Yard Work And The Hazards Of Being "Industrious"

Dave and I started another project. We haven't even finished our last project. The moulding for the chair rail hasn't been put up. But the playroom is mostly done and I think we were both bored with it. So onto something new! When we moved into the house I can still remember Dave saying it was unamerican to not have a lawn. Crazy huh, we moved onto 8/10ths of an acre and we don't have grass. I think we both thought putting grass in would be the easiest and least costly of the long list of things we want to do around the house. So A delivery of 7 tons of huge rocks and the rental of one tractor backhoe thingy and we were off to modify the yard.

Moving 7 tons of massive rocks up our crazy steep driveway was...well...crazy. That poor tractor. If it had feelings it would be crying. Once we got the rocks up into the yard we began a rock wall. Everything always looks easier then it is. It took us almost all day with both of us working until our arms couldn't lift their own weight to finish it. Even though we were both being super cautious both of us smashed our fingers. I think I screamed bloody murder for 30 minutes (at least). Why does finger trauma hurt so bad! Here it is. My horribly ugly squished and abused finger. It still hurts and it has been a whole week. I have learned to do everything without the use of my pore pointer finger. Typing was challenging at first, but I have gotten the hang of it. The thing I dreaded most was washing my hair. I almost went into Great Clips or someplace similar just have pay someone to wash my hair. Just yesterday I got brave enough to try it myself. I came to the conclusion that I have too much hair. And that water torture is a real viable form of inflicting pain. I grimaced with every drop of water that hit my finger. Not cool.

After we got the rock wall finished we had to come up with enough dirt to fill in the future yard. Perfect - I've been wanting to recess the trampoline. So up the hill we headed with the tractor and the riding mower to start hauling dirt. Another whole day later - digging and hauling in the rain and we almost have a hole deep enough for the trampoline but we are no where close to filling in the yard with enough dirt. So our "simple" project turned into a big one. It seems that is almost always the case. What we thought we could do over a weekend will probably take four. And I have a mutilated finger, loads of muddy laundry and a very dirty "tracked in" house to show for it.

I Love To See The Temple

My friend Judy at the Gila Valley Temple open house

On Saturday I got a call from my girlfriend Judy, she asked if I wanted to go to the Temple open house in Arizona. First, I didn't even know there was a Temple open house in Arizona. I swear Judy will be a better "Mormon" than me someday. Second, this very practical friend of mine was proposing we do something so ridiculously crazy that only a college student would attempt it, or maybe a band groupie. Neither of which fit our current places in life. She wanted to fly down Tuesday morning and come back home the next day. It would be a whirlwind adventure in search of spiritual confirmation, and epic adventure of self discovery and for me a one night bonus to see my family.

Judy has been investigating the church for a year and 1/2. At first I worried about outing her on this blog post, but then I figure Judy that none of your friends check my blog and all of my friends know you are still "looking into" it. So you are no longer a closet investigator :-) I have had the privilege to sit through missionary discussions, have her company at church and laugh together with our two families at a few church activities. Her daughter Kaitlyn is Emily's best friend. Long ago I knew I wanted to share the gospel with her, but there was always that fear of putting distance between a growing friendship. It wasn't until a year and 1/2 ago when Judy was pining away on her bed during a long recovery from surgery that brought her to a place of curiosity. After some reading and several hours of BYU TV I got a call from her one day saying, "when are you going to tell me about your church?" I was over there that evening.

Now here we are headed down to see the Temple. Without a passport to go to the Vancouver Temple which was only a few hours away the only other option that was available and would be available until 2012 was the Arizona Temple.

