destinylaharris

Tag: Photography

  • Sunday Things #16

    Well, Halloween is officially over, and I would like to know who I need to speak to about getting a refund on my sanity.

    Because Y’ALL.

    This week was something else.

    We’ve had flying objects, screaming children, a shattered glass table, a baby standoff involving a pocketknife and a Sharpie, and a suspicious noise in the middle of the night that had me considering grabbing a sword.

    Oh, and apparently everybody on the road is ugly.

    Everybody except me, of course.

    🤣

    I also spent Halloween chasing three tiny humans around the neighborhood, collecting enough candy to supply a small village, and carrying an exhausted Nemo home like a sack of potatoes.

    And somehow, between all the chaos, we managed to have some pretty wonderful moments.

    So, grab your leftover Halloween candy, get comfortable, and let me tell you about the week that apparently decided I hadn’t suffered enough this spooky season.

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    I’m not going to lie.

    There wasn’t a whole lot of peace and quiet around here this week.

    Sunday started with the boys fighting ALL DAY LONG.

    Neither one wanted a nap.

    Neither one wanted to cooperate.

    And by the time the evening rolled around, I was already exhausted.

    Thankfully, I had a Halloween photoshoot to look forward to, and it was SO much fun!

    I love getting behind my camera, especially when I get to play around with something a little creepy.

    Unfortunately, my peaceful evening didn’t last long after I got home.

    We’ll get to that disaster in a minute.

    By Monday, I was already running on fumes.

    Work was absolutely ridiculous, and by the time I got home, I was so exhausted that I honestly couldn’t tell you what I did for the rest of the evening.

    I know I went to bed early.

    That’s about it.

    Tuesday wasn’t much better.

    Actually, that’s a lie.

    Tuesday was significantly worse.

    By the time I got off work, I was overstimulated, irritated, and ready to fight the entire population of Indianapolis.

    But first, I needed shoes.

    My work shoes were absolutely destroyed, and I had a $50 gift card to Finish Line.

    I found a pair for $65, and after using my gift card, I paid less than $20!

    WOO ME!

    🤗

    Now, here’s where things get a little ridiculous.

    My boyfriend and I were in the car, and I was still in a TERRIBLE mood.

    So, naturally, I decided everybody around me was ugly.

    Everybody.

    Except me.

    I’d point at a random car.

    “Ugly!”

    Another car.

    “See that car? Yeah, ugly!”

    A woman with a baby?

    “Ugly! Both of ’em!”

    ☠️🤣

    Y’ALL.

    I didn’t mean a single word of it.

    I was just being ridiculous because I was overstimulated and irritated, and my boyfriend was sitting in the passenger seat laughing his ass off.

    And the more he laughed, the more ridiculous I got.

    Eventually, I started feeling better.

    Sometimes you just need somebody who understands that you’re having a terrible day and lets you be a complete idiot until you’re laughing again.

    Afterward, we stopped to get cupcakes for my student, who was turning nine the next day.

    Yes, he’d been giving me absolute HELL all week.

    But everybody deserves cupcakes on their birthday.

    I don’t care how much of a little gremlin you’ve been.

    🤣

    By the time we got home, I realized something else.

    I WAS STARVING.

    Oh.

    That explains a few things.

    My boyfriend made dinner, and while I was eating, my sister called.

    Well, technically, Doodoo called.

    😂

    I talked to the kids while I ate and decided I’d go spend some time with them afterward.

    And honestly?

    That was exactly what I needed.

    We played, chased each other, and scared each other.

    Then the boys decided to team up and beat my ass.

    One was attacking me from the front while the other was climbing onto the couch and practically suplexing himself onto my head.

    SIR.

    I CAME OVER HERE TO LOVE YOU.

    NOT JOIN THE WWE.

    😭🤣

    But we had so much fun.

    When bedtime rolled around, I got Poohboy settled and asked who was next.

    Both Sissy and Doodoo immediately volunteered.

    “ME!”

    Doodoo threw himself into my lap while Sissy ran circles around the living room.

    Then we played a little game.

    THE FLOOR IS LAVA!

    FEET UP!

    FEET UP!

    My sister vacuumed while both kids sat on the couch with their feet held high in the air.

    Sissy even helped get her bed ready in the living room, putting the sheet on and everything.

    She stayed in bed, too.

    Well, except for one little visit to try a Snapchat filter on me.

    Naturally.

    🤣

    I stayed until everybody was settled, gave my hugs and kisses, and went home.

    After the kind of day I’d had, spending the evening laughing with those babies was exactly what I needed.

    Wednesday was another long day, and my sister’s babysitting situation fell apart.

    Her sitter wasn’t feeling well that morning, and by lunchtime, she’d quit altogether.

    Well.

    That’s wonderful.

    🥲

    So we rearranged everything.

    I picked up the boys after work, took a PTO day Thursday, and arranged to leave work at noon Friday so I could help with the kiddos.

    Wednesday evening was pretty quiet, at least compared to the rest of the week.

    Doodoo had gotten two shots at the doctor, and he was NOT in the mood to deal with Poohboy.

    Every time Poohboy got near him, Doodoo cried.

    So I spent the evening keeping them separated.

    My boyfriend made dinner, and I went to bed early with a headache.

    I fell asleep watching videos on my phone, and at some point, my boyfriend came to bed and put my phone away for me.

    It’s a little thing, but I appreciated it.

    And Friday?

    Friday gave us one of those rare, beautiful bedtimes that make you want to celebrate.

    Both boys were trying to go to sleep at SIX.

    Absolutely not.

    Stay awake for one more hour.

    Mawmaw Nesi made herself a BLT, and naturally, both boys decided they wanted one, too.

    So they had BLTs with her for dinner.

    Later, Doodoo crawled into my lap while my boyfriend was making our dinner.

    And just like that?

    Out.

    He was asleep by 7:45.

    I looked over at Poohboy, who was crying at the kitchen gate, and asked if he was ready for bed.

    He nodded.

    Went straight to the bedroom.

    AND WENT TO BED.

    Y’ALL.

    NO FIGHTING.

    NO SCREAMING.

    NO NEGOTIATIONS.

    WE WILL TAKE IT!

    🤣🖤

    📸 Through My Lens

    This was a particularly fun week for pictures.

    Sunday’s Halloween photoshoot was such a good time, and I loved getting to play around with the creepy atmosphere.

    There’s just something about Halloween photography that I absolutely adore.

    The costumes, the little details, the opportunity to make ordinary places feel a little unsettling.

    It’s right up my alley.

    Then Friday rolled around, and I got to dress up for work!

    I went as Ms. Frizzle from The Magic School Bus.

    🤣

    Every adult knew exactly who I was.

    The kids?

    Not a clue.

    BUT THEY LOVED MY DINOSAUR DRESS!

    And honestly, that’s good enough for me.

    I left work at noon to pick up the kiddos, and the moment they saw my dress, they were OBSESSED.

    They were even mad when I took it off after we got home.

    Y’ALL.

    CHILL.

