A Welcome

Posted on January 20, 2018 by hannahsthirties under lifestyle, photography, Uncategorized, writing

Hi friends, welcome!

Since this is my first post after the site’s name change, I thought I would tell you a touch of who I am.

My name is Hannah Innis, and I’m 30 years old, just shy of 31. I am wife to Ryan – my strong and steady, my big spoon, my life love – and mother to, Samuel – my one and a half year-old, bursting at the seams with energy, big lover of life, all boy – my son.

Photos by Kaleigh Simmons Photography

I am a part-time working, mostly staying at home mom, but when I do partly work, it’s at my beloved fine dining restaurant cozied up in a historic building in downtown Grand Rapids, Michigan. I adore being part of others’ experiences and that’s what people expect when they dine there. Many are celebrating something, and I have found deep joy in making memorable evenings for others. I love food, I love wine, and I love everything that involves time around a table. If I ever leave my job, I’ll leave a piece of me there.

When I tell you about my love for time around the table at my job, it seeps right into my love for time around the table anywhere. Food and wine are a big part of who I am away from the workplace as well. I think the best conversations are spent at a table with good food paired with a good glass of wine. Some of my favorite memories are these moments, these sacred times with people I love with soft music in the background, quiet lights, and usually loud and real talk going on endlessly. Change that table to a paper plate on your lap and a cold sparkling water with lemon on a hot summer day and you have just as much of my attention as a detailed dining production. If you sit me down with good food and good people my soul is overflowing.

I live in a small town, the one I grew up in and said I would never live in again. We moved there four months ago after searching all surrounding areas for 6 months. I’m endlessly grateful to be back, to raise my family in this friendly, small town, on this quiet cul-de-sac, where I grew up.

I am very much a family person. I am my parents’ youngest of five daughters and each of us are married to incredible men, with beautiful babies ranging from growing in the womb to almost 15 years old…fourteen grandbabies to be exact. Ryan, on the other hand, is the oldest to six siblings, with three brothers and two sisters. Throw in my Ryan’s parents, one sister-in-law and their sweet baby boy, just four months younger than our Sam, and you have my family. Big, loud, loving, supporting each other’s dreams, encouraging one another…that is my foundation. I am very much obsessed with these people, every single one of them. Each of their unique personalities and passions, their hurts and joys that make up the stories of who they are…just obsessed with them.

10487308_10152263109576452_7350032133370089053_n

13133190_10206856432393968_3678964629832702125_n

As for the one growing in the womb, that one is mine. We will welcome our second child this summer, expected to arrive sometime around June 20. I’m nestled somewhere in between fearing for my sanity and overwhelmed with excitement. Aside from these emotions, we know we are beyond blessed to be parents and bring this child into our lives.

There’s no telling you about who I am without telling you what I believe, because those go hand in hand, heart in heart. I am in love with Jesus, who saves me daily with grace. Who brought me back to Him time and time again in big and small ways. He is my reason for everything. I have been through the dark and the scary without letting my Savior near me, and it was indeed the hardest years of my life. Never again will I choose to walk through the years of this beautiful, challenging, sin soaked, beloved life without the One who offers me hope in every grief and joy. My biggest prayer is that I may seek Him daily and shine His light with my words and actions. And that He continues to rescue me each time I fail.

Aside from food, family, faith, and friends, my passions rest mostly in the creative. I love to photograph and have been pursuing this as another part time job. I photograph families and kids, and am learning more and more the love of capturing life through a lens.

I also love to write, but have been doing most of it in my head over the past year and half. The pen and paper and the laptop and been sitting patiently on the back burner as I learned to parent and discover what this new life looks like. Writing in my head doesn’t feel as good as the physical exhale that is getting it onto paper or a screen, and so, with great effort, I’m putting my fingers to keys and rediscovering this life long passion of mine.

This is my little space to share stories and experiences that cause me to think, learn, live, parent, and in the meantime, maybe we can connect on some topics. I don’t know, but I need the exhale, and this is my favorite spot for doing so.