It felt good to do something spontaneous with a girl friend. And it felt great to be with her in the Temple. There was some discussion about the Temple in my ward's Relief Society a while back. A young mom shared her frustration with not feeling what she expected and wanted to feel during her trips to the Temple. I thought for a while and realized I had similar feelings. It wasn't until this last trip and the pondering about it afterwards that I came to an important realization. I wanted my Temple visits to be grand. I wanted to hear the Voice of the Lord. I wanted my experiences to be awe inducing. But instead, like my visit to the open house, my visits are usually quiet, uneventful and just simply peaceful. I am thinking about that as I write this blog post and I have had a cathartic moment. My expectations are like the Jews from long ago. They expect the coming of the Messiah. They knew the importance of his coming and the role he would play. Just like I have grown up with some knowledge about the Temple and it's place and significance in my religious worship. But the Jews expect Christ to come in grandeur. They were waiting for shock and awe, so that none could doubt. They wanted something that the Lord was not. He came quietly as a baby born in a stable. He was a Carpenters' son. He taught peacefully through stories and analogies. Nothing about Christ was GRAND. He was the Son of God and yet the Jews overlooked him in search for someone bigger and better and larger than life. That is exactly what I have done with the Temple all these years. I expected something grandiose, and I was so caught up looking for it that I haven't ever really felt what the Temple is all about. I was always looking for a huge sign and ignoring the quiet assurance.

It wasn't until I was walking with Judy through the halls of this new Temple that I allowed myself to feel and understand what the Temple was and the way it made me feel. It was home. A safe place were I felt like "Somebody", a daughter of a king. I have a Savior who waits patiently for me to grow up and overcome. And that peace that I feel in the walls of their house...I don't feel ANYWHERE else.

So Judy, thank you! Thank you for taking me on a journey. Thank you for helping me to find myself again. Thank you for being a great friend and example. Thank you for a whirlwind, spontaneous and totally fun trip of discovery.

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I Still Don't Have A Clue

I have been married for almost 14 years now. That is a long time to be keeping house. You would think by now I would be a housewife extraordinaire! But life keeps teaching me lessons. There is NO way my ego will become over inflated after this latest discovery; which in case you aren't following my stream of consciousness writing here...means I did something really stupid and it sent a super clear signal that I stink at my chosen profession.

For the last couple of week we have been trying to solve a mystery in our house. Why do our dishes have a funny odor and slightly perfumed taste to them coming out of the dishwasher? Let me tell you, it can totally ruin your eating experience when you plate smells funny. Even though the smell was a pleasant smell it was just SO wrong on our dinner ware.

I solved the mystery yesterday. We have always used cascade in our dish washer. But in my efforts to cut down the grocery budget to a bare minimum (so I can have more spending money...is it shameful to starve your children so you can buy a shirt form Anthropologie?) I have been buying things on sale instead of keeping to my usual "brand loyalist" shopping methods.

So one fine day of shopping at Walmart (I really miss you Safeway) I noticed that Tide detergent was on sale. So instead of Cascade I put the new and significantly cheaper detergent in my cart.

In retrospect I think, how could I have made such a bonehead mistake. While there is no excuse for plain insanity, the packaging is very similar (false advertising!) and the tide pouches were on the shelf right next to the Cascade pouches. So I assumed they were the same type of product. It is always someone else's fault (a valuable lesson I learned in Kindergarten).

Eventually we concluded that it was the new Tide packets that were making our dishes smell so funny. So yesterday when I went back to the store...dish detergent had finally been all used up (wouldn't want to waste and throw it away - even though we hate it - this is the new cheap me) and had made it back on my grocery list, I made an oath that no mater how much more expensive Cascade was I was running back to it with open arms and teary eyes.

I rounded the corner of the aisle, thoughts of happier dish days in my head, and I had an epiphany. It wasn't Tide's fault we had been eating off of smelly dishes - it was mine. There in front of me were the same Tide packets I had bought a month before. This time however I read the fine print.

STAIN RELEASE

IN-WASH BOOSTER

Does that mean...LAUNDRY kind of wash????!!!!! I was pretty much horrified to realize we had been washing our dishes in LAUNDRY detergent. I still hold to this one small scrap of justification - it is not very clear that it is laundry detergent instead of dish detergent. Who knows? Maybe Tide doesn't even make dish detergent and all you super Moms out there would have known that.

