100 Days of Summer | madison photographer

We endured that brutal winter, and I promised myself I would celebrate each glorious day of summer if it ever arrived!

I recently heard someone frame their kids’ years in summers….as in I have 8 more summers left with Jack before he leaves for college. Only eight more?  That feels like an impossibly small number.  They all do–even just fifteen for Ben.  Out of a lifetime of summers, these are the ones we’ll be together.  Let’s get to it.

Part I | Please see Part II Here

Day 1

The day we went to the Brat Fest.  We spread our favorite quilt out on the downy grass, bathed in the high-noon sun, and you ate two hot dogs in a row.  And then an ear of roasted corn. You saw Bucky in the distance and waved, but you were sad to not be able to give him a high-five.  Next time, Buddy. xo

Day 2

The day we went to Papa’s Farm for planting.  I used the Lensbaby lens–super fun, but I need more practice!

 

Day 3

The day we saw cows lying the field, swatting themselves with their tails.  I got out of the car, approached the fence, and every single one came to greet me.  xo

Day 4

I planted this miniature crab apple tree right outside my kitchen window six years ago just for this brief 10-day view.  Ben & I took a stack of Beatrix Potter books out the yard and aligned our outer space quilt under the tree.  We read The Tale of Two Bad Mice and The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck while the blue sky and bright light and white petals enveloped us. xo

Day 5

The day you had ketchup for dinner. I made sausage and peppers and sweet potato hash, and you only repeatedly dragged your finger through the ketchup.  You were happy. And really, you had 2 huge glasses of kale, spinach, apple, pear, and lemon earlier in the day. Bottoms up, kiddo! xo

Day 6

The day you leaned on the screen door, getting as close to the outside as you could at bedtime.  You have a gulp of water in your mouth, and you like to talk with your hands. Your freckles are starting to show a bit more already! xo

Day 7

It’s 8:24pm.  It’s 24 minutes past your bedtime, but we looked at your rock collection together and talked about summer friends for an extra bit tonight.  I grabbed your school clothes for tomorrow, turned around, and saw your bare feet hanging off in bedtime procrastination and the light still hitting them.  xo

Day 8

This is the day your brother got an ice cream sundae after his class play, but it wasn’t safe your severe allergy to have one too. You continued to play and hang out until the whistle blew, going strong and happy.  Then we came home & you chose a lemon popsicle treat and we sat on the front stairs watching a teenaged skateboarder zip up and down our street.  xo

Day 9

A Diamond Day. A Diamond Day is when the sun, sky, and wind conditions align and the lake shows off her glistening diamonds.  We went to three soccer games in five hours, and afterward, you two ran down to the pier to dip your toes in the water.  I can still hear how happy you both were. xo

Day 10

The day we had dark-as-night thunderstorms and then brilliant, clean light and blue skies.  Our neighbors have nine wild columbine plants in their yard. The sun was shining and a new round of rain beginning all at once. xo

Day 11

Last night’s wicked rainstorm created a backyard mud pit beyond compare.  While I know there is no way you could have merely looked at it, my kinesthetic child, I have an inkling your older brother was the mastermind behind graffiti art.

Day 12

Screens in are in, popsicles and short sleeves out.   You told me, “I feel like I would be a good subject for you today.” You crack me up, and I’m so grateful for any opportunity to capture you. xo

Day 13

Sweet little Batman.  You were so excited to blaze out the door when you heard your dad coming home from work.  You flew down the steps, raced with intent to him.  Everyone who was outside on porches cheered on Batman and you took your job so seriously.  It was hard when everyone needed to go inside and get dinner started.  You lost your job to the save the day when your adoring fans needed to light the grill.  Just know you saved me, Batman. xo

Day 14

Charlie went out with Dad for fun school night field trip. We walked to the lake and watched the log rollers and the people catching bass.  Ben wanted to stand on this steep rock, but he couldn’t do it by himself.  Jack graciously stepped in.Day 15

You wanted to get dressed for school all by yourself.  I love that your underwear is on backwards and you’re stuck inside your shirt–but in all this littleness that you here, I can see how long and lean and big you’re becoming.  Once affectionately known as our Tank, you’ve now lost your toddler tummy and you’re growing like weeds on fertilizer.  xo

