I am breathing again, slowly realizing that I am not on my own anymore. Not that I stopped breathing, ever. But it does feel like when Gurvan left, back in October, I took a deep deep breath and immersed myself in my solo-mama role. So much that all my energy merged towards my babies needs and well-being. While I managed to post photos here and there on Instagram, I failed at keeping up with this little blog of mine. I tried. I sat down a few times when both sweethearts were sleeping, I wrote a few posts, sharing about my emotions but nothing sounded good enough to me. I was so deeply exhausted that my brain couldn't word my feelings properly. I feel guilty for not fighting enough. Though I am emerging from a long fight against the deepest exhaustion of all. The internet is a tricky world, one that may empower us, one that may reveal our weaknesses. This corner I created is important to me. My Ego truly doesn't care who will read this but my Soul needs to do her talking through writing. It is who I am. I have dearly missed threading words together. I did a lot of talking with myself, by myself, all those long long days when I didn't get to talk to an adult for longer than I ever thought would be possible. 
So while I did share photos on my Instagram account (and that's really all the online socializing I have done), I haven't made time to post the last few photos of my 52 project in 2016 here. It is so easy to let weeks after weeks go by. It was the purpose of the project when I started it two years ago : a creative  d i s c i p l i n e. I have come to realize that I need this discipline, it has helped tremendously with my non-practical-self. I didn't know I needed that discipline so badly until I let go of it a few month ago. Things happen in life, we can't control it all and sometimes we just have to go with the flow and sleep when we need to but the best part about life is that it is all up to us to get back on track. 
So here are a few of the portraits taken in late 2016. 
I can not wait to sit here again and share all that I have been meaning to share. Feelings mostly. Life lessons. Photography. I can't tell you to tune in every Monday morning (or Friday night for that matter) for a blog update but I can tell you that I am not letting go of this space. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech and Marlowe : I never knew how powerful I was until you showed me. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : November 8th 2016. As I shot this little portrait of you, I thought we would have the first woman president by dawn. I could not have been more wrong. We were right outside of the polling place. While I voted, Marlowe was resting against my chest and you were holding on to my leg, intimidated by all the people standing in line. 

Marlowe : As I quickly edited this little photo of you, looking all grown up, I realized that we have spent every single night sleeping together since you were born. I remembered the first days, when you were so tiny that you entire body seemed to fit in the palm of my hands. I would sleep half laid-down, half-seated with you all against my chest, I knew these were moments I had to take and cherish while they lasted. You don't fit in the palm of my hands anymore but you still sleep by my side, every single night. I know it won't last for ever but for now, I am immensely grateful for each and every night you let me share my bed with you. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : you asked me why the trees were so high. I told you that they probably wanted to say hello to the sun. You looked at me and with some magical spark in your eyes, your genuine-self said : "no no, I think they want to tickle the clouds"
How amazing would the world be if we could all keep our softest sweetest innocence, for ever. 

Marlowe : This is routine for you. Your brother just can't keep his hands off of you. You sometimes request your space but as soon as he leaves you, you look for him. You laugh when he laughs, you cry when he cries. I am your mama witnessing your sibling love growing a little stronger everyday, trying to keep my sanity when both of you are screaming bloody murder, sometimes failing [at keeping my sanity] but then I sit down and start editing photos [of you, obviously - because you two truly are my life right now] and it feels like someone is pouring love all over me. Intense days. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : a muffin did not fool you. You saw your papa pack his luggage. You know the airport now. And you knew we were about to say good-bye to your favorite man in this world. 

Marlowe : you were your happy-mellow-self. Miss cool. I can only imagine how hard it was for your papa to let go of you.