    I’LL WEAR IT AGAIN TOMORROW!

    🤣

    And I did.

    Because Saturday was HALLOWEEN!

    I had all three babies for trick-or-treating this year.

    My mom wasn’t feeling well, so Sissy ended up joining me and the boys.

    My boyfriend and Mawmaw Nesi came with us, too.

    We had to wait for Poohboy to get home before we could get him changed and ready.

    And obviously, I had to get pictures.

    I mean, come on.

    Did you really think I was going to take three babies trick-or-treating without getting pictures first?

    Absolutely not.

    We finally headed out a little before 6:30 and stayed out until around 8:30.

    TWO HOURS.

    THREE BABIES.

    FOUR FULL BASKETS OF CANDY.

    AND NINE FULL-SIZED CANDY BARS!

    NINE!

    ALL DIFFERENT!

    FROM TWO HOUSES!

    Y’ALL.

    I DO NOT PLAY ABOUT TRICK-OR-TREATING!

    🤣🤣🤣

    And the babies had an absolute blast.

    Especially Doodoo.

    He was dressed as Nemo, and he decided pretty early on that he was DONE with the stroller.

    He wanted to walk.

    So he walked.

    And walked.

    AND WALKED.

    That little trooper spent practically the entire evening running behind me, giggling and yelling:

    “I GET YOU!”

    And he’d flap his little arm the whole time.

    HIS LITTLE NEMO FIN!

    😭🖤

    I swear, it was the cutest thing.

    But eventually, all that walking caught up with him.

    By the time we started heading home, Doodoo had officially run out of Halloween spirit.

    He was throwing himself on the ground.

    Kicking.

    Crying.

    He didn’t want the stroller.

    He didn’t want to walk.

    He wanted to be carried.

    Then he got mad because he was being carried.

    BRO.

    WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!

    😭🤣

    Eventually, I threw him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried my exhausted little Nemo home.

    And you know what?

    I’d do it all again.

    The pictures are wonderful, but it’s those little moments that make me love having a camera around.

    Doodoo flapping his fin.

    The kids showing off their costumes.

    Their excitement every time somebody handed them candy.

    Those are the things I want to remember.

    Even if one of those memories involves carrying a screaming fish down the street.

    🤣🖤

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    Saturday night scared the absolute hell out of me.

    And I don’t mean the costumes, the Halloween decorations, or the spooky things people had sitting in their yards.

    I mean genuinely scared me.

    After trick-or-treating, we got home with three exhausted children and enough candy to last until next Halloween.

    Sissy wanted some immediately.

    Ma’am.

    You are NOT eating an entire basket of candy tonight.

    You can have ONE piece.

    AFTER dinner.

    That’s it.

    🤣

    I got everybody out of their costumes, changed diapers, and started making dinner.

    Nothing fancy.

    Chicken nuggets and fries.

    Quick and easy.

    Doodoo was exhausted and having an absolute meltdown.

    He was hungry, too.

    While I was finishing the plates, he kept screaming:

    “I BITE! I BITE!”

    So I handed him a nugget.

    Here.

    Take a bite.

    Calm down for half a minute so I can finish getting these fries on the plates.

    And then everything changed.

    His head went back.

    His face started turning red.

    And he made a sound I’d never heard him make before.

    He was choking.

    Not coughing because something went down wrong.

    Actually choking.

    I dropped everything.

    I yelled his name, grabbed him, positioned him forward, and started giving him back blows.

    I’m trained for emergencies like this, and I have never been more grateful for that training than I was in that moment.

    I was hitting his back hard enough that my boyfriend thought something else was happening.

    No, sir.

    I’m over here trying to save this baby’s life.

    After five back blows, Doodoo brought the nugget back up.

    And he cried.

    Y’all.

    I have never been so happy to hear that child cry.

    I was terrified.

    One minute, I was irritated because everybody was tired, hungry, and screaming.

    The next, I was holding a one-year-old who couldn’t breathe.

    I cuddled him, comforted him, and tried to get both of us calmed down.

    Then I still had to finish making dinner.

    Because, of course, I did.

    I had a screaming baby on my hip, two other hungry children waiting, and plates that still needed to be finished.

    Doodoo eventually ate dinner sitting in my lap.

    He was hesitant about eating more nuggets.

    And honestly?

    So was I.

    I don’t blame him one bit.

    Poohboy decided he was ready for bed and went to Uncle.

    Sissy finished dinner, chose Sour Patch Kids as her one piece of Halloween candy, and called her mom.

    She talked to my sister until she fell asleep.

    And Doodoo?

    He crawled into my lap in the recliner and said:

    “I want monk monk.”

    Monkey.

    He wanted Curious George.

    So I put it on.

    He fell asleep before the theme song even finished.

    And I sat there holding him.

    I don’t think I can explain how relieved I felt.

    I’ve dealt with plenty of stressful situations with kids.

    I’ve had training.

    I know what to do.

    But knowing what to do doesn’t make it any less terrifying when it’s happening to a baby you love.

    And afterward, when everything settles down, you realize just how quickly an ordinary moment can turn into something serious.

    I’m not going to pretend I suddenly became some perfectly patient person who never gets irritated with these kids.

    I absolutely still get irritated.

    They were driving me insane again before the night was over.

    🤣

    But I was incredibly grateful that Doodoo was okay.

    That he was breathing.

    That he was able to eat his dinner, ask for his monkey, and fall asleep in my lap like nothing had happened.

    Because for a few seconds that night, I was genuinely terrified of what might happen next.

    And I don’t think I’ll forget that feeling anytime soon.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    Honestly?

    I’m grateful for the people who helped me get through this week.

    Because it was A LOT.

    My boyfriend made dinner for us several nights when I was exhausted, irritated, or dealing with the kids.

    He laughed with me when I was overstimulated and decided everybody on the road was ugly.

    He helped with the babies, came trick-or-treating with us, and dealt with my middle-of-the-night panic when I thought somebody might be inside the house.

    We’ll get to that in a minute.

    Because OH MY GOD.

    🤣

    I’m grateful for Mawmaw Nesi, too.

    She helped with the kids, came trick-or-treating, and was there for the everyday little things that make having three babies around a little easier.

    And I’m grateful that I was able to help my sister when her babysitting situation changed.

    Was it convenient?

    Absolutely not.

    Did it mean rearranging my work schedule and spending even more time being climbed on, screamed at, and occasionally used as a wrestling mat?

    Yes.

    Yes, it did.

    But I got to spend more time with the kids.

    And there were some really sweet moments this week.

    Thursday morning, all three of them were actually getting along.

    Sissy was sharing her candy.

    They were playing together.

    Giving each other hugs.

    I almost didn’t know what to do with myself.

    WHO ARE THESE CHILDREN?!

    AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE ONES WHO LIVE HERE?!

    🤣

    Of course, that peace didn’t last.

    But it was nice while we had it.

    Friday, Doodoo was still a little cranky, so I turned his crying into a game.

    I’d start fake crying.

    And crying.

    AND CRYING.