My first year of living my thirties has been beautiful and life giving, and entirely different from my twenties. But if you’re interested in that too, keep scrolling. Lots of lessons learned there.

So, this is me. Just a touch of me. I couldn’t give you the rest if I tried, because I’m still learning.

Life is wild, isn’t it? We imagine that some day we will reach a moment where it all clicks, and then instead we realize we are actually re-learning and re-shaping everything we’ve ever known. I’ve come to see that if we aren’t growing, changing, evolving, then we are stagnant. We settle for complacency in what we think is probably the best it’s going to get for us. What if we keep going, even when the change and the questions are scary?

I want to chase after and demolish things that scare me, and then move on to the next one. My twenties were great and all, but so far, I’m absolutely in love with my thirties.

Happy Weekend, sweet friends!

Cheers!

Drunk Tattoos

Posted on November 20, 2015 by hannahsthirties under Uncategorized

I have two tattoos.

One is a celtic knot, which symbolizes the Holy Trinity.

I had thought about this tattoo for years before getting it. I did research of the symbol and daydreamed about where I wanted it on my body. It represented my faith, and I wanted is as a constant reminder.

But seriously, let’s be real. I was 20 years old and could barely afford rent, but could always afford beer and apparently permanent ink. I cussed the entire time.

This tattoo was about as deep as my faith was…barely below the flesh.

Still, I’ve always loved and wanted this tattoo and it truly has been a great reminder of what I believe. I never had a regret.

Then there’s the second one.

I also had a vision for this one, and daydreamed about it, etc. I wanted the phrase ad petendam pluviam, a Latin phrase translated, “to ask for rain.”

I read it in a book that I couldn’t finish because the author didn’t use periods and it drove me absolutely nutty. No periods, just commas. It was like a giant run-on sentence that was totally unnecessary and I never had any idea who was talking, and now there’s a new character and maybe someone’s speaking and there’s a totally new topic, but no one will ever know because there are NEVER ANY PERIODS (OR QUOTATION MARKS)! My sweet readers, I solemnly swear to ALWAYS use periods (and quotation marks).

But anyway, this phrase stood out to me in this period-less book and became my muse for my next tattoo.

This Latin phrase, for me, represented hardships in life that make you stronger. Just as those who originally said this phrase were asking for rain in order to grow a thriving crop, I felt that we should also ask for these painful times since we would in turn grow in our character, and there was a Flood Watch in my life at that time. I wanted to feel stronger and bigger than the struggles I was going through, and I felt like this would be a reminder of that.

So one beautiful morning in the mountains, my good friend asked if I wanted to get brunch. No matter the season, rainy, sunny, or muddy, I freaking LOVE brunch. You can have all the goodies of breakfast without feeling badly or needing an excuse that it’s well passed breakfast time, because it’s brunch!

Brunch also allows you to sleep in. And this girl adores sleeping in. (Ryan said to me yesterday that there are 2 Hannah’s: one before 9:30am and one after…the one before is slightly more difficult.)

We arrived to our favorite spot and indulged, as we usually did, in all our favorites. Starting with coffee and bottomless mimosas. (This restaurant no longer offers the bottomless mimosa deal…and I have a feeling we may have been a reason.)

After brunch, our buzzy brains got the brilliant idea to get tattoos since there was a tattoo shop just across the street. What a perfect time to get my Latin phrase, and I decided I would like it on my wrist.

When we got to the tattoo shop the artist has you fill out and sign a waiver stating that you are not being forced to get this tattoo and that you are not under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Away I signed!

When the tattoo artist asked what I would like I paused and thought.

I couldn’t remember how to spell it.

Thoughts went through my mind:

It’s freaking Latin, no one would know if you get it wrong, just go for it!

You just had 84 mimosas. Don’t get the tattoo right now.

You know how to spell it, remember? It’s ad petandarmquirwod….was there a number in there somewhere?

Get something else, duh!

I responded, “I would like the word ‘grace’ in cursive right here on my wrist. It’s the meaning of my name.”

