Father's Day 2013

It seemed like the third time in as many days that we had to backtrack, break down the miscommunication, apologize to each other, offer reassurance, make a new plan, and then try to invent humor or romance out of dry air to move forward with our evening together on a positive note. This from a couple who usually never fights.

Unaccustomed to my happily ever after being shaken up, I wanted to know what the deal was.

"I'm trying to be everything I need to be here. It's hard."

I suddenly saw him as I first saw him, and realized in a moment how much he has had to change for us. The first time I met him he was 24 and still wearing his college wardrobe, almost hyperactively trying to impress me. His business was just taking off and he had more money than he knew what to do with. He cut his own hair, spent all his time with his friends, and had more light moments than serious ones. He could get his work done in one sitting without getting interrupted. His most important family role was to be a good son. He was always available when a friend needed him and he saw all the new movies when they came out in theaters. His actions affected only himself. His highest degree of responsibility was to his clients. There were no life or death situations. No one depended on him to be able to eat. He spent every day fending off boredom, and he did it well.

Everything since then has changed, and I suddenly felt sad for asking this of him. As I went along marrying him and making him a father, I didn't really think about how I was also urging him into heavier and heavier responsibility. Before me sits the complete package: loving husband, dependable provider, joyful dad, constant companion, dream chaser. He works so hard for us to be all that he is.

"I'm sorry you had to give up your easy life for this."

And then the same boyish grin and sparkling eyes I saw at my front door on the first night I met him smiled at me and said: "I'm not."

settling in

It's April now and we're doing fine. We've been traveling a lot, fitting in visits with family members before wedding season sets in solid and keeps us in Chicago all summer. Most of my family is in the South, so we're enjoying the warm weather where they are while it continues to snow in Chicago.

My mother in law assured me that at 3 months, babies just settle, and I've found that to be true for Liesel and me and our new life together. It's just getting easier every day. A lot of the ease is because I'm letting go of some expectations I had and just letting our family find its own pace apart from other models and schedules I was trying to copy.

We have our very own dynamic in the Tab house. Unless it's a wedding day, Tim and I are both home working together to juggle baby needs, business needs and household needs. I run the gamut of being a working mom, stay at home mom, and work-at-home mom on any given day. Some days Tim's workload is heavier than mine so I take care of Liesel's needs and on other days I get behind on my own work and Tim takes over with Liesel. It's not a regular schedule or a single-minded task. It wasn't before Liesel either. I tried really hard to get her on a predictable timetable early on but after a couple of months of that not working I've just relaxed into flexibility, because that's the only thing that works and doesn't result in a crying baby, crying me, and stressed out Tim.

I've been so pleased to experience the good changes that have come to our marriage with the addition of our baby. We have a new glue. A new joy. We are stronger together but incomplete without her. She is a new reason to love each other and work together for her good. Part of me was a little afraid that adding a baby would stress out my marriage, and we do have our moments of stress and difference of opinion, but overall we just have this grand new common obsession to experience together. 

I'm so proud of the man I married. When we were dating, I thought once or twice that he would be a good dad and moved on. I had no idea how precious he would be with her. I can't picture these things in my mind before they happen in front of me. Liesel loves him so much. The sound of his voice still makes her stop and reach out, like she did before she was even born. I'm so thankful that I get to parent with him for the rest of our lives.

I'm sinking into my role as a mom with comfort. The stroller pushing, spit-up wiping, baby rocking, nursing, kissing, dressing, diaper-changing...I'm good with this. I know I may struggle in the future, but this is meaningful work for me now and I'm humbled and grateful that I get to feel this way about it. She is an important person. Her life is so valuable and I get to be her caretaker and role model to get her ready to work in and impact her world. But before all that, this time of littleness while she's still all mine is so precious to me.

from venice

Heyo! We're in Florida. This was our first wedding-less weekend since August, and Southwest had a deal so we flew down on the cheap. 