    Until he decided the only way to shut BlahBlah up was to put his binky in my mouth.

    🤣🤣🤣

    He’d get so serious about it, too.

    Like, ma’am, PLEASE.

    TAKE THE BINKY.

    I CANNOT LISTEN TO YOU ANYMORE.

    And then we’d both be laughing.

    Those are the moments I love.

    The little games.

    The random hugs.

    The way they want to sit in my lap even when there’s an entire couch available.

    The way Doodoo will wake up in the middle of the night, say “BlahBlah,” hand me his binky, and go right back to sleep.

    I don’t know what I was supposed to do with it.

    Apparently, I was just being entrusted with a very important possession.

    🤣

    I’m grateful for those moments.

    I’m grateful for the Halloween memories we made.

    And more than anything, I’m grateful that all three babies ended the night safe, loved, and tucked into bed.

    Even if nobody in that house was particularly interested in letting me sleep.

    🖤

    😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”

    Y’ALL.

    I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START.

    Actually, yes, I do.

    Let’s start with Sunday.

    I had just gotten home from the Halloween photoshoot and was on FaceTime with my sister.

    Both boys had been acting up all day, and apparently they weren’t finished.

    She’d gotten Poohboy down for bed and was getting Sissy ready.

    Then suddenly—

    CRASH.

    GLASS.

    A LOT OF GLASS.

    I hadn’t even changed out of my clothes yet.

    I immediately left my house and went over there.

    My sister had one of those glass side tables with a lamp attached to it.

    Well, Doodoo had apparently been trying to turn the lamp off.

    And instead?

    HE PULLED THE WHOLE THING OVER.

    SHATTERED THE TABLE.

    GLASS EVERYWHERE.

    INCLUDING ALL OVER THEIR TOYS.

    😭☠️

    Thankfully, nobody was hurt.

    But Doodoo and Sissy were both crying when I got there.

    So I cuddled up on the couch with them and put Frozen on while my sister cleaned everything up.

    Some toys had to be thrown away because tiny pieces of glass were stuck in them.

    Others had to be set aside to inspect later.

    By the time she carried the broken table and bags of glass outside, Doodoo had fallen asleep.

    So she saved one final vacuuming pass for the next morning rather than waking him.

    I finally got home, exhausted, and almost skipped dinner.

    But I made myself a baked potato.

    Because apparently a baked potato can fix just about anything around here.

    At least temporarily.

    🤣

    Then Monday happened.

    Now, listen.

    I’ve worked with autistic children long enough to have my own opinions about the full moon.

    And I swear, whenever the moon starts acting suspicious, the classroom gets WILD.

    Monday was no exception.

    My student tried to BITE me.

    HE DOESN’T EVEN BITE!

    WHAT?!

    I thought Monday was bad.

    Then Tuesday showed up and said:

    “HOLD MY BEER.”

    Because apparently my student has learned how to use his words as weapons.

    And I mean that quite literally.

    He has a speaking device.

    I call it his voice.

    Well, he got upset because I wouldn’t let him disrupt another student’s activity.

    So he tossed his device toward me.

    Nope.

    Time to sit down.

    He started getting more upset, and I figured we’d better take a bathroom break before things got any worse.

    I went to unlock the bathroom door and noticed he wasn’t behind me.

    So I peeked back into the classroom.

    He was bending down to pick up his device.

    Oh!

    Look at you!

    Picking up after yourself!

    That’s something we’ve been working on.

    HOW WONDERFUL!

    Except—

    NOPE.

    HE STOOD UP.

    LOOKED ME DEAD IN THE FACE.

    AND THREW HIS WORDS AT MY HEAD.

    SIR!

    EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME?!

    😭☠️

    Thank goodness I was standing in the hallway because that thing would’ve hit me right between the eyes.

    I managed to dodge it and got some help.

    But the story doesn’t end there.

    Oh, no.

    While all this was happening, somebody else had made it into the restroom.

    So now we had to wait.

    And while we were waiting?

    HE TRIED TO BITE ME.

    AGAIN.

    BRO.

    WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

    IT’S ONLY TUESDAY!

    😭😭😭

    Eventually, we had to focus on calming down and getting through the rest of the day.

    And yes, there were plenty of other behaviors.

    But those were the highlights.

    I did a little research afterward because I needed to know what was happening in the universe.

    And apparently, according to what I was looking at, there were FIVE planets in microwave.

    FIVE.

    NOT ONE.

    NOT TWO.

    FIVE.

    I don’t even know what that means.

    But somebody needs to get these planets out of the microwave because I CANNOT.

    ☠️🤣

    Then Thursday came along.

    Remember how I said all three kids were getting along?

    Sharing candy?

    Giving hugs?

    Being sweet little angels?

    Yeah.

    That lasted until lunchtime.

    I was making myself a hot ham and cheese sandwich when I noticed the boys had gotten suspiciously quiet.

    And then I saw them.

    Doodoo had found a CLOSED pocketknife that we thought was put away.

    Poohboy had a Sharpie.

    And somehow, these two tiny humans had arranged themselves into a full-blown standoff in my living room.

    Doodoo had Poohboy backed into the corner, pointing the closed knife at him.

    Poohboy was LAUGHING and pointing the Sharpie right back.

    Y’ALL.

    WHAT KIND OF WESTERN MOVIE DID I JUST WALK INTO?!

    😭☠️

    Obviously, I took the knife immediately.

    Doodoo was NOT happy about losing his newly discovered “toy.”

    So what did he do?

    He pushed Mawmaw Nesi’s plant off the living room table.

    OF COURSE HE DID.

    Meanwhile, my sandwich was burning.

    MY DAMN SANDWICH.

    I still ate it.

    I wasn’t about to waste perfectly good food just because two babies decided to reenact a showdown at high noon.

    🤣

    After lunch, both boys were screaming and rubbing their eyes.

    Exhausted.

    Clearly exhausted.

    Would they take another nap?

    Absolutely not.

    Fine.

    I guess we’re ALL going to be cranky.

    By the time my sister got off work, I told her to take a shower and relax for a little while before I brought the kids home.

    And when she was ready?

    I CLOCKED OUT.

    Your turn, ma’am.

    I LOVE YOU.

    GOOD LUCK.

    🤣

    Friday was a little less dramatic.

    The kids spent a good portion of the day running around the house yelling for Mawmaw.

    And somehow, we survived.

    Which brings us to Saturday.

    HALLOWEEN!

    And the aftermath of our very successful candy expedition.

    After the choking scare, everybody finally got settled.

    My boyfriend and I even managed to eat dinner in peace.

    Watching Curious George.

    Because apparently that’s what we’re watching now.

    🤣

    Eventually, I went to move Sissy to bed.

    I picked her up, and she lifted her head.

    “I want Kase.”

    You want Kase?

    “No.”

    Okay.

    What do you want?

    She looked me right in the eyes.

    “I want. I want. I want…”

    Yes, baby?

    You want what?

    “I want the cat.”

    And then she closed her eyes and laid her head back down.

    OH.

    OKAY.

