a few years back- this is what I will treasure…I can still feel her soft skin and smell her sweet lotion. I miss you Grandma- thanks for giving me a wonderful mother!

Be back next week…

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So I am continuing on with my “growing up” series-

We are going way back to 1978, Kindergarten, student of Hamilton Martin (no longer around!), riding a little tiny school bus to and from school, living in Pittsburgh, PA…and just a happy little girl.

I love school photos and all of their horrid backgrounds and cheesy photographers. For most people this is a constant reminder of their youth- and a reminder of bad hair styles and clothing options. This shot, however, I loved the dress I was wearing it was one of my favorites…perhaps it was because my older sister wore it for HER Kindergarten shot and I always admired my older siblings (still do!).

Being the youngest of 3 girls, I always have felt pretty lucky. I never went through a really goofy stage because my older sisters influenced my music and fashion tastes…I never felt spoiled even thought I spent most of my teenage years as an only child…I never was irresponsible because, well, I already saw my sister’s learning from their mistakes.

I am a fortunate person, I know. My parents were fair, my sisters loved me…BUT I did have my share of teasing from one of them. Like my sister Susan and her friend prancing around in my training bra OR feeding me Worcesthire sauce thinking I was getting chocolate. How stupid was I?

I included a shot of Penelope because being the third, I think she is pretty lucky herself. She has two siblings she can easily boss around and they will do as she says (ahem, we are working on that!), she has 4 laps always willing to have her plop herself into, and she gets to figure out the world through all of us nudging her along…

This summer, I am taking my family back to where I grew up. I’ll also have the pleasure in showing my kids my childhood home and all of the winding roads and hills of Pennsylvania. I can’t wait to go back and feel like that little girl in the photograph.

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A few weeks ago, I found my husband scanning a bunch of photos from our early years. Over the past few years I have been in denial that I have hundreds of photographs just thrown into boxes, envelopes, plastic bags…you get the idea.

For me, photos just bring back a flood of memories and sensations of the past in a really intense sort of way. I can feel the soft skin of my first born or just imagine the 100+ temperature/humidity on our wedding day. When we first moved back to the Chicago area from LA I couldn’t even go near my photograph box. I was extremely emotional about leaving and could not even find photos to put up in our house. It’s not that I loved LA so much, but it was because I had roots, friends, family and a sense of history.

I suppose I have a bittersweet relationship with my photographs. I treasure them and love to use my camera daily, but I also keep them at a distance. Crazy, huh?

Thankfully some of the photos are just SO old that I don’t have the denial I once had toward them…I like that part in my relationship with photos…

Anyway, what is the whole purpose in this post?! Every Friday, I will share a photo from the past (and maybe organize my stash!). Whether it’s from my childhood in Pennsylvania or my college years in California- I’ll write a bit of the time and hopefully it will be of interest to some of you!

Okay- so this shot is from 1991. Nathan (my husband) and I had just met one another and we were on an Art Department camping trip to see Christo’s umbrellas. It was my first time driving a mini-van (borrowed from the university), dashing LA freeways, and really camping under a beautiful star-lit sky. We were both 18 and freshman in college. At that time we were “friends”, but I think we will both admit we were quite smitten over one another.

It was such an exciting time in my life. New friends, new world, and totally cool boy that I had all those “butterfly” feelings toward. Look how young!!

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