I had never come up with this backup idea before, but the tattoo artist wrote up a nice swirly little ‘grace’ and away he buzzed with his permanent skin engraver. (Thanks for stepping in here and stopping me, Cole!)

As the mimosas wore off I got more and more aware of what I had done and was furious.

GRACE???

YOU COULDN’T JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU WEREN’T DRINKING??? THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU WANTED YOU FOOLISH MIMOSA CHUGGING, BRUNCH LOVING IDIOT!

What about my reminder to be strong through the struggles in life? To ask for these times so that you can come out a better person?

How stupid, right?

I actually think that God had an angel with me that day, holding the tattoo ink pen.

Looking back, I don’t think I would have been as happy with that Latin phrase. Had I known how long the depression would last and how hard that rain would fall I don’t think I would like a reminder to ask for it. Why would any of us ASK for hardships? What I should have asked for was No rain ever, k thanks.

What I needed more was exactly what I got, grace.

I needed forgiveness from a lot of people, and they gave it gracefully.

I needed healing in myself, to show myself epic grace.

I needed to move on from a dark time and I didn’t need to depend on how strong I was, but I needed to depend on the grace of God that is bigger and stronger than we can ever imagine.

That’s my reminder when I look at this drunken tattoo.

That a girl was lost and scared and was brought out – still imperfect, still damp, but WHOLE – through grace.

I hope it never fades, and I’m confident it won’t. (His grace, that is.)

Keep swimming, loves

Cheers!

Learning

Posted on September 22, 2015 by hannahsthirties under photography, travel, writing

We are already creeping into crisp air and early sunsets. It’s hard to believe that summer 2015 is coming to a close.

It was a summer of learning, for me.

After spending May with lots of work and only passing each other in the mornings and late evenings, Ryan and I decided we needed to make a decision. We were newly married for only three months, and we knew we couldn’t spend another month the way we spent May. So I did something that I haven’t done in years. I took a step back at work and spent the summer working two, sometimes three shifts a week.

I was terrified. I have spent most of my adult life working five to six nights a week at busy restaurants. Allowing myself time off seemed a bit negligent, but I knew that taking this step was imperative to my marriage and to my own mental sanity.

It ended up being the best summer. Ryan and I were able to take trips, go camping, spend time with each other and our families, and I remembered that mornings and evenings still exist…and they are glorious.

I was able to take a trip out west with my friend Betsy to photograph a gorgeous mountain wedding. Returning to the place I once lived healed deep parts of my soul that I didn’t recognize to still be broken (that’s an entirely new blog in itself). It was quick and busy and a twelve hour day of photographing with one of my best friends made me feel alive and fresh and challenged.

oh and hey, we met Willie Robertson. We spotted him at the Cowboy Bar in Jackson, Wyoming. To my father’s dismay, I introduced myself in a whisper saying, “Hi, I know you don’t want people to bug you, but, my dad LOVES you…”

checking out the wedding site. Tetons in the background.

On a beautiful hike with beautiful people

The wedding day just after the ceremony. Hi mountains!

This summer Ryan and I were able to GO ON DATES. We are generally frugal people….

Let me re-phrase: Ryan is so great at being fiscally conscious, while I try determinedly to spend our money on important things like food and wine and dates and home decor. He has been an enormous blessing in the money world by reminding me of what’s important and necessary. Thank the Good Lord that he agrees an occasional splurge on date night is necessary.

I mean, just so.freaking.adorable.

If you are not familiar with Michigan, I’ll let you know that there are lakes EVERYWHERE, and we are blessed to be able to spend time on this particular lake often in the summer. Boat rides and these people happened, often.

I was able to go with Ryan up north to Traverse City, MI for a business trip, where we rented a cottage on Old Mission Peninsula, ate fabulous food all weekend, and even got to visit our cousin, Jamie, who works for the local news station.

We ended this great weekend with a perfect night camping.

Our last trip of the summer was to North Carolina for a wedding with a quick stop in Washington D.C. on the way to visit with some dear friends.