    GLAD WE CLEARED THAT UP.

    🤣🤣🤣

    I absolutely love when that child sleep talks.

    But the night wasn’t over.

    Not even close.

    Doodoo was tossing and turning all night.

    Sitting up.

    Moving around.

    Occasionally handing me his binky for reasons known only to him.

    Then, at some point, I heard a loud THUD from somewhere outside the bedroom.

    I immediately thought:

    What the fuck?

    Then I remembered Mawmaw Nesi wasn’t home.

    WHAT THE FUCK?!

    I moved Doodoo between me and my boyfriend and sat up.

    I listened.

    No footsteps.

    No more thuds.

    Nothing.

    And naturally, my brain immediately started developing a plan.

    Should I grab the sword behind the closet door?

    Should I go investigate?

    Should I move all three babies into the bed?

    What if somebody’s in the house?

    What if—

    WAIT.

    MY BOYFRIEND IS LITERALLY ASLEEP BESIDE ME.

    DUH.

    WHY AM I PLANNING A SOLO MISSION?!

    😭🤣

    So I woke him up.

    Told him what I’d heard.

    And he went to investigate.

    He checked the house.

    The front yard.

    The backyard.

    EVERYTHING.

    And he was gone for what felt like FOREVER.

    Y’all.

    We don’t even have a big house.

    WHERE IS THIS MAN?!

    I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, listening, debating whether I need to grab that sword after all.

    Then I hear him go into the bathroom.

    Thank goodness.

    He comes back into the bedroom.

    And tells me what happened.

    Y’all.

    I FEEL SO DAMN STUPID.

    IT WAS THE BABY SHAMPOO.

    THE BABY SHAMPOO FELL INTO THE BATHTUB.

    ☠️☠️☠️

    I WAS PREPARING TO DEFEND MY ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD AGAINST A BOTTLE OF BABY SHAMPOO.

    😭🤣

    In my defense, I had all three babies in the house.

    If it had just been me, I probably would’ve gone to investigate myself without thinking much about it.

    But with the kids there?

    Absolutely not.

    I wasn’t taking chances.

    Still.

    BABY SHAMPOO.

    I’m never living that one down.

    And would you believe me if I told you the night STILL wasn’t over?

    Because at 4:25 in the morning, Sissy woke up.

    She wanted to come cuddle.

    No, ma’am.

    It’s bedtime.

    Go back to sleep.

    Before anybody thinks I’m being mean, her doctor has given us specific instructions about how to handle her nighttime waking because she struggles with sleep.

    So we were sticking to the routine.

    Unfortunately, Sissy did NOT appreciate that.

    She wanted her phone.

    And she was prepared to protest.

    FOR AN HOUR AND A HALF.

    GIRL.

    PLEASE.

    GO.

    TO.

    SLEEP.

    😭

    I’d already been up practically every hour.

    And because the clocks went back, I got to experience 2 AM TWICE.

    TWICE!

    AS IF ONE 2 AM WASN’T ENOUGH!

    ☠️

    At one point, I got up to use the bathroom.

    And naturally, Doodoo woke up.

    Because apparently I am not allowed to pee without an audience.

    He HAD to come with me.

    While I was up, I realized the lullabies had stopped playing on the television, so I put them back on.

    Eventually, Sissy settled down.

    And at 5:47 AM, I FINALLY got to go back to sleep.

    Y’ALL.

    I SURVIVED HALLOWEEN.

    BARELY.

    🤣🖤

    I think that’s a pretty good place to leave this week.

    Not because it was peaceful.

    It absolutely was not.

    Not because everything went according to plan.

    Clearly, we abandoned that idea somewhere around the shattered glass table.

    But because somewhere between the tantrums, the exhaustion, the flying objects, and the four baskets of Halloween candy, we made some really good memories.

    I got to spend time behind my camera.

    I got to dress up as Ms. Frizzle.

    I got to watch three babies enjoy Halloween, including one very determined little Nemo who walked until his legs apparently decided they were finished participating.

    I got to laugh with my boyfriend after a terrible day.

    I got to spend extra time with the kids and help my sister when she needed it.

    And even after a genuinely frightening moment Saturday night, I got to tuck three babies into bed knowing they were safe.

    I’m exhausted.

    My sleep schedule is a disaster.

    I’m pretty sure I’ve heard somebody yell “BLAHBLAH!” in my dreams.

    And I’m going to need approximately seventeen business days to recover from Halloween.

    But I wouldn’t trade those little memories for anything.

    Well.

    Maybe I’d trade the baby shampoo incident for a full night’s sleep.

    Just that one.

    🤣

    I think that’s something I’m learning to appreciate more and more.

    Life doesn’t have to be peaceful to be good.

    Sometimes it’s loud, messy, exhausting, and completely ridiculous.

    Sometimes you spend your evening laughing until your stomach hurts.

    Sometimes you spend it wondering how you’re going to get everybody fed, bathed, and into bed without losing your mind.

    And sometimes you spend the middle of the night preparing to fight an intruder who turns out to be a bottle of shampoo.

    Apparently, all of those things can happen in the same week.

    So here’s to another Halloween in the books.

    To the costumes, the candy, the laughter, and the tiny humans who made it memorable.

    And here’s to hoping November brings a little more peace.

    Although, knowing my life?

    I wouldn’t bet on it.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. How was your Halloween? Did you dress up, take the kiddos trick-or-treating, stay home handing out candy, or spend the evening watching scary movies? And more importantly, what’s the most ridiculous thing that happened to you this week? Because I could really use some reassurance that I’m not the only person living in a sitcom. 😂🖤

  • Learning to Look Closer #17: Halloween Edition ☠️🕸️

    There’s something about old, forgotten things that feels a little different in October.

    A garden pot. A few fallen leaves. Cobwebs stretched across an opening. Weeds growing wherever they please.

    Nothing particularly frightening. Nothing that should make you pause.

    And yet…

    I found myself looking at this little corner and wondering how long it had been sitting there, collecting dust, catching leaves, and quietly becoming part of the background.

    How many times had someone walked past it without noticing?

    How many seasons had come and gone while it sat there?

    And why does that dark opening look like it might be hiding something? 😂☠️

    Maybe that’s the fun of looking closer. Sometimes you discover beauty in the things everyone else overlooks. Sometimes you find a little bit of decay, a tangle of cobwebs, and something that looks like it belongs in the opening scene of a Halloween movie.

    And sometimes, the ordinary is just a little more unsettling when you give it your attention.

    Not everything creepy has to be a haunted house, a shadowy figure, or something moving when it absolutely should not be moving.

    Sometimes, it’s just a forgotten corner.

    And the question of what might be hiding inside.

    🖤

    Until next time,

    -Destiny

    P.s.- What ordinary thing gives you an unexpectedly creepy feeling when you stop and really look at it?

  • 📸 Learning to Look Closer #16: After the Noise

    At first glance, there isn’t much happening in this photograph.

    An empty set of bleachers. A fence surrounding a ballfield. Trees silhouetted against the fading light.