I highly recommend talking your parents into moving somewhere with a beach. Between that and my mom's dishwasher and in-home laundry machines, it's going to be a teensy bit hard going back to Chicago.

This is me with my mom. She's a full time nurse and a part time professor and a part time student finishing up her Master's degree. She also clears her whole schedule when her kids come home to visit. She's completely awesome.

Add in Dad. He can't keep any secrets ever and really loves to make jokes. I was afraid that he might make a joke about my big pregnant belly when he picked us up at the airport and I was also afraid I might be hungry after getting off the plane where they only feed people peanuts on four hour long flights and I was afraid I might kill him if those two potential circumstances came to pass, so I warned him ahead of time to zip it and provide me food lest I become hangry (= hungry + angry), and he did both very well. So he's awesome too. 

What a hunk. Tim has been working so hard since March. Much harder than me, that's for sure, because he carried my work load when I was busy being sick for five months (which is over now, thank God!). He's had so many weeks packed with shoots (read: weeks with little time to catch up on editing) that have necessitated more than a few all-nighters lately. We've been looking forward to this trip as the light at the end of the tunnel of wedding season and it makes me very glad to see him with his relaxed vacation face on. I love that face.

Our work is our bread and butter, and it's damn good work to have. We are blessed and thankful and so happy. We wake up in love every day and relish spending all of our minutes together, toiling our little business, lifting each other to high places and carrying each other through the low spots. I'm still in awe of the goodness of God because none of these things that I have in my life is fair or deserved. I just found it, like a pearl in a field. I gave up everything I had for it, and got back so much more than I surrendered.

Here's the 31 week belly, you guys. I'm ready for it to stop growing, but we have a ways to go. New Tab's been rolling around like crazy and I'm trying so hard to get to know this baby inside me. Is that a foot or an elbow? A hick-up or a kick? Am I carrying a boy or a girl?
Some of my mom's friends threw me a shower this week. They gave me some precious books and yellow ducky baby sized towels and obscure advice from the other side, like "drink in every minute!", "you'll have all you need when you need it", "your birth will be your birth",  and "just take it one day at a time". But I also got some literal pointers too, like "order your diapers off amazon", "expect to wear your maternity clothes for a few months after the birth", and "don't compare yourself to anyone else". I'm very grateful for those ladies and this vacation. It's nice to feel rested and surrounded at a time like this.

Tablife busynesses

September is busy for the Tabs, you guys. We have a record number of weddings on our roster, so we've been spending our every weekday waking hour mesmerized by computer screens and our weekends beholding lots of pretty weddings. We shot an especially sweet one last Saturday. 

Sometimes we'll zone out of the computer glare long enough to realize that it's been a few days since we stepped outside and we need some air. 

I'm learning, slowly, that to step outside my front door while living in Chicago is to step into a swirl of controversial political activity. Whether it's our governor being thrown in jail or our mayor making the whole city angry or our cops getting convicted for murder or our teachers going on strike or the gangs killing each other, or, or...it just never ends. I keep waiting for a peaceful week in this city and I haven't seen one yet. The rhythm and the wind don't stop. I'm trying to get used to this part.

And yet, for all her faults and wounds, Chicago still dazzles me. She is adored by her cantankerous people. She's too pretty to break up with. 

So. We have the constant motion of our work and the restless energy of our city to keep up with, which is more than enough to think about...and then there's me and my condition. Me and my baby. Already changing our lives in every way. 

