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March 2026

The Stork and the Beanstalk

A Mother's Journal

A photo journal comprised of my thoughts on motherhood and other life happenings, as well
as some of professional work as a photographer. Southern California is home.

Month: January 2014

Riding on bikes with boys

by Ashley filed under Bits + Pieces, Hooper, Motherhood

Have you ever rode a bike with a toddler? I remember my mom declaring that her back was never the same after teaching us to ride our bikes. We’re not there yet with Hoop; we’re still in the training wheel phase. But, in some ways, it’s equally torturous.

“What’s that, Mama?”

He stops riding and I practically walk in to his back tire cuz I’m riding his ass.

“Sounds like some sirens off in the distance”.

“I want to see”, he says.

“Sounds like they’re gone”, and we re-mount and ride along. I ride his ass because he’s going slow.

“Wook-at-dat, Mama!”

We stop to pick some dandelions. He sniffs them and there is yellow pollen that makes a Hitler-like mustache under his nose.

Re-mount. Ride his tail.

A few yards later, we stop again. This time, we pick up sticks. Then some acorns. I answer ten more questions about the various sounds he hears.

It’s so easy to get stuck in A to B mode. When he asks to go on a bike ride, which he does daily these days, I think about leaving the house, the route we’ll take, and how that route will lead us back to the house. His mind, in it’s beautiful infancy, works much different; it’s all about the space between… The sights, the sounds,

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the things he can collect. Hashtag: things you can learn from a toddler.

Slow down, Mamas, and enjoy the ride. I don’t walk so close behind him anymore.

A Family Session, with The Allen Family

by Ashley filed under Photography

A lot of photographers speak to the lack of photos that they take of their own children, opting often for their iPhones and saving their “real cameras” for shoots only. This has never been me. In fact, I’m finding that I’m growing bored of shooting my own children and am actually yearning and craving and dreaming of shooting other people, places, and families. Walking up to a family’s doorstep is like stepping foot into the office on the first day of the job every time. And I’m addicted to that nervous, anxious rush that it brings. I’m dying to shoot more. If you’re interested in scheduling a shoot or want to work together on a project, email me: ashley {at} thestorkandthebeanstalk {dot} com for more info. I have a special deal going on for those who book now for the month of April. Because I value my time with my family and also because I’m still in the throws of recovery, I’ll only be booking a couple sessions a month. I’d love to hear from you.

Hooper @ 3.2 years

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Motherhood, Parenting

Growth & Appearance: You’ve grown taller and when you’re in shorts you can see just how long and skinny your little legs are. The weather has been windy and you’ve developed a horrible habit of licking around your mouth, resulting in redness and chapped skin. You look like you’ve just finished eating spaghetti with marinara sauce, always. You’re more inclined to wearing hats and you look adorable in the one hat we did buy you.

You’re wearing size 3T clothes and are in size 8 shoes.

Eating: You hate being messy and oftentimes prefer your Papa or I feeding you to avoid having to touch your food or potentially spill on yourself. Really though, I think you’re just not that interested in what you’re eating. You have no problem getting your hands dirty with french fry grease. You can still be a pain in the ass from time to time but the table is a far cry from the battlefield it used to be. We’ve all learned how to peacefully go on and we’ve let go of a lot of the distraction techniques we used to use (ie, TV during dinner).

You love bread, eggo waffles, yogurt covered raisins, bacon, pasta (you love carbs, in general), and lately, carrots. Despite these favorites, you do eat rather healthy. We rarely allow you to eat pure junk. Things like french fries are a rare treat.

The other day I caught you hiding behind the door in the office, eating banana bread with the sliest grin on your face.

Sleeping: Naps are a rarity. Every now and then we can tell you need one and – sometimes – you’ll take one. You’ve been getting up earlier, around 7:30, which feels like a drastic difference to the days you’d sleep until 8:30. With that said, you sleep through the night with ease.

We bought you bunk beds with intentions of moving your brother in with you. You sleep on the top bunk and love it.

Talking: You say whatever you are thinking and ask about every noise or new thing you see.

Favorite sayings:

“Sorry ’bout dat Mama” (said after that time you hit me, while driving, in the back of the head with a stick)

“Waffo ready” (every time the toaster pops up, regardless of what’s in it)

“Waz dat?” (constant, these days)

“I want to hit Van” (gotta love honesty)

“Going?” (where are we going?)