But as for me and my house we live on the precarious line of thinking we know what we're doing and messing up all the time.

In order to avoid all future mistakes at least in this department:

I WILL ALWAYS BUY CASCADE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!!!!!

---Watch Cascade start marketing laundry detergent and silly ol' me start washing clothes in laundry soap!

Sisters

Sometimes sisters are super sweet...

Why is Motherhood So Glorified?

My friend Rebecca just emailed me a link to this most hilarious blog. It was sooooo my life. I laughed so hard. I must admit it is nice to feel like others share in my misery. I know it is totaly awful to hope that others are as miserable as you are. But when it all comes down to "real life" it is totally comforting to know you aren't the one with rottenest kids.

I look at some Mom's and families I admire and wonder why I can't achieve the blissful happiness they have in my home. Then I try to get their perfect little children to rat them out. No seriously I asked one of our favorite DuPont babysitters once if she and her sisters ever fought. I had an insane need at that moment to know that her family wasn't perfect. Is it so horrible to hope that other peoples kids are total hellions too?

As I was reading this truly clever woman's blog and thinking to myself that I totally could have it worse...I could have her kids...Emily starts screaming outside. I go to preform the obligatory investigation. Chase and Kate are throwing Sara's poopy diapers off the balcony at her as she is trying to take out the trash. In an instant all hopes that my children were not the worst behaved hellions on earth went out the window.

So as your life happens to you...and you entertain the thought that your own kids must be the worst hooligans around you know that there is me with my out-of-control brood and this poor lady.

Enjoy her blog - it is sooooo worth the time you will invest!

Still Need A Name

OK everyone...

Let's have a poll...

What do you prefer for a name for my new photography studio?

Babies Don't Keep - Maternity and Newborn Photography

Fresh In The Nest - Maternity and Newborn Photography

Any better ideas????

I like them both. Babies don't keep is unique, there isn't anyone else out there with a similar name. But Fresh in the nest is really descriptive and as far as decorating, packaging and just plain who I am it is a better match. Both have good logo potential I think.

So??????

Special Bedtime Friends

Believe it or not, this is me as a baby. Don't you love those 70's colors! I am just turning one. My very first birthday. And my Grandma gave me a present that stayed with me until I got married. That furry pink monstrosity is Bow Wow. He was my Velveteen rabbit. He now sleeps in a box up in my Mom's attic, but he used to sleep with me every single night in my bed. He warded off nightmares (or at least put up a valiant effort). He made me feel loved, even through those tough teenage years where all the world forgets to love you. He is the only thing I know of that survived all my growing up - my only "baby" artifact. He is special. Girls love there "special" things. And so do my girls!

We emptied out Sara's crib for this little exercise. Let me remind you, she doesn't sleep in a normal spacey crib. We have her in a port-a-crib. So the space is limited and she takes most of it up herself. But she finds enough room somehow for all of the rest of this stuff. She usually has even more books in there. How can she sleep. Many of these things have to be in her crib. As we carry her to bed she will point to this or that toy or treasure that absolutely must spend the night with her. All four blankets must be ceremoniously draped over her at bedtime. Blue, the baby she is holding, is a MUST. And Sophie, the oldest of her babies who never seems to have clothes on - this picture is no exception, is almost always there too. These are Sara's special things. She is too little to have refined them down to her very favorites. For now she has to have it all and somehow gets a good night's sleep.

Katie has a few go-to cats. Meow, the black and white cat, was the first. She got it for her 2nd Christmas from her Aunt Meghan. She loved him immediately. I am still surprised his tail is still attached and he hasn't needed any TLC. Brownish, Meow's brother with the stripes, came a few years ago. She was so excited to see him in the store because he, "WAS MEOW'S BROTHER!" And that was a big deal. This year for Christmas she got baby Brownish in her stocking. Santa is so clever! Sugar is the grey cat on her lap. She is the most important. The vital friend in the bedtime routine. Kate absolutely can not go to sleep without her. She too was a Christmas present from Santa. Teresa is a doll I made for her last year. It has made me so happy that Kate loves her so much. Usually all of these treasured toys are in her bed at all times. Poor thing swears that she will have nightmares without Sugar!

