Weekly Photo Challenge: Habit

After 312 days of practice for my 365 project, taking my own photograph every day is most certainly a habit.  From Tuesday night:


More at The Daily Post weekly photo challenge.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Companionable

I have two small and constant human companions.  This fall, one of them will go to Kindergarten, and it’l be just me and Pinky keeping each other company all day long.


And here is the lovely boy we’ll be missing as we play:


More at The Daily Post weekly photo challenge.

These photos were the June 13 and April 8 entries for my ongoing 365 challenge.  Here are some other posts about that:

Weekly Photo Challenge: In The Background

I’m now 143 images into my 365 project (see explanation here and update here), and one I took a few weeks ago fits this week’s challenge, to “take a picture of yourself or someone else as a shadow, a reflection, or a lesser part of a scene, making the background, or the foreground, the center of attention.”


More at The Daily Post weekly photo challenge.

The eye of the beholder

My daughter Juno likes to get “all up in mah face.” She’s pretty relentless about it. It usually happens when she’s kneeling on my lap — one chubby knee firmly jammed into a sore thigh, the other leg swinging back and forth so as to plant forceful bladder kicks ever 10 seconds or so. Perched thusly, she’ll plant her pudgy paws on their sides of my face and begin her inventory.

She usually starts at the top, with hair, then my eyebrows, on down to my chest. She takes her time. Pausing to point out every flaw along the way (hover over the photo if you want to know her usual route and how I feel about each “point of interest”).

click map

Teacher lips. I get these from my mother, who is -- or was -- a teacher. What's my excuse?! Stupid hemangioma. Basically a red bump on my chest that is slowly growing and cloning itself (oh joy). I hate it. Removal will likely leave a scar so there it sits. Untidy eyebrows. Reparable. I'm just lazy. Nose zit. Right where my sunglasses sit, so it'll take a week to clear up. I'm telling people I got in a fight because, really? I'm 40. Enough, already. Random blotchy-blotch. Juno likes to wake me up by poking me in the eye. So, actually, not that random. Forehead lines. That's just age showing. I also have a mighty pair of #11s. Grey hair. I actually like my grey hair, so that's something. Unexplained hickey-esque mark. (Not a hickey.) Birthmark #1. This one I don't mind as I've truly had it since birth. You can't really see it in a photo as it's the same colour as the rest of my face, but it's raised. You can feel it. Birthmark #2. This one I like less because I wasn't born five years ago or whenever it decided to show up. Skin tag. You can't see it in this pic but it's there, confounding my quarterly attempts at using undereye concealer.

I’ll admit that I don’t have a lot of patience for it, especially when she turns her attention to my chest. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s … bothersome. “Juno,” I finally said the other day, “I have had QUITE ENOUGH of having EVERY SINGLE FLAW looked at, touched, INSPECTED and INVENTORIED.” Because that’s how you process it when you’re self-conscious and egocentric and undercaffeinated and me.

But, I suspect, that’s not how she sees it, a few weeks out from turning two.

If I got hit by a truck tomorrow and was no more, I think these (so-called) flaws are what she would remember. If P was to take up with another Stick Lady Love — which of course he is entitled to, after a respectful three-decade-long period of mourning — would Juno knee-whack her bladder and run through the same specific routine? I think she would.

Because these things are, whether I like them or not, a part of me, and according to the tiny triangular fingers that poke and job, a part of She Who Is Mother. As much as the smell of my neck, which she falls asleep against nearly every night; as much as the sound of my voice as I sing her silly songs while she runs away, yelling “TOO LOUD, MAMA! TOO LOUD!”

If you think I’m talking about you here, yeah, you’re probably right.

If you think I’m talking about you here, yeah, you’re probably right.