I finally started keeping a health journal so I can keep track of the varied array of symptoms and side effects I have every day, because the changes are so close and quick that Tim and I both live in a constant state of confusion over what's happening and how to fix me. Nausea, headaches, exhaustion together with insomnia, extreme hunger, sore joints, heartburn, forgetfulness, swollen blood vessels, frayed emotions. It's all there each day and, praise God, it's all normal. Nothing about it is predictable, and nothing is out of the ordinary at the same time. It is hard, but it is beautiful and good at the same time. Even as I sit here quietly right now, my heart is pounding so hard I can hear it and feel the drum beating throughout my whole body. It has more work to do than normal. The baby bounces and turns and kicks my belly visibly out in dramatic motions that shake my shirt. I pass the mirror on my way into the shower and am shocked to see bright blue lines tracing highways under my skin, expertly navigating an extra 50% of my normal blood supply through me and to the baby. It's all incredible, and I have never been more thankful for my health or positively sure that my body is fearfully and wonderfully made, and a divine creator's power alone is effortlessly building another body deep inside mine and this new person already has a soul and life purpose for the outside world. 

I'm sure of that, and I'm sure of how bad my feet hurt.

Tim has been an incredible source of strength for me. I am not carrying this baby alone, ever. The man is a saint. He rubs my feet and washes endless dishes and when I'm restlessly trying to get comfortable next to him at 4am he reaches his hand over and says: "you've had a hard night, babe." I never have to fight for justification.

And for goodness sake, he goes and gets me things. Is it not the most annoying thing in the world when someone asks you to go get them something? A glass of water from the kitchen? The laundry from the dryer (which is down 4 flights of steps in the basement of our building)? Dinner from the takeout place? A very specific piece of clothing from the basket of clean laundry that he washed and I have yet to fold? Can you just get that for me, babe? He always says yes, letting me save my energy for the important things. He's amazing.

And whenever I have the energy, I try really hard to be amazing back to him. I was domestic in the kitchen and productive in the office today. It felt really good. Life is good. 

61 years

I love this picture that Tim took of my grandparents this summer. Sitting together, waiting together. 

Doris and Bill Brown, married 61 years. 

on the job. together.

I never thought I'd be the type of person who could work with my spouse. When Tim first broached the idea of me joining him in his business, the idea was intimidating. I told him I wouldn't do it.

There were lots of factors playing into the situation. One of us had to move to be near the other, and we decided together that it would be in the eventual best interest of both of us for him to not give up or displace his business (we knew we were probably getting married). That meant I had to quit my job and move to Chicago. Coincidentally, all this happened during his biggest year yet in his wedding photography business, and he needed help. All signs pointed toward me working with him, but I was resistant.

In the world of wedding photography, it's pretty common for couples to work together. But I wasn't in that world yet. It wasn't the idea of working with him that scared me, it was the idea of working for him. I loved boundaries and independence and earning my own wage and dropping it in my own bank account.  I also loved catching my own mistakes early and fixing them before anyone else saw my error. I knew I would have a lot to learn and I would be putting myself on really shaky ground by having my boyfriend be my boss and letting him teach me a new trade and give me a paycheck. It didn't sound safe. 

As we made plans for my move, I started applying for lots of jobs. Looking back, I was ultimately acting on distrust for Tim and pride in myself and fear of failure as a photographer. I wasn't getting any job offers, and Tim was patient and intent on proving himself to be trustworthy. He kept letting me know that he wanted me to be happy in whatever job I chose to do, but his offer stood open in case I wanted to work with him.

Then he asked me to marry him. There's a lot packed into that question. It's really a question of many questions, a whole book of questions, and one of them is: "will you trust me to take care of you?". Also; "will you allow me to provide for you?". And I said yes to him, so some strongholds that I needed to survive being single had to fall away. I agreed to work with him.

So, Tim works from home five days a week. This I knew. This meant that we would be together all the time. Forty plus hours per week of time together spent on work alone, not to mention free time and wedding planning time and dating-each-other time. We'd never even lived in the same city at that point. It was going to be a steep transition, and I was afraid of conflict. But we moved forward. I cried tears of loss as we drove away from Kansas City with my life packed in my car, and cheered for the joy of a new beginning when we saw the Chicago skyline. The next day, we started working together.