Note to myself : this was taken on October 19th. I have officially fallen way behind on this little portraiture project. The photos are taken (high five-me). The computer is full. My days are fuller. But I still have a few weeks to catch up before the end of this intense year. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech, Marlowe : The day we planted our first tree on our very own piece of land the very first day we officially owned it. We are still quite in disbelief. It all happened so fast yet it is something we have been waiting for and hoping for years. Dreaming about it every day. Our land. What a journey. Thinking that I got ourselves in escrow the only month Gurvan had been away from us in the last three years. Calling him and asking him if he trusted me in spending all of our savings for a land he had not seen. Not doubting for a second that he'd love it. Knowing I had to act fast. That it would be gone by the time he would come home. Crossing my fingers. Holding by breath when the seller's agent tried to get us out of escrow because they had obviously received a better offer. Not failing. Not doubting, again. My instinct guiding me, not letting space for hesitant thoughts. Taking friends and more friends there to comfort the intuition. Picking up your dad from the airport. Signing on my birthday. Closing the deal for good on your papa's birthday. It has been ours for a little over two weeks now and I am filled with gratitude everyday. It's raw. It's beautiful. The soil is so good. And the view is the unexpected cherry on top of it all. 
We are in for a new adventure. One that involves drawings and plans and foundations and permits and building. Our home will be small at first but our dreams remain big. To think that the day will come when you will have your own bedrooms in your own home makes my mama's heart so full. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : Anxiously waiting for your papa at the airport. You had been waiting an entire month for this moment. I could tell you were overwhelmed by the amount of people around us. I know you don't love being surrounded by a big crowd. You couldn't see clearly, afraid to miss him. When he finally arrived, his eyes lit up at your sight and you got all excited and shy at the same time. Giving him his lei we had made earlier in the morning then running away, grabbing my legs until you realized it was him, for real. You ran back in his arms all the while holding your sister's hand, like you always do. 

Marlowe : You were so right to give him the thumb up. He had been working [and partying -wife's sigh-] really hard while away. The amount of stress and exhaustion he had undergone was real and readable in each and every lines of his visage. But you were your usual happy-cuddly-baby and his tears of joy were as powerful as the love he has for you and your brother. 

Airports heartbreaking goodbyes and joyful welcome-backs are back in our lives. It was a first time for both of you but I have  10 years worth of experience and I will do my best to help you navigate this roller-coaster of emotions. As hard as it is, it somehow feels right. You two can be proud of your arborist-tree-climber-slash-tanker-captain-papa. And never, ever doubt the love he has for you. It is so strong and beautiful, it fuels our lives everyday and gives both of us the strength to write this new chapter of our life. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : your Frenglish is quite hilarious at the moment. I want to write down all those sentences and words made up by your innocent three-year-old-self. I am amazed every day at all the vocabulary you pick up. You have started to tell me and Marlowe that you missed us if you don't see us for a little bit which melts my soft mama's heart. 

Marlowe : your eyes brighten at the sight of your brother. You laugh at him and laugh with him. You have changed so much lately, becoming so much more aware of everything that's happening around you. You want to be part of it all. You love standing on your feet and lift your butt up as high as you can. Today you reached your arms out to me which made me feel the most special and luckiest person in the world. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : this may not be the best shot ever but I do want to remember this jumper. Sorry baby.

Marlowe : Food diversification [WHAT ALREADY??]. Not my favorite part of motherhood I'll admit. Don't you want to breastfeed for e v e r ? But we are working on it. You like pears and bananas. You love sucking on a carrot. Potatoes ain't your favorite. Poi (mashed taro) is so so and I'm not sure starting with the most sugary-delicious-pineapple was my best idea ...but then it was so good I had to share with you, right?

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week in 2016

My dear Manech and Marlowe, now that it's just the three of us, on top of everything else that can been found in our car (talk about minimalism...dammit), I manage to squeeze in my tripod. I want to make sure I capture all of the adventures I intend to take you on. I want to remember this empowering feeling that came instead of the panic I was somewhat expecting when your papa left. I want to force myself to make it into the frame (hence our tripod companion) because it's us, me and you, everyday and night. And I know one day I will look back and wonder how on earth I managed to function with so little sleep. Hopefully by then you will be loving and caring for your old maman. You don't and won't owe me anything, ever, but breakfast in bed...10am...one day, maybe? And I'll get to pick the book we'll read?