    Nothing particularly exciting.

    But look a little closer.

    There’s a red ball sitting in the grass, just outside the fence.

    It’s such a small detail that you could easily miss it. I almost wonder how many people would look at this photograph without noticing it at all.

    And yet, once you see it, it’s hard to stop looking at it.

    I don’t know who left it there. Maybe someone forgot it. Maybe they planned to come back for it. Maybe it had been sitting there for hours before I ever took the picture.

    I have no idea.

    But I started thinking about how different places can feel depending on when we see them.

    A ballfield is usually somewhere you’d expect to hear people laughing, shouting, cheering, or arguing over whether somebody was actually out. 😂

    There are games to be played, people to watch, and probably at least one person taking everything a little too seriously.

    But here?

    Nothing.

    Just empty seats, an empty field, and one little red ball.

    It’s funny how a place doesn’t have to change for it to feel completely different.

    The bleachers are still there. The fence hasn’t moved. The field is exactly where it was before.

    The only thing missing is the activity we associate with it.

    And I think that’s what caught my attention about this photograph.

    Not everything interesting has to be happening right in front of us.

    Sometimes, it’s what isn’t happening that makes us stop and look.

    I could have photographed the sky. The colors were beautiful, and the trees looked lovely against the fading light.

    But I like this picture better.

    Because there’s something about an empty place that makes you notice things you probably wouldn’t have seen when it was full.

    Like a little red ball sitting quietly in the grass.

    Something ordinary.

    Something easily overlooked.

    Something that made me stop for just a moment longer.

    And sometimes, that’s enough.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. Have you ever visited a familiar place when nobody else was around and realized how different it felt without all the usual noise?

  • 📸 Learning to Look Closer #15: What Still Grows Here

    At first, it looked dead.

    A mess of old vines.

    Twisted branches.

    Things crossing over each other so tightly I couldn’t tell what was still alive—

    and what had been gone for a long time.

    That was what made me stop.

    In black and white, the whole thing looks stripped down to bone.

    No color to soften it.

    No green to reassure you that something is still growing.

    Just shape.

    Shadow.

    Tangles.

    Old wood wrapped around older wood.

    Somewhere inside all of that, something is still alive.

    I think that’s what I like about it.

    Nature doesn’t wait for everything dead to disappear before it starts again.

    It grows around it.

    Through it.

    Over it.

    The old damage stays.

    The broken pieces stay.

    Sometimes the dead things become part of the structure holding the living ones up.

    There’s something very October about that.

    Not death exactly.

    The space between death and whatever comes next.

    The point where something has already ended, but hasn’t disappeared.

    Where decay and growth are touching.

    Where you can’t quite tell which one you’re looking at anymore.

    And maybe that’s why the picture feels a little unsettling.

    Nothing is clean.

    Nothing is finished.

    Nothing has politely stepped aside to make room for what comes after it.

    Everything remains tangled together.

    Which, if I’m being honest, feels a lot more truthful than the idea that we always leave old things neatly behind.

    Sometimes we don’t.

    Sometimes we grow around them.

    Sometimes they become part of us.

    Sometimes the thing you thought was dead is simply waiting somewhere beneath everything else.

    And sometimes—

    you have to look closer to figure out which is which.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s something you thought was gone, only to realize part of it was still growing somewhere underneath? 🖤

  • 📸 Learning to Look Closer #14: The Thing I Wanted to Look Away From

    I am terrified of spiders.

    And I don’t mean:

    “Ew. Spider.”

    I mean my heart races.

    My palms sweat.

    My breathing changes.

    My entire body goes into panic mode before the logical part of my brain has even had time to remind me that I am significantly larger than the thing currently ruining my day.

    So naturally—

    I took her picture.

    😂

    And somehow, out of all the pictures I could have taken of a spider I desperately wanted nowhere near me…

    she decided to pose.

    One leg stretched upward.

    The others perfectly angled.

    Body turned just enough to show off every stripe, every little patch of color, every horrifying hair on those ridiculously long legs.

    She looks like she knew exactly where the camera was.

    Which feels unnecessarily confident for something that almost made me leave my own backyard.

    But then I looked at the photo.

    Actually looked.

    And—

    damn it.

    She’s beautiful.

    I hate that.

    😂

    Her legs aren’t just black.

    They’re banded with orange and yellow.

    Her abdomen has this complicated pattern running across it that I never would have noticed if I hadn’t gotten close enough to take the picture.

    Even the little hairs on her legs—the part I find particularly offensive—catch the light.

    There is so much detail packed into something my brain normally reduces to one word:

    SPIDER.

    Danger.

    Nope.

    Get it away from me.

    And I think that’s the interesting part.

    Looking closer didn’t make me less afraid of her.

    I didn’t take the picture and suddenly become a spider person.

    Absolutely not.

    I still wanted distance.

    A lot of it.

    Preferably several zip codes.

    But for a minute, fear stopped being the only thing I could see.

    There was fear.

    And there was color.

    Pattern.

    Texture.

    Structure.

    Beauty.

    All occupying the exact same frame.

    I think sometimes we assume appreciating something means we have to stop being afraid of it.

    Maybe we don’t.

    Maybe two things can be true at once.

    She scared the absolute shit out of me.

    And—

    she is gorgeous.

    I can admit that.

    From over here.

    Very, very far away.

    😂🖤

    Maybe looking closer isn’t always about discovering that something wasn’t scary after all.

    Sometimes it’s just about noticing that fear wasn’t the whole story.

    Until next time,

    -Destiny

    P.S. Have you ever found something beautiful even though it scared you?

  • 📷 Learning to Look Closer #12: Between the Songs

    Concert photography makes you want to chase the obvious moments.

    The singer at the microphone.

    The lights hitting perfectly.

    The crowd with their hands in the air.

    The big moments.

    But sometimes I like the ones in between better.

    I took this photo at the concert, and there isn’t actually a whole lot happening in it.

    She isn’t singing into a microphone.

    There isn’t a giant explosion of lights behind her.

    There aren’t a hundred things fighting for your attention.

    It’s just her.

    Standing on the edge of the stage.

    Arms stretched toward the ceiling.

    Purple light and smoke filling almost everything around her.

    And somehow, that makes her feel even smaller and the moment feel even bigger.

    That’s what I keep coming back to when I look at this picture.

    The space.

    I could have cropped most of it away.

    I could have brought her closer and made her fill the frame.

    But I don’t think I want to.

    Because the empty space is part of the photograph.

    It shows how big that stage felt.

    How much atmosphere was hanging in the air.

    How one person can take up such a tiny part of a photograph and still be the first thing your eye finds.

    And I love the way she’s reaching into all of it.

    There’s something about concerts that photographs never quite capture.

    You can photograph the artist.

    You can photograph the lights.

    You can photograph the smoke.

    But you can’t really photograph the bass vibrating through your chest or the sound of hundreds of people singing the same words.

    You can’t photograph what it feels like to hear a song you love performed right in front of you.

    But every once in a while, I take a picture that feels like it caught a tiny piece of that feeling anyway.