Aside from the travel, we were able to spend time with each other and with friends, have dinner on our deck, go golfing (oh we golfed; we golfed endlessly.) It was an incredible summer.

But I also learned.

I learned that I don’t need to work my life away to feel accomplished or justified. And although I do love what I do, it doesn’t define the person I am or the life I want to live. My priorities are far beyond what I do to earn money.

I also learned that I have passions to re-ignite. I say RE-ignite because they were coals that were cooling from neglect, and this summer I was reminded that doing the things you love will feed your soul. For me these include photography, my writing, and travel. I always keep a notebook and pen on me, but have rarely taken them out these past few months. I was once going to school for photography and was crazy in love with capturing these still moments representing so much more than that one second in time. I adore exploring and finding what makes places special. Somewhere along the way I forgot I had a camera…and a notebook…and a pen…and a passion.

We constantly look for those things that make us feel fulfilled, and sharing stories and lessons and moments is one of those things for me. It’s putting a pen to paper and scribbling, and spending time with people who want me to help share their story. It’s discovering a new place and sharing what I love about it with others.

But it’s also time that I spend learning from someone else’s craft. It’s reading and learning from other writers, shooting with photographers whose work far surpasses my own, and it’s GETTING OUT and going places.

This summer, I’ve learned ENORMOUSLY that I never want to stop learning.

To you and to me, may we always be pushing to be a better version of ourselves than the day before,

Cheers!

Hi, you shouldn’t be a Professor

Posted on May 21, 2014 by hannahsthirties under Uncategorized

It’s been nearly a month since I finished my first full year back at school, and I’m still irked to the core about one of my professors. Part of me wants to forget about him and move on, and the other wants to write incessant letters and e-mails to the Dean of Students until he is released from his duties as Professor.

This class was an intro class for document design and was based heavily (and I mean every single thing we did) on Adobe InDesign. If you don’t know anything or much about this program, it would likely be similar to sitting in a space ship and trying to figure out how to fly it. Or reading Harry Potter in Italian. It’s complicated and complex for beginners. I would say it’s about twice as complicated and complex for Writing Majors who have NO interest or minute understanding of computers or technology. Ahem, 98% of my class.

There were a few Advertising and PR kids who were already well versed with this program, and they quickly adopted the status of teachers pet. Then there were the rest of us who simply tried to keep our grades above failing.

His version of “teaching” us this program was to give us YouTube videos to watch. I basically stared cross-eyed at the screen for each of those videos and when the time came to apply it to our projects, they didn’t match up.

Ah, the projects. Yes, three projects, all jam packed into the last few weeks of the semester, and these were the only grades that mattered. So if you had no idea what you’re doing with the first project, or if he didn’t think your design was good enough – TOO BAD. His feedback was anything but helpful and when one student asked for further advice he would say things like, “Maybe you should review the assignment sheet.” She e-mailed our class in desperation for advice, clearly, she had read the assignment sheets over and over. Don’t even bother asking questions in class, because that response will be defensive and mocking, making you feel like an idiot for even asking.

I’m livid because I see what I pay him per class, and any lack of success should reflect poorly on him as well. I passed the class, but I feel like I could have learned far more had he known how to teach the subject matter. The problem is that it’s not his first job. Teaching college students is extra cash for him, and it’s clear we are not his priority. I know my other classmates were frustrated as well (or those of us who had no prior training with InDesign). We all felt loss and timid to ask questions.

I don’t like seeing our careless professors get away with it. College is insanely expensive, but how are we supposed to reach graduation if we don’t have professors who want to see us succeed? That’s fine for them to expect a lot from us, that I understand, but if they can’t back it up with being able to explain and teach without simply sending us to YouTube, I’m over you, and I’ll take that couple grand back also.

Any of you college kids feel my pain?

Angry about this, but secretly super happy with life,

Cheers!

Hannah's Thirties

Tag Archives: learning

A Welcome

Drunk Tattoos

Learning

Hi, you shouldn’t be a Professor