Emily has never been one to sleep with a bunch of comfort friends. It has always just been Coco, her beloved brown bunny that is definitely worse for wear. She got him from her Grandma DeWitt for her very first Easter. Coco has been through a few restorative surgeries. And no amount of washing can make him look any snappier. He is permanently nappy. Coco still travels with her. She write stories about him too. She has adopted the two dolls this last year. Lisa, the one with blond hair is the doll I made for her. She made the other doll, Mary with her achievement day class through the church. Many years ago Emily was jealous of Chase's baby blanket which a friend of Grandma Wilcox had made for him. She wanted her own "special" blanket. So I made her one. Actually three special people were involved. I put together the blanket. Then it was mailed to her best friend Eliza's mom who embroidered her name on it. Then it was mailed off to Grandma DeWitt who sewed on the binding. I thinks it makes it extra special since so many loving hands were part of its creation. Now a days in addition to Coco and the blanket which are still in bed with her, there is always a book. She wanted to have me photograph the Peter and the Starcatchers series because it is her favorite. When I go up to tuck her in one last time before going to bed myself she frequently has a book over her face. She fell asleep reading and there it stayed (so uncomfortable).

These are my girls treasures. I can't wait to watch them grow older and see which treasured friends continue to be a part of their lives. Will Blue, Sugar and Coco stand the test of time. Will they finally be packed away when they head off to college? Will they make it all the way until marriage when my sweet girls find someone better to comfort them at night? Will they remember them fondly when they are 33?

Bahamas...Oh Bahamas, We Will Never Forget You

We will never forget you that's for sure. There's no denying we loved your simplicity and laid back nature. Your beaches were lovely and the weather was warmer...BUT we would have really liked to avoid:

-Having our wallet stolen and losing our travel cash
-Having only one, single, solitary sunny day
-Getting super sea sick
-Issues with Scuba companies
-Snorkeling all over the place looking for signs of life
-Way too much time at the airport

And last but not least oh dear Bahamas...we really could have done better without...(you must read further - AHHH HAAA HAAAA - that's my evil nature, I'm going to make you endure the suspense laugh)

First of all, why do people take vacations. Sometimes they seem like so much more work and stress than just staying at home and experiencing day to day life. I might expect to be stressed if I traveled like some people (I'm calling you out Mom ;-). Always something to do, some place to see. I swear my parents had our family vacations planned down to the minute with the exception of two vacations. Thank goodness for Yosemite and the Italian Alps. But Dave and I are pretty easy going. We rarely schedule anything. We go with a place to stay a list of things we could do and then we go from there. Just a nice spontaneous, relaxing vacation. But I got home from this vacation feeling like I needed a vacation from my vacation!

In spite of our plans to make this short little get away a breath of fresh warm air, we had a rough time. Who wants to come home from vacation and say they endured to the end and tried to find some good in it all?

Trouble started the minute (almost) that Dave's sister Sallie dropped us off at the airport. We were standing there trying to scan our boarding bar code looking like total dummies. First we tried the print out with the little bar code in it. Then we tried the confirmation number, next the passports then the credit cards...you catch the drift. TROUBLE. Finally Dave realized that we were trying to check in at the Delta kiosk instead of Jet Blue. After all that aggravation we weren't thinking all that clearly and didn't notice Dave's wallet sitting right there on the stand. (unfortunately we were oh-so-cool and used our passports for all the security checks and what not) It wasn't until we were boarding the plane and I asked Dave for two bucks to buy headsets that we noticed the wallet was missing. When I think about what might have been:

Us stuck in the Bahamas with no cash, credit cards, debit cards, bank....