    I think this is one of those.

    Not because I caught the biggest moment.

    Because I noticed the smaller one.

    And sometimes, when I look closer, those are the pictures I end up loving most.

    Until next time,
    —Destiny

    P.S. When you take pictures at concerts or events, do you usually photograph the big moments—or the little ones happening in between?

  • 📷 Learning to Look Closer #10

    I think one of my favorite things about doing this series is realizing that I don’t actually have to go looking for something worth photographing.

    Most of the time, it’s already there.

    I just have to notice it.

    And apparently this week, the things that made me stop ranged from a tiny gothic sticker on a gas pump to Batman secretly being an alarm clock.

    So.

    You know.

    A very normal assortment of things. 😂

    A Tiny Gas-Pump Stranger

    I stopped for gas this week and noticed this little lady hanging out on the pump.

    That’s it.

    That’s the entire story. 😂

    I have absolutely no idea who put her there.

    I don’t know how long she’s been there.

    But there was something about this tiny, gothic, horned woman sitting directly above a giant WARNING sign that made me stop for a second.

    Someone had this sticker.

    Someone decided this gas pump was where she belonged.

    And now everybody who stops there gets a tiny piece of that stranger’s personality without ever knowing who they were.

    I kinda love that.

    Lunch, According to Tiny Humans

    This one is not pretty.

    There is absolutely no artistic arrangement happening here. 😂

    But this is what happens when you let a four-year-old and two one-year-olds have opinions about lunch.

    Reese’s-filled pretzels.

    Mandarin oranges—or, judging by the crime scene, what used to be mandarin oranges.

    And whatever else apparently made sense at the time.

    There are peels everywhere.

    Containers everywhere.

    Wipes in the background.

    Random cups.

    Absolute chaos.

    And I almost wouldn’t have thought to take a picture of it because it’s just a messy table.

    Except…

    it’s also one of those pictures I think I’ll like more later than I do right now.

    Because someday there won’t be tiny people making absolute disasters out of lunch.

    And this?

    This is what life looked like while there were.

    Messy counts, too.

    The Sky Was Showing Off

    And then there was this morning.

    Nothing particularly interesting was happening underneath that sky.

    Buildings.

    A fence.

    A basketball hoop.

    Trees.

    Just ordinary things I see all the time.

    But above all of it?

    That.

    Pink.

    Orange.

    Purple.

    One of those sunrises that makes you stop whatever you’re doing for a second because apparently the sky has decided to be dramatic before you’ve even fully started your day.

    And I’m glad I noticed.

    Because a few minutes later, it was gone.

    Wait…That’s a Clock?

    And finally:

    Batman.

    One of my kiddos brought this into class today, and at first I didn’t think anything of it.

    It was LEGO Batman.

    Cool.

    Then I looked again.

    Wait.

    Is Batman telling me what time it is?

    😂

    Apparently, yes.

    It was an alarm clock.

    I had looked directly at the giant digital numbers in his stomach and somehow my brain had decided those were simply none of my business.

    And weirdly enough, I think Batman might sum up this entire series better than anything else I photographed this week.

    Because Learning to Look Closer doesn’t always mean finding something beautiful.

    Sometimes it does.

    Sometimes you look up and catch a sunrise before it disappears.

    But sometimes it means noticing a tiny sticker somebody left behind.

    Sometimes it means realizing that the messy table in front of you is evidence of a very specific season of your life.

    And sometimes…

    it means looking at LEGO Batman twice before realizing the man has been telling you the time this entire time.

    😂

    There are things worth noticing everywhere.

    Beautiful things.

    Funny things.

    Messy things.

    Completely pointless little things that make you smile for half a second.

    You just have to actually look at them.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. What’s something you’ve looked directly at before realizing what you were actually looking at? 😂

  • Sunday Things #9

    This week felt like my body and my life were operating on two completely different schedules.

    My body wanted heating pads, pain patches, hot baths, a recliner, and for everybody to leave me the hell alone.

    My life said:

    Cool. Anyway, you’re going back to work. The kids miss you. Your sister needs help. There are dinosaurs to watch. Somebody is going to walk UP a slide. And apparently you’re going to end the week at a spontaneous photoshoot.

    😅

    I started the week on my period, which is exhausting enough on its own, but now that I know I have both a fibroid and endometriosis, I’ve been doing what any curious person with access to Google does:

    Looking up all the weird shit my body does and going,

    Ohhhhh. So THAT’S why.

    😂

    The lower back pain.

    The constant urge to pee.

    The horrible cramping when I poop.

    The extra bleeding when I do.

    Apparently, my body has explanations for things I’ve just been suffering through for years.

    And listen—

    period poops are already the WORST.

    I do not need two separate medical conditions working together to make them worse. 😮‍💨

    Sunday was actually surprisingly good for day two of my period. I barely hurt all day, and I had even slept through the entire night before—which is WILD for me because I’m normally up and down for the first two or three nights because I’m hurting so badly.

    Then I pooped.

    And apparently that was enough to ruin everybody’s good time.

    😂

    By 4:30 Monday morning, I was hurting badly enough that I ended up taking an hour-long nap on the toilet so I could free bleed.

    Obviously.

    Nobody ever talks about how much passing period clots can fucking hurt, either.

    This period was super clotty, and whether that had anything to do with recently having surgery or not, I have no idea.

    I just know:

    boy, I was in pain.

    I finally fell back asleep around 7 and slept until 11:30.

    Thankfully, my sister had asked Mom to watch the kids that day because I really just could not.

    I remembered that the hysterectomy belt my boyfriend’s mom gave me had heating/cooling pads in it, popped those bad boys in the microwave for thirty seconds on each side, and discovered that I basically own a portable heating pad.

    Guess who’s taking that bitch to work?

    🤷🏻‍♀️😂

    Tuesday morning?

    4 AM.

    Again.

    More pain.

    More soaking in the bathtub.

    And eventually a PTO day because there was absolutely no way I was going back to work like that.

    At one point, I was so over the pain that I genuinely thought about asking my boyfriend if he would be okay with adopting because I just—

    cannot keep doing this.

    I’m ready for them to get this stuff taken care of.

    My periods are exhausting.

    Physically.

    Emotionally.

    All of it.

    But somewhere between all the heating pads, pain patches, baths, and me refusing to leave the recliner unless absolutely necessary…

    the rest of my life kept happening anyway.

    And somehow, by the end of the week, there was a whole lot of good mixed in with the hurting.

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    This one is easy.

    My heating pad.

    😮‍💨

    That thing and I have been in a committed relationship all week.

    Monday, it was the heating pads from the hysterectomy belt.

    Tuesday, I basically lived in the recliner with my heating pad and only got up when I absolutely needed to.

    And then Doodoo showed up.

    He was asleep when Mom brought him over, and when he came inside, he looked at me, climbed into my lap, and immediately went right back to sleep.

    I sat him on my stomach.

    And somehow?

    His weight actually helped.