“Baby fire truck” (aka ambulance)

Development: I took you to your first movie, “Walking with Dinosaurs”. It was about an hour and a half long and I came prepared with snacks to hold your attention. At one point, after getting up and down like a little whack-a-mole a thousand times, you said to me “go home, mama”. The movie sucked anyway, so I asked you to pick my purse up off the floor (I’m still on bending restrictions). You picked it up from the bottom, the contents spilling all over the place. We had to stick it out until the end when the lights came on. I retrieved my lip stick under the seats in the first aisle. It’ll be a while before I take you again.

You can ride your bike, with ease, with training wheels. We duct taped your feet to the wheels to get you started because you refused to use the pedals initially. Within seconds after removing the duct tape, you were off. You ask to go for bike rides numerous times throughout the day.

You still write with your left hand and ride your scooter with your left foot, but throw with your right hand.

You stopped sucking your two fingers a few months ago and it kinda breaks your Papa and I’s heart.

You love picking your nose and eating it.

You’re full blown potty trained and able to pull down your own pants. You lift up your ding-a-ling and threaten to pee on me often. When I tell you “no”, you proceed to point it toward the bathtub or sink or wall or trash and ask if you can pee on these things instead. The answer is the same. You prefer to crap at home.

You started preschool in the beginning of December and seem to enjoy it minus a few long faces when your Papa or I leave.

You like going on adventures, but often ask “going home?” at some point.

You love to play pretend. You’ve been a cat a lot lately and meow a lot. You ask to be pet and call your hands your paws. You also like to make pretend meals with your fake food. You also wear your cowboy boots and refer to them as your “firemen boots”.

You’re a bit bossy and seem to think you’re in charge at times. You tell us often to “stop it” and also feel as though it’s your own duty to scold Van.

Favorites: You watched the Wizard of Oz and loved it. You love playing the “get me” game. You love cars and trucks and asked Santa for a “big truck” for Christmas. He delivered. You could watch videos of trackers on YouTube all day long. I’ve added things like excavator, impact hammer, and digger to my daily vocabulary. You also love playing “mailman”, where you go around the house delivering “packages”. You love cats and collecting coins and making piles of sticks.

Preschool

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Motherhood, Parenting

We’ve known for a while that Hooper was ready for preschool. It happened about the time he stopped taking his marathon naps (seriously, sometimes they were up to 4 hours long) and insisted on watching back to back to back episodes of Curious George.

I hesitated, knowing I’d be having back surgery and therefore having to delegate yet another chore to another friend or family member.

Initially we were going to wait until I was fully recovered but we both decided he was more than ready and we figured we could swing it at this point in recovery. That, and we couldn’t handle him kicking, pinching, or biting Van one more time.

Willy looked at me from across the table on one of our lunch dates and said, “How do we sign him up?”. I always giggle to myself when he asks me questions as if I’ve been a mother longer than he’s been a father. I looked at him with equal cluelessness and said, “I dunno”.

And so, we made a few phone calls.

The first school we toured was a Montessori. Perhaps it was the fact that we saw the price prior to the tour, but neither of us got the warm fuzzies. We drove away wondering how the majority of people afford to put their kid through pre-school. No, really, how do you all put your kids through pre-school?

In the hopes of finding something more affordable, we stopped at a church and inquired about their program. Before price was even discussed, Willy and I gave one another the secret nod of approval. It all felt very organic.

And, just like that, Hooper started pre-school.

The first day Willy and I dropped him off together. He went straight for the toys without looking back and Willy and I walked to the car giggling over the thought of that day marking the first in what is bound-to-be years of schooling. I picked him up and was given a few handouts with classroom information, a playdough recipe, and a list of some things the teachers needed for the classroom and all the sudden I was the legit parent of a pre-schooler.

Despite a couple days of long faces at the time of drop off, he’s been doing great. I started him three days a week, half-days.

My favorite day yet was the day I dropped him off wearing a beanie with a large pom pom on top and came four hours later to pick him up to find he still had the cap on his, albeit a bit disheveled. The teacher told me he didn’t want anyone to take it off. I giggled to myself all the way to the car as I put my sweaty little ski-cap wearing toddler in the car. Man I love that kid.