Day 16

The morning I went to Lake Geneva with my best friend for an absolutely delectable brunch.  This was the overflow, waiting room.  We sat on stools and drank coffee and started, yet never completed four topics before our name was called. I now regret not taking more pictures, yet I was wholly present with her and shooting wasn’t on our agenda.  xo
Day 17

The evening we took our sugary, drippy watermelon on the front steps.  We layered ourselves on the stairs and talked about soccer and the approaching summer.  xo

Day 18

You’ve been playing this mock soccer game in our postage stamp of a backyard all spring.  Your lanky limbs are becoming so strong and sinewy, and yet I still see my baby in you.  Sometimes I see the identical expressions you had as a baby and toddler, and sometimes I see a sliver of a man you’ll become. But mostly I see you today. I see your soft curls and your straight edges.  I see your general seriousness and beginnings of preteen sullenness give way to a hearty belly laugh.  And it brings me an indescribable joy! xo

Day 19

Today is the prep. Lemon Blueberry Scones for Ben’s preschool teachers. We bought, washed, sorted, and dried the blueberries. It’s a ritual I’ve done every school year for seven years. There is something lovely and therapeutic about ending the year on such a sweet note.  xo
Day 20

Today was the last day of preschool. We went to the school picnic and you were nothing short of ecstatic about seeing all your favorite friends in one place outside your classroom.  You played on the merry-go-round and the swings and the slide and hill and the dinosaur and all of it once more.  You were so happy!  You checked in on me a couple times, but mostly you  joyfully played with your friends on a gorgeous June evening. We have both come so far.  You’ll graduate to a new big-boy classroom next year, and after a challenging two years, I am filled with confidence you’ll be just fine. Thank you, Rae and Lydia, preschool teacher extraordinares. xo

Day 21

Today was the last day of first and fourth grade.  We went to our park for a picnic with a big group of friends, and so many others had the same idea.  The boys found themselves in a pickup football game.  They played for hours, ran and tumbled liked puppies, and then fell into a happy sleep at home.  xo

Day 22

Today was the first full day of kid summer. We rode bikes to the small city forest.  You all three hauled rocks and logs and created new forest structures. We hiked and talked, and I let you and your older brother explore on your own as long as we were in earshot.  I found you on this fallen, weathered tree, examining it with all your attention.
Day 23

Today my beautiful goddaughter completed her very first dance recital, and I was overjoyed to attend!  The getting ready capture is significant. The stage performance capture is paramount.  No question.  But when you were given your completion T-shirt and your mama put it on you, the whole family surrounded you with such happiness.  It’s not more important than other two documentary pieces, but I am wholly drawn to the circle of love at the end. xo

Day 24

It’s the top of the ninth.  The home team is winning & just needs one out to win the game.  The visiting team has a player on second and third and the batter hits a double. Uh-oh.

Day 25

You look at your rock collection almost every day. We have many books on gemstones and rocks and minerals.  You collect them everywhere we go and know exactly where each came from. You even asked Santa for “200 crystals” in December. You brought out your box to share with the boys.  You wanted to talk about quartzes and colors and textures. xo

Day 26

“I will do it by myself” is your recent anthem.  You insist on brushing your own teeth, putting on your own clothes and shoes, making your own snack.  Today you must wear a long-sleeved Scooby-Do pajama top because it just got too small for your brother.  You’ve waited all winter for you to wear it and it doesn’t matter that it’s 82 degrees outside.  xo

Day 27

Every now and then you still want your sippy cup.  I’m not sure if it’s partly because you’re hanging on to being little or because it’s just easier (no need to be ever-so-careful).  After 10 years of occupying cupboard space, I’m eager to make way for all big boy cups. Yet. You’re not ready.  So, I’ll wait so you can bring your milk into the garden after the rain. xo

Day 28

I know it’s silly, but I’m so grateful that you and your little brother actually enjoy tennis.  You’re not very interested in swimming or photography, which is one million percent fine, but I’m extraordinarily excited that you pack your racket every day in case we might get to play tennis. xo