He handed over client communications to me first, and I mean really handed it over and let me do it all without looking over my shoulder. For a girl who majored in Interpersonal and Public Communications, and who was also planning her own wedding, I couldn't have asked for a more well-suited job than emailing with brides to put them at ease about our part of their wedding day. I loved the work, Tim had hated that part, and suddenly he had about 20 more hours per week to work on editing pictures. I could see the immediate difference I was making in improving his workflow and stress level, and I loved it.

And then he put his cameras in my hands. I didn't even know how to use them (I had plenty of experience being an amateur with my own DSLR, but none with his professional grade equipment) but the clients were only paying for Tim's services, so whatever I added to their wedding pictures was gravy and it was a low-pressure environment to learn. It was kind of like getting thrown in the deep end of the pool with a couple of arm floaties. On our way to our second wedding together, Tim told me that he would usually get that pitted feeling in his stomach right before every wedding, but with me by his side he wasn't nervous anymore. I started to realize that he wasn't measuring the support I brought to him from a purely monetary perspective like I was.

I shot twenty weddings with him that first season, all for free to the clients so I could learn all that I needed before we added my second-shooting services to his new contracts. I learned so much during that time and gained a whole new confidence in myself as a worker in a new field. I started calling myself a photographer. This didn't feel like dependence, that icky word I feared as a single person. It felt like partnership. 

We've been at this for over a year now, closing in on our second wedding season together, and we've gotten really good at being a team. I can tell when he's under pressure and I know how to help him. He can tell when I'm struggling with a new technical situation and he always has the answer. 

And we have so much fun. If I had any idea how much fun this job would be, I never would have resisted in the first place. This is a no alarm clock job. We get to attend dance parties every week, we see people at their very best and happiest (...usually). Even when it's hard, it's still fun. We work until we're so tired it's hard to make it up the stairs at night, but we like working hard and we like working a lot.

We gets lots of different reactions when we tell people we work together, and they always make us smile. We know we've got a unique dynamic going on here, but it's perfect for us and if we wanted to change it, we would. 

It takes humility and gentleness to make this work relationship work. All that we do on the job is on display to each other and that can be hard, because we can't hide our mistakes when we make them. I get grumpy when I get tired, and he gets grumpy when he gets hungry, and being tired and hungry is part of almost every wedding day, so we get stretched and have to work not to hurt each other's feelings, and then be quick to apologize when we do.

But as long we keep putting our client's and each other's needs ahead of our own, working together doesn't cost our relationship anything, it only adds to it. All the time we get to spend together--have to spend together--is a good thing. My fears of not being able to survive without copious amounts of alone time (classic introvert here) evaporated somewhere along the way of settling into our marriage and work arrangement. 

And some people still think I quit my old job and didn't pick up another "real one". And that's okay. I am a stay-at-home wife just as much as Tim is a stay-at-home husband. We're just usually doing the above all day long at our stay-at-home job.
Except when we're busy trespassing and such :)

One year!

Today is our one year anniversary! We're not really sure how to celebrate an anniversary because we've never had one before. And we ate the top layer of our wedding cake the last time we were down in Florida visiting my parents. We needed dessert on a particular night and I couldn't exactly pack a frozen layer of cake in my suitcase back to Chicago, so you know.

So far today I've gotten a haircut. I bonded with a new stylist named George (or Georgie?) whom I might call my own from now on because I love my new hair and he's very kind and gave me a hug on my way out and called me sweetie. It's so great to have someone you trust cut your hair, no? Was I supposed to be focusing on my anniversary?

Anyways, then I stopped by Trader Joe's on my way home and bought Tim all his favorite treats. Meaty lasagna (I don't make lasagna from scratch. takes too long), frozen pizza, chocolate raspberry candies, and those mochi Japanese ice cream things that I don't like. While I was standing in the frozen aisle, my dad called and sang me the anniversary song. It's an original. 

I got some excitement and kisses out of my guy when I got home because I have hot new hair and his favorite treats. Happy anniversary, baby. Then we started working and now the day is escaping so we need to go out and do something celebratory. Oh, and we ordered our crib! Super great.