When did you start your little one in pre-school? Is pre-school affordable in your area?

Support Local: Sperling Nursery

by Ashley filed under Bits + Pieces, Support Local

We love picking out plants. If you kept track of the plants in our home, you’d probably argue that we like picking them out more than we like keeping them alive; and you’re probably right. We typically opt for the succulents because, well, they’re harder to kill.

Sperling nursery, in Calabasas, is our favorite. They always have a large variety of high quality plants. Their prices are a little steep, but the quality is always great.

And they always have fresh popped popcorn. So, I mean, come on. Hands down, right? Nevermind those grubby little dirty hands I have to share it with…

Margaret Jacobsen

by Ashley filed under Photography

Born: Los Angeles, CA

Wants to go: Iceland

Favorite place: San Francisco, CA

Lives: Portland, OR

Margaret Jacobson | Photographer | Aspiring yogini

I met fellow photographer Marge via instagram back in November and instantly fell in love because of her free and fun-loving spirit. As an added bonus, after a mid-afternoon Belgium waffle and mimosa, she was willing to step in-front of my lens for a little personal project I’m in the midst of shooting.

You can check out some of Margaret’s work by clicking here and follow her on instagram by clicking here. Hey Marge, it was a pleasure.

The Long Way Home

by Ashley filed under The Long Way Home, Travel

Jaipur, India, 2006

The Dali Lama said something to the extent of this: small problems, hardships, or inconveniences should be but mere ripples in the sea, floating just over the surface. If you were to let the small things turn into waves, you’d only be knocked down more often than not. This notion is the key to survival, especially in India. India’s relentless. Just when you think it’s as hot as it could possibly get, it gets hotter. Just when you thought you couldn’t be any dirtier, you get pushed to the side of the road by a rickshaw, or cow, and step into a puddle of water (insert question mark) and look up in frustration just in time for the rickshaw’s exhaust to blow right in your face. The streets alone are relentless. Walking through them requires the same strategy as a video game and produces the same quantity of outcomes. It’s a wonder to me how my toes have escaped being rolled over. They’ve curled themselves under in deep fear of their lives. Horns are honked so often, I’ve come to believe the horn itself must be India’s native musical instrument. The people are also relentless.

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understanding of “no thank you” or the more blunt response of “I don’t like it, I don’t want it” and “please, it’s not expensive, it’s very inexpensive” is suddenly the only english they know. Some will even follow you down the street, dropping the price of the one thing they think you have have glanced at, and the price drops with every step you take until a cow slowly intervenes and passes between you – or it doesn’t – and you have to turn around with attitude and say, “LOOK, I will NEVER come back to India EVER again if you don’t stop following us”. The latter of course being the less desirable of the two.

But it’s all ripples, really. No big waves have dropped on us. The frustrations or inconveniences have only made the colors brighter and the Himalayans bigger and between the two – the good and the bad – there’s no competition, not even a discussion of such nonsense.

And just like that… it’s off to Egypt…

Around the Table

by Ashley filed under Uncategorized

Hooper: gets out of his seat a thousand times, won’t try new things, often prefers to be spoonfed, requires a lot of effort (on our part) to finish a meal.

Van: starts trying to climb into his high chair as soon as he sees food being made, feeds himself, often requires seconds, will try anything, puts food in his mouth by the fistfull.

Sarah: does not require a rag or sponge, thinks the food in her bowl is overrated, loves having babies and toddlers around, hates blueberries.

What’s it like around your table?

Winter in California

by Ashley filed under Bits + Pieces

…Sure looks a lot like Fall… and tastes rather salty.

The Long Way Home

by Ashley filed under The Long Way Home, Travel

Agra, India, 2006

India’s dirty. There’s no two ways about it. The majority of it stems from the fact there’s no irrigation system. Shit flows in the “canals” linking the streets. It rains and the streets flood and people walk right through it and kids play like ti’s the public swimming pool they never had. Secondly, no matter the direction your eyes turn, you’ll inevitably see some Indian man – either standing or squatting – pissing in the street. In Jaipur, we even saw two boys shitting together on the side of the street like it was something they met up for each say, “Same time, same place tomorrow?”, I imagined one saying to the other. And lastly, everyone litters. Hidden treasures lie all over the place – old matchboxes, candy wrappers, corn husks… J keeps referring to it as “art”. I haven’t gon so far just yet, but it’s probably the rancid smell of piss that’s taking away from the museum feel.