Day 29

Your big brothers have finally become morning sleepers. After years of waking up before 7am, this has become the Summer of Sleep.  Their feet hit the floor closer to 8:30am these days, but you’re still up two hours earlier, ready to talk and play.  What used to be a breakfast table for three on school days has been replaced with just one.  You’re hungry. You don’t want to wait, but you also don’t want to eat without them.  It’s hard being the little brother. xo

Day 30

Lake Camp is coming. xo

Day 31

The hide-a-bed is out, the puzzle boxes are strewn, all three of you are layered throughout the room engaged with your grandparents. xo

Day 32

Your big brother started lake camp today.  You were so sad that you just aren’t big enough yet. Those awesome counselors set up a bubble machine to greet the new crew, and you danced and sang and jumped in the bubbles until you forgot you were sad. xo

Day 34

We got to share super fantastic family news with friends today: Dad got a new position at work that keeps us in Madison for the foreseeable future!  We impromptuly ran out the door to celebrate at Pizza Brutta, and then found ourselves at Vilas Beach on a downright gorgeous night.  No suit, no toys, no towels. Pure joy.  I think spontaniety is growing on me.  xo

Day 34

This is our beautifully ordinary evening.  The summer light; the shoeless, darting children; the soft, emerald lawn. There are neighborhood pups signing in backyards, kids calling out to each other over fences, phones ringing through screen doors.  Looking at this again, I hear this evening more than I see it.  xo

Day 35

We have a picnic party to go to and you want to button your own shirt.  You worked deftly for several minutes before becoming understandably frustrated.  I so love that you want to try. xo

Day 36

You say you’d rather have the light in the house than the heat of the day.  I completely agree. xo

Day 37

We blow bedtime again to catch fireflies. Between the lower summer temps and extra rain, there is a healthy population out there, which makes capturing them all super fun.  Your squeals penetrate the blue hour light, and you all work together to put them in a recycled bottle.  We read they thrive on nectar and you squeezed peach juice into the bottle, hung it above your bed like a camping lantern.  You watched them blink until your eyes were heavy and released them in the morning. xo

Day 38

Dinner.

Day 39

Our dear friends picked us up in a borrowed canary yellow hippie van (more to come!) and took us to a strawberry patch.

Day 40

It is just the very beginning of corn season.  It will be better in a couple weeks and the best in August, but we’re impatient.  You were so diligent in learning how to prep it for dinner.  I bet you spent a half-hour in our sun soaked front stoop just pealing away the strings. xo
Day 41

Today we went to the E.R.  It wasn’t even for anything spectacular. You were sitting on the lip of the train table, reached for a toy, and lost your balance.   Unfortunately, the corner of a bookshelf got in your way.  You were so brave.  Popsicles always help.  xo

Day 42

We found a new forest to explore. A forest where ALL the mosquitos in Madison live.  We’ll have to go back….with long pants and DEET.

Day 43

It’s the Fourth of July!  We played all day: parade, games, soccer, block party, more soccer, and ended with fireworks a block away.

Day 44

Gram brought us several bags of dark, sweet cherries. You guys pitted them on a rainy day last week, and I made candied cherries on the stove while the rain blew in through the window.  A couple days later I folded them into homemade vanilla ice cream and added a dark chocolate swirl.  xo

Day 45

Day 2 of Chocolate Cherry Ice Cream.  My guess is that if you’re licking it off your shirt, you’re a fan.

Day 46

Still in time out. Technically.

Day 47

Here we are, midsummer, and thoroughly in the groove of daily life.  We wake later than usual, bed-headed, bleary-eyed and stretchy, and make our way to the kitchen for steamy coffee and cold juice.  Pajama-clad, you three devour a bag of toasted bagels and plums that taste like July, and then tumble into the sun soaked yard.   The day takes on a more programmed life shortly thereafter, and we leave the laziness of summer for tomorrow.  xo

Day 48

You tried on this costume, stood in the light, flexed, and made tough faces.  xo

Day 49

We’re prepping to have friends over for dinner, and while it’s always a little hectic, I pause to see the lemon in the light, surrounded by chaos.

Day 50

Friends. Outside. Root Beer Floats with Milkshake Straws.

Days 51-100 can be found in Part II