I couldn't resist posting some wedding pictures because I'm reminiscing a lot today. Our wedding is a beautiful, beautiful memory. 

 It's funny though, the ritual and celebration we performed one year ago today in front of 80 people was nothing compared to being launched into the work and joy of marriage that we've been privately experiencing since then. It's so very, very good. This year has seen us wrapped in a cocoon of safe and gentle transition into marriage. We are better at loving each other now than we were a year ago. I thought he was amazing when I married him, but he's so much better than what I was aware of even then. Marriage too. It gets a bad wrap a lot and I was scared of it a little, but marriage can be a profoundly good thing and I'm very glad I'm signed up for life. I want many more years with my Frenchman.

a post about AC units

This summer has been rough on our love affair with our apartment. Remember our perfect apartment?

When we were deciding to live here, I spent not one second contemplating the fact that it didn't have central air. It just didn't occur to me. It was winter, and this place had beautiful light pouring in from huge windows in every room and offered free radiator heat. Free heat! In Chicago! We were going to save thousands.

And we probably did. From February to May, life here was so comfortable and our monthly bills are a fraction of what we used to pay to heat and cool a townhouse. But then, summer set in early and weather records starting getting broken with the heat. Right around the same time, I started to get sick. At 5 weeks pregnant, I was nauseated and depleted of energy and started getting very sensitive to temperature and odor, and then we had a couple of 100 degree days.

It was a bad mix.

We went out and bought an air conditioning unit, and it was $150, which is fine for one AC unit, but we weren't going to buy any more at that price. Tim installed it in our bedroom and for the whole month of June, I spent my days and nights in that room working on my laptop and napping and vomiting and generally being pregnant. Tim toughed it out in the office (where we used to spend all of our working hours together) until he could stand it no longer and bought another $150 AC unit to give him some relief. Those two little units allowed us to work and sleep, but didn't improve much else at home. Call me cheap, but I wasn't willing to spend any more than $300 on improving a situation in an an apartment that we might not even live in next year. It would have cost us another $600 to outfit the rest of the rooms in our apartment with new AC units, and that was neither appealing nor in the budget.

Leaving the protective igloo of our air conditioned bedroom to run an errand or even go to the bathroom brought on a wave of heat, which brought on a wave of nausea, and I was so miserable. Those beautiful big windows in every room ushered in the full heat of the sun, and being on the top floor only increased the temperature as heat wafted up through the floorboards. Turning on the oven to cook dinner brought the kitchen to over 110 degrees, so we ate sandwiches. I left windows open to try to catch a breeze, and with it came extra dust that coated the floors. By the end of July, I was talking about moving out.

I was so mad at the situation. How could my life be made so difficult by the absence of one modern invention? Tim and I both grew up without air conditioning (albeit, in a cooler climate) and we survived. I hated the feeling that buying more really expensive stuff would make me happy, and had resentment that being pregnant was turning an irritating situation into an unbearable one just because of hormones and the fact that my body was changing outside of my control and couldn't take the heat. The absolute worst part of all this, the part that made it all plainly sad and unlivable, was that when Tim would reach for a hug, I couldn't return the affection without an inward grimace. He's just a big, warm man, and I was forever overheated and pukey.

And then last week, salvation came. We saw our downstairs neighbors packing up and moving out. Soon their kitchen window, which we had to walk by in order to get to our car, was bare and displayed a totally empty apartment save for 4 AC units grouped on the tile floor. We acted immediately by leaving a note on their door asking if we could PLEASE buy those units from them? And they called back and said yes, we could have all four for $100.

I don't have a moral to this story. Life in my home is livable and enjoyable again, and it's because of stuff. I don't know where we'll put them in the winter when we need to seal our windows again, and I don't know if we'll be able to recuperate any of the money we spent on these when we eventually move out, but I can cook a meal in my oven and eat at the kitchen table with my husband and hug him for a long time without having to pull away. So.