But that’s India and certainly not all India has to offer. It’s a country of extremes, really. Polar opposites. I say this because it’s also one of the most, if not THE most colorful countries. India’s also home to one of merely seven world wonders. The Taj speaks for itself. But Agra, home to the Taj is quite it’s polar opposite. Walking down the polluted road that leads to it is like walking through the gates of hell only to end up before the gates of heaven. It’s hot, for starters. Sweat drips off your body and clings to your clothes and then you pass through the entrance and turn a corner and before you lies this “dream of marble” you yourself had only dreamed of during class, flipping through the history book pages in search of that one picture that could hold your attention and conquer the urge to close your eyes. Part of myself had already been there.

India is also part owner of the great Himalayan mountain range. And once again, you have to tolerate hell to appreciate heaven. Take a 25 hour bus ride with no toilet, dirty seats, dusty floors, no air con, busted fans, dirt and bug infested, baby crying, brakes squeaking on a winding road with cows crossing and Pakistani army men lining the street and one may have a portion of the truth I speak of. Be it what it may, but it’s not about how you get there but rather where you arrive at that’s important. The Himalayas stand in the distance and it’s like God dropped a huge backdrop and made your life his movie. I’d do it again, even if I had to ride a bike there.

A Guest Post: To be (a mom) or not to be (a mom)

by Ashley filed under Guest Posts & Interviews, Motherhood, Parenting

This is the first in what will be a few guest posts written by my lovely sister. Hey look, there we are… (I’m on the left)

A while back, I did a guest post, anonymously, for my sister’s blog. You can read it here if you so desire.

The gist was this: I’m afraid to have kids. My fears include:

· What if something is wrong with the kid, physically or mentally?

· What if the world we live in isn’t kid-friendly (think pollution, global warming, wars, financial collapse)?

· What if I’m too selfish and impatient to be a good mother?

· What if my kid is an asshole?

· What if having a child makes my soon-to-be-husband and I forget about each other?

· What if pets are enough?

· What if the thought of helping a kid with homework gives me chills?

· What if I don’t have time to write or read or hike or cook or do all the other things I love?

· What if we struggle financially with a kid?

· What if I go crazy due to sleep deprivation?

· What if there are adventures and travels I still want to have?

All those fears aside, I know there are pros to having kids. Duh. I’ve met my nephews. They’re pretty awesome. I can imagine how amazing it is to create a life with someone I love. I can imagine the fulfillment of that, the love, the lessons. I just don’t think it’s for me.

Before you encourage me to change my mind, rest assured I have thought about this long and hard. I have played Devil’s Advocate with myself. My fiancé and I have discussed this at length. We even went to a preconception counseling appointment (who knew they had such a thing?), just to get some information. The doctor said that I would be considered “high risk” (according to the insurance companies) when I’m 35 (which is now less than a year away). I know that’s just a silly policy, but the words still threaten me—high risk. I am a person who prefers very little risk. As in, no risk.

But even if I was 25, I don’t think I’d want a child. I’ve never wanted to be a mom. I’m an introvert who needs A LOT of alone time. I worry that being a mom wouldn’t allow me that. I’ve struggled with depression in my life. I worry that I’d pass that on to my child, or that my depression would flare up as a parent. I’m a chronic worrier. I worry about that.

The reason my first post was anonymous was because I’m a little embarrassed that I don’t want a kid. Most women want children. Most describe an ache, a craving, for a child. I’ve never had this. Most women either ignore any possible risks, or embrace them because their desire for a child far outweighs any fear. I’ve never had anything close to such a desire. My sister, for one, always wanted kids. When we were little, she toted around baby dolls, “feeding” them from toy plastic bottles. I played with my Barbies. These days, my sister says she feels a little sad for me and all that I’ll miss by being childless. The thing is, though, I’ll never experience having a child myself so I won’t know what I’m missing. I’m happy as I am, and I’ll just go on as that person.

I used to think there was something wrong with me. I’m in a minority, after all. Now, though, I’m proud of myself for realizing my limitations and making a decision for the life I want for myself (and my partner). Plus, like I said, my nephews are awesome. I plan to love them with all my might.

Did any of you share my fears? Did you always know you wanted to be a mom?