    So I leaned the recliner back with this sleeping baby sprawled across me and got maybe thirty or forty-five minutes where I wasn’t hurting much at all.

    I was almost asleep myself before the other two came inside.

    😂

    Apparently Doodoo is also a heating pad.

    A significantly heavier one.

    With legs.

    And opinions.

    But I’ll take what I can get.

    📷 Through My Lens

    I think my favorite part of this week happened today.

    I took Doodoo home early, came back, cleaned the living room, got myself ready, and headed to my friend’s house.

    And then we just drove around and took pictures.

    No real plan.

    Just a spontaneous photoshoot.

    She took me to 420 Road, which is apparently basically a mile of road where people go to spray paint.

    I had never been there before today.

    Then we went to take pictures with planes coming in.

    😂

    And it was actually really fucking fun.

    After spending the beginning of the week barely wanting to leave my recliner, ending it out driving around, finding weird places, and taking pictures felt good.

    I love photography.

    I love finding interesting things to photograph.

    And apparently I also love standing around waiting for airplanes to fly over me.

    Who knew?

    😂

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    I don’t think you always realize how much you’re part of somebody else’s routine until you disappear from it for a while.

    Wednesday was finally my first day back at work.

    And all morning I heard:

    “Welcome back.”

    “Where have you been?”

    “I thought you weren’t working here anymore.”

    “Are you okay now?”

    “What happened?”

    “You’ve been missed.”

    I didn’t tell everybody where I was going before I left.

    Honestly, I only really talk to maybe five people there anyway. The people who mattered knew I had surgery and knew I was going to be gone for a month.

    I wasn’t about to make some giant announcement or walk around campus telling everybody individually.

    😂

    But apparently people noticed.

    And then I got on my kiddo’s bus.

    He stood up.

    Looked at me.

    Looked at the bus monitor.

    Looked back at me.

    And just—

    smiled.

    This huge smile.

    🤣

    He genuinely looked flabbergasted for a second.

    Like his brain needed a minute to process:

    Wait.

    She’s back?!

    Then he finally remembered he was supposed to grab his bag and get off the bus.

    He spent the rest of the day running back over to me for hugs and back scratches.

    Although I’m pretty sure he missed my nails more than he actually missed me.

    😂

    And apparently he wasn’t the only one.

    Wednesday evening, Sissy and Doodoo called wanting apples.

    So obviously I grabbed my last three apples, a Fudge Round, and a Nutty Bar and went over there.

    We played.

    Had a little dance party.

    Snuggled.

    And at one point I had a kid on each hip while another one tried climbing up my leg, slipped on my pajama pants, and pulled my pants down with him.

    ☠️🤣

    My sister had to pull them back up for me.

    When I left, Pooh Boy threw a tantrum because he wanted to stay the night.

    Then Thursday morning my sister told me he’d been up crying because he wanted to stay with me.

    😭

    And Thursday night, after Doodoo and Pooh Boy spent the evening at my house, Mom took them home.

    I was still on the phone with my sister when they pulled up, and Doodoo was crying.

    He had been perfectly fine when he left my house, so I asked what happened.

    My sister opened his door.

    And there he was, crying:

    “Blah Blah!”

    🥲

    Baby.

    I told him I had to work the next day, but I could come get him afterward and he could stay with me all weekend.

    He stopped crying and said okay.

    My babies.

    😭

    It breaks my whole soul when they cry because they want to stay with me and I can’t keep them.

    But between them and my kiddo at work this week, I realized something:

    being missed is a really strange kind of love.

    You aren’t there to see the moment somebody notices you’re gone.

    You just come back and find the space they were holding for you.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    This week, I’m grateful that I got to come back.

    Back to work.

    Back to my kiddo.

    Back to some kind of normal routine.

    Even if my body isn’t completely caught up yet.

    Wednesday made that VERY clear.

    My hips and sides were killing me. I only made it two laps around the track before I needed to sit down.

    I don’t know how much of it was from being off my feet for so long, how much was from surgery and still healing, or how much my period was contributing.

    But my body definitely needs some time to get used to being back.

    Thursday, my lower back was in knots badly enough that Mom had to bring me a pain patch at work.

    I didn’t transition my kiddo nearly as much as I probably should have because I was hurting, and he was not thrilled about that.

    Which I understand.

    His routine changed because I couldn’t do what I normally do.

    And meanwhile, Wednesday he had thrown his only tantrum of the day because I told him to take a break from working and go play.

    🤣

    Apparently I returned to a tiny workaholic.

    But despite the pain and despite realizing that getting back to normal might take a little longer than I wanted—

    I got to go back.

    And overall?

    My first day back was really good.

    I’m grateful for that.

    😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”

    I had options this week.

    So many options.

    Doodoo had a pull-up situation that very much justified why we call him Doodoo, while repeatedly announcing:

    “I SHIT!”

    Yes, sir.

    Yes, you did.

    And you stink.

    🤣

    Then there was Doodoo trying to manipulate Mawmaw Nesi into letting him go back outside after I already told him no.

    Me: “You trying to get Mawmaw in trouble?”

    Doodoo:

    “Yeah!”

    At least he’s honest.

    😂

    There was Pooh Boy climbing out of the bathtub by himself.

    There was my vacuum still sounding like a motorcycle until I finally got down on the floor and changed the brush.

    There was my sister dropping her vape into the bathtub.

    There was the return of the Medusa doorbell—which, apparently, I have now learned to weaponize against children.

    “Line up or I’ll push the button!”

    Everybody lined up.

    Somebody started crying in the car?

    I held up Medusa.

    Silence.

    ☠️🤣

    Last week that damn thing scared the absolute shit out of me.

    This week?

    I’m considering buying one.

    Character development.

    🤣

    But none of those win.

    Because Pooh Boy—

    my sweet little Pooh Boy—

    has apparently decided that walking normally is beneath him.

    Thursday, he was outside playing with the Frozen ride-on toy. Mawmaw Nesi had tied a rope around it because the boys can’t figure out how to scoot that particular one across the grass.

    Pooh Boy somehow got the rope wrapped around both arms and one leg.

    He wasn’t hurt.

    He wasn’t in danger.

    He was just tired, frustrated, and apparently convinced that the appropriate response was to roll around in the grass screaming.

    I kept telling him:

    “Pooh Boy, come here and I’ll help you.”

    He’d look at me.

    Reach toward me.

    Cry.

    And then—

    GO BACK TO ROLLING AROUND.

    ☠️

    Eventually, he got unstuck and went back to playing.

    Cool.

    Crisis over.

    I looked down at my phone for approximately two seconds to read a text from my sister.

    I looked back up.

    Mawmaw Nesi was running toward the slide.

    And Pooh Boy was standing—

    STANDING—

    at the top of it.

    Laughing his little ass off.

    He didn’t climb the ladder.

    Mawmaw Nesi watched him.

    HE WALKED STRAIGHT UP THE SLIDE.

    All the way.

    Without falling.

    Sir.

    You cannot take TWO STEPS across solid ground without randomly falling over.

    But you can apparently scale playground equipment like a fucking mountain goat?!