Kim Hooper / Copywriter & Novelist / Also, my sister

Bits + Pieces

by Ashley filed under Bits + Pieces

Hoop got a haircut. He needs one every month or so it seems. Our friend Angela always does a great job // Willy convincing Hooper to eat his damn food. It’s still a struggle, at times // An orchid from my Aunt and Uncle that somehow we’ve managed to keep alive // A bruise on Van’s face. It happens // Walks with broom and dust pan in hand. We have clean sidewalks // In and out, in and out, all day long // Van got a haircut. We shave his head because his hair is much thicker // I’m trying to get Van to sit in the big boy chair so I don’t have to worry about lifting him in and out of the high chair. Currently, he squats. Hashtag: it’s a start // Hooper discovered we keep the candy in the bathroom cupboard for when he goes poop // Van playing a game of “mailman” by the front door // A cartoon in the late afternoon // A visit from the in-laws before Christmas. That’s Willy’s dad in the “Kum & Go” shirt. We went to Bob’s Big Boy where the guys tried with all their might to strain their necks and watch the game. Can you tell they’re related? // Raisins are Hooper’s jam // Ever since we got bunk beds, Hooper loves playing in his room // Both boys, not fighting but sitting together watching “What does the fox say?”. They are obsessed. So much so they can sit by one another without killing each other // TV comas happen.

In other news, votes are scheduled to reset over on Top Baby Blogs and – as always – I would love your support. Voting is easy; simply click on the banner below and then click on the owl on the left side of your screen. And, that’s it. It takes two seconds and it means a lot to me. You can vote once daily. Much love.

Carla

by Ashley filed under Photography

A few

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snapshots of my beautiful friend and her beautiful daughter.

Interested in booking a lifestyle session? Email me: ashley {at} thestorkandthebeanstalk {dot} com.

New Years

by Ashley filed under Bits + Pieces, Holiday

Memories have a way of washing over one another like the water washes over the sand; some remain at the surface while overs sink, buried by things heavier than them. As I close out 2013, it’s hard for me to remember how great our life was before October; before my surgery, before I had thirteen levels of my spine fused. I have photos and written tales written by a girl that was much freer than the girl I am today; she wrote funny tales of motherhood, I write about perspective because clinging to a positive one feels like all I can do some days.

I’m nearly three months post-op and it’s bittersweet.

Before my surgery, the three-month-mark was thrown out there as the potential time I could return to work and, thus, the time I presumed my life would be more or less ordinary. There was a time, when I was pregnant, that a confused patient hit me over the head from behind with the phone in the room. I think about that experience, coupled with the fact I’m still physically and restrictively unable to lift my children, and I now know that expecting to return to normalcy at three months was a lofty I’m-gonna-tell-you-what-you-want-to-hear-because-you-need-this-surgery tale from my surgeon.

And so, while I feel better than I have thus far, I feel far from normal. My life is not normal. Some days my every thought is consumed by pain. Other days I feel better and my thoughts are consumed with a fear of overdoing it and returning back to the state of pain I just spent 5 days in bed recovering from.

I don’t have New Year’s resolutions this year. I’m not resolving to do anything, per say. Rather, I want to be happy. If that means nurturing my body more than I’ve needed to in years past, then so be it. If it means a change of perspective because my attitude is down in the gutter, then so be it. If it means keeping a running list of things I want to do with my family but I can’t because of my limitations, then I’ll do that too. I’m resolving to stay hopeful because I know normalcy is just around the corner and I’m using all the fuel left in my tank to get there.

I’ve been listening to music again and it’s been getting into my bloodstream and feeding my soul in a way it used to when I hurt – in other ways – in the past. When I was a nursing student, I had the privilege of caring for a man named Delaney Bramlett; a singer, songwriter, musician, and producer. He died during the same hospital stay and he was magical. Two of my favorites of his are this one and this one. I hope it does for you, what it does for me.

And I hope all of you can stay happy and healthy in the New Year because beyond those two things – I’ve learned – you really don’t need anything else.

Photos taken on New Years Eve, spent on the beach with family. And thank you to all who left us comments wishing us well. I am finally feeling better… just in time to take care of Hooper who couldn’t make it in the door from preschool yesterday without laying down on our walkway and throwing up. Come on 2014, what else ya got?!

The Long Way Home

by Ashley filed under The Long Way Home, Travel

01.06.201401.22.2018

Srinagar, Very Northern India, 2006

We’ve been alone on our houseboat, without the arrival of any other travelers, for some time now. Combined with a shortage of money, we’ve become slaves to boredom’s spells. I feel like a six year old, hiding out in my fort, peeking out my box cut window I draped lace over to see who is entering and if they’re earned their entrance through testimony of the secret password.

What is there to do with boredom? We’ve fished by means of a hanger and earring, to no avail. We’ve played both charades and ring a bangle around a glass. We’ve finished the list of who would you this and what would you that? We’ve spied on our neighbors and have shared long moments of silence always polished off by immense laughter. I’ve watched Janet’s handstands progress and rolled in laughter when she fell. We’ve picked boyfriends from magazine clippings, we’ve walked laps around our common area and we’ve snuck up on each other unexpectedly, we’ve bitch slapped mosquitoes and flies to their graves and followed mice to their corners. We even jimmied wires together to charge my camera battery.

Boredom. It’s almost nauseating how fast paced our American lives are that it can almost make one crazy when there’s nothing to be done. How we’ve longed for it and we long to leave it all baffles me.

Rewind, 2013

by Ashley filed under Bits + Pieces, Holiday

JANUARY

We celebrated 60 years of love and dedication between Willy’s grandparents and started potty training Hoop, who was showing signs of being ready.

FEBRUARY

We dealt with what was in hindsight the worst of the terrible twos (it lasted a few months) and I opened up about how it took me longer to love and bond with Van.

MARCH

We made what we both decided was the best decision in our lives to date and hired house cleaners. They come every other week and it’s the best money spent ever. I also wrote about falling in love with Van.

APRIL

We made trips out to both Arizona and Palm Springs. It was the first, of what became many, trips to Palm Springs this year (most always for Willy’s work). We were happy when we got to tag along.

MAY

Potty training continued, with number two proving to be more difficult that number one. We also taught Hooper what a “ghost turd” is. I wrote about our struggles with Hooper’s eating and brought in an Occupational Therapist to help us. And we stayed at The Roosevelt Hotel during one of Willy’s work functions.

JUNE

Willy and I welcomed our first niece, Zoe. We spent more time in Palm Springs. And I wrote about being wild and free, one of my more meaningful posts – for me – to date.

JULY

The boys pretended that they like each other; it was brief. We celebrated both my birthday and Van’s birthday; it was his first. It was not my first.

AUGUST

Janet was in town and we hung out at the Huntington Library in Pasadena. I stopped breastfeeding and I wrote about the depression that followed. I also wrote about conquering the day and how hard it is – at times – to get two kids out of the house. If I only knew how difficult that would be after having back surgery…

SEPTEMBER

We drove down to visit my sister and her fiance, which also marks the day Hooper became obsessed with cats. He hasn’t stopped meowing or asking to be pet since then. We also met up with Sisilia Piring and her lovely family, marking the beginning of what has proven to be a beautiful friendship. And I finally got around to posting pics from Janet and I’s adventures to the Salton Sea, Salvation Mountain, and Joshua Tree.

OCTOBER

I had my surgery this month and spent two weeks in the hospital. Before hand, we made it to the pumpkin patch, spent time with family at the beach, and took another trip to the desert. I also joined the Childhood Unplugged movement.

NOVEMBER

I posted pics of the boys from Halloween, we celebrated Hooper’s 3rd birthday, and I shared a day in my life series over on Sarah Dyer’s beautiful blog.

DECEMBER

I finally got around to writing about my surgery and my recovery. I also posted pics from Janet’s November visit.

Wishing everyone the best for 2014. Thank you for all your continued support, I’m so grateful for this little space of mine.

Childhood Unplugged

by Ashley filed under Brothers, Childhood Unplugged

The toy store is still safe. And by “safe”, I mean we can take them there without them thinking they can have everything; or anything for that matter (note to self: don’t take Van away from the bikes). We came home empty handed and without any tears (any lingering tears, that is), so I came home and wrote this day down in the books because I’m pretty sure it was the last time we’ll be so lucky.

Please click here to see the submissions of my fellow photographers taking part in the Childhood Unplugged movement. And remember to follow on facebook and instagram (use #childhoodunplugged for a chance to be featured).