    IN TWO SECONDS?!

    ☠️☠️☠️

    I don’t understand him.

    I have stopped trying.

    And now it’s Sunday night.

    The boys stayed with us this weekend.

    There were a LOT of dinosaurs.

    Doodoo and I watched every Jurassic Park/Jurassic World movie Hulu had on Saturday because that baby loves his dinosaurs. 😂

    My sister touched up my hair.

    The boys got to stay up a little late.

    We all slept until nine this morning.

    Doodoo and I got one more dinosaur cuddle in before I took him home.

    Then I spent the afternoon with my friend taking pictures.

    And naturally, as soon as I got home, my sister called because she needed me to take her to get a new vape after dropping hers in the bathtub.

    😂

    She did get me one of those real-fruit TikTok ice creams, though.

    The mango one.

    And omggggg.

    DELICIOUS.

    Unfortunately, cold things trigger my asthma, so now I’m fighting an asthma attack because apparently even eating ice cream has to come with consequences.

    ☠️

    Stupid body.

    Stupid cold things.

    Stupid asthma.

    And now it’s after seven.

    Dinner still needs to be cooked.

    I’m exhausted.

    And I have work tomorrow.

    But compared with how this week started?

    I’ll take it.

    I started the week curled up in pain, wondering how much longer I can keep doing this.

    I’m ending it with freshly touched-up hair, a camera full of pictures, a weekend full of dinosaurs and babies, and the knowledge that apparently Medusa can control an entire group of children faster than any adult in this family.

    😂

    Not a bad ending.

    Now somebody please cook dinner for me.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. What’s one completely ordinary thing from your week that ended up meaning more to you than you expected?

  • 🕷️ Learning to Look Closer #9 — I Looked. I Regret It.

    Usually, Learning to Look Closer is about noticing the things we might otherwise miss.

    The light coming through the trees.

    The colors hiding in a sunset.

    The tiny details we walk past every day because we’re too busy looking somewhere else.

    It’s supposed to be about slowing down.

    Paying attention.

    Finding something beautiful in the ordinary.

    Well.

    I looked closer.

    I would like to formally withdraw my previous advice. 😂

    I’ve been sick all week.

    And somewhere between laying in bed, watching entirely too much television, and feeling like my head was approximately 97% congestion, I decided it would be a good idea to go through all of my clothes.

    Because apparently being sick wasn’t enough suffering.

    So there I was.

    Surrounded by clothes.

    Completely out of energy.

    Ready to give up on the entire project and crawl back into bed.

    And then I looked up.

    There he was.

    A spider.

    Just chilling above my bedroom door.

    In my bedroom.

    Rent free.

    Like he had somewhere to be and I was interrupting him.

    Now, there is something you should probably know about me.

    I am terrified of spiders.

    Not uncomfortable.

    Not “Ew, a spider.”

    Terrified.

    And naturally, this little asshole had positioned himself somewhere I couldn’t reach him.

    So I did what any brave, capable, independent 33-year-old woman would do.

    I stared at him while trying to figure out how the hell I was going to kill him without getting close enough for him to potentially touch me.

    There was just one problem.

    I looked away.

    For approximately half a second.

    When I looked back—

    he was gone.

    Do you know what’s worse than seeing a spider in your bedroom?

    NOT SEEING THE SPIDER YOU JUST SAW IN YOUR BEDROOM.

    Because now we have options.

    Is he behind the dresser?

    Under the bed?

    On the ceiling?

    Did he leave?

    Is he currently watching me write this?

    WHERE DID YOU GO, SIR?

    And why were you so fucking fast?! 😭

    I read something once about jumping spiders that said they tend to have their own little routines.

    They supposedly wander around the same areas doing their tiny spider business, so if you suddenly notice one somewhere you normally don’t, maybe you’re the one who stepped outside your usual routine.

    I have absolutely no idea how scientifically accurate that is.

    But I’ve been thinking about it.

    Because maybe he’s been here before.

    Maybe while I’ve been living my life, sleeping in my bed and minding my own business, this tiny creature has been living an entire little life alongside mine.

    Taking the same routes.

    Visiting the same places.

    Doing whatever the hell spiders do all day.

    And I simply never noticed him.

    Until our routines crossed.

    Which is actually kind of fascinating.

    I hate it.

    But it’s fascinating. 😂

    Maybe there’s something to that.

    There are entire little worlds existing around us all the time.

    Things happening in corners we never look toward.

    Creatures following routines we know nothing about.

    Tiny lives intersecting with ours for a few seconds before disappearing again.

    Sometimes looking closer means noticing a beautiful sunset.

    Sometimes it means noticing the way two people love each other.

    Sometimes it means finding something extraordinary hiding inside something completely ordinary.

    And sometimes—

    you look up while sorting clothes and discover that you apparently have a roommate.

    A roommate who has now disappeared somewhere inside your bedroom.

    So perhaps Learning to Look Closer needs one small amendment:

    Pay attention to the world around you.

    Notice the little things.

    Look for what you normally overlook.

    But occasionally?

    Mind your fucking business.

    Because now I know there’s a spider somewhere in my bedroom.

    And I can never unknow it.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. If you happen to know where my new roommate went, no you don’t. I would actually prefer to sleep tonight. 🕷️😭

  • Learning to Look Closer #8

    I almost didn’t take this picture.

    There wasn’t anything particularly exciting happening.

    I wasn’t somewhere new.

    There wasn’t a perfect, wide-open view of the sunset.

    There were just trees.

    A lot of them, actually. 😂

    Branches everywhere. Power lines near the bottom. One tree that looks like it gave up on having leaves before everybody else.

    And somewhere behind all of it, the sky was glowing.

    So I stopped.

    And I looked up.

    The sunset wasn’t perfectly framed. The trees blocked most of it. I couldn’t see the horizon, and there was no way to get a “better” view without going somewhere else.

    But I didn’t really want a better view.

    I liked this one.

    Because the light kept finding little places to come through.

    Between the branches.

    Through the leaves.

    Around the trees.

    Little pieces of gold tucked into all that darkness.

    And the longer I stood there looking at it, the more there was to see.

    There was still blue hiding at the top of the sky.

    Soft pink mixed into the clouds.

    Bright yellow and orange burning through the thickest parts of the trees.

    Living branches tangled together with bare ones.

    None of it was neat.

    None of it was unobstructed.

    And somehow, that made it prettier.

    I think sometimes we get so used to looking for the perfect view that we forget to appreciate the one we actually have.

    We want the sunset without the power lines.

    The sky without the branches.

    The picture without anything getting in the way.

    But maybe everything in the way is part of the picture, too.

    Maybe the trees weren’t blocking the sunset.

    Maybe they were showing me where the light was.

    So, I took the picture.

    Not because it was perfect.

    Just because I looked up at the right moment and thought,

    Oh.

    That’s pretty.

    And sometimes, that’s reason enough.

    —Destiny

    P.S. When was the last time you stopped to look at something ordinary long enough to realize it was actually kind of beautiful?