Well we got the wallet back. Some wonderful good Samaritan had returned it. After he kindly removed all of our travel money! We didn't really need it, for sure it wouldn't be missed (sarcasm). What is that? A half way honest person. An, "I'm going to do half a good deed" kind of guy? So we got back the plastic but no cash! Then I endured a grumpy Dave on the long flight to better days.

We got to the Bahamas and a 30 minute taxi ride later we are at the Scuba shop signing in for Dave's dive. No way I'm swimming with sharks. Thank goodness I'm not certified. Dave really likes to experience cool things WITH people. You know, so you can reminisce together. Unfortunately for me he really wanted to experience this not-so-cool but super terrifying event in his life with someone too. Thank you rules and regulations. (I am having so much fun being sarcastic that the crazy trip seems more worth it now) So our rotten luck continued. Even though I have our confirmation print out in my hand, saying he is registered and payed to go. The good people there have no records showing Dave even exists. For who knows what reason they argue about this for several minutes (probably because they don't think they've been paid - we ended up paying again and will wait to see what the credit card statement shows) After they finally agree to write Dave in - how hard was that? They start to take issue with the fact that Dave hasn't been on a recent dive. Well -- I didn't have anymore patience. I know I am never great at these customer service head to heads. Even though I have a serious mean streak I am incapable of using it even in its smallest, "I'm just really going to get my way", form. So I point out to them that not only is this requirement to have a recent dive nowhere on their page's long list of rules when booking your dive that you must read and acknowledge, but that we called twice to make sure everything was good and ready. There was no way that Dave wasn't getting on that boat. Not when we came to this island only to do that and there was nothing else to do except big touristy stuff that we both hate! So we argue. For another 15 minutes. They are holding up the boat for us. I am totally flustered. At long last we get her to call her manager who agrees to let Dave go as long as he signs the liability waiver (that he is going to have to sign anyway). Why do people make things so complicated???

So off we go. I already know at this point that my leisurely boat ride in the sun was a bust. It is overcast and threatening to rain to say nothing of the wind. The poor boat is pitching and rolling and Dave, who gets sea sick, has just eaten a nice big lunch. Recipe for disaster. He got sick, really sick. The kind of sick where you loose all the color that a poor pasty Washington resident has mustered over the years. His eyes told it all. He went from being really excited to looking like this after his first of the two dives. In our 14 years together Dave has never thrown up. He would rather die I think...he came really close that afternoon.He was really excited about all the shraks he saw. There were dozens of them. He got brushed and bumped several times. And the poor guy feeding the sharks actually got bit!

In the end it was all good. He got off the boat and nearly collapsed on the dock. He lay there trying to recover as I looked at the pictures from his dive. Never have I been more grateful to not be scuba certified. I was terrified just looking at the pictures of Dave. He looks pretty terrified too. So even though there was no sun, and his stomach was doing the mambo I think he had a pretty good time.

The next day we headed to the hardly populated island of Eluthera. We rented a perfect little bungalow right on the beach.

That's it in the distance there nestled in the palm trees!

I was so excited! Best of all the sun was shining. It was a wonderful 80 degrees. We were on an island all to ourselves - or so it seemed. And I swear the people of Eluthera are the friendliest people I have ever met. There was the man that rented us our car without having us pay. (Apparently they are on a cash only system on the island and well...we were a little short on cash) He didn't want to strip us of the little cash we had. So he sent us on our way with a promise to pay him when we returned the car after visiting an ATM. Then there was the lady at the local grocery who let us return our milk after we had stoped by earlier to pick up some necessities for our bungalow and then driven 30 minutes to the bungalow only to realize too late that we couldn't check in until 4:00. It was 9:00. So back to the grocer we went with the strange request to put our milk back in the fridge. When we returned at 10:00 way after the shop closed we had no hopes of milk for our breakfast cereal. But there she was inside cleaning. She came to the door, let Dave in and we had milk. The lady we rented our snorkel gear from even came to work an hour early on the day we flew out so we could return our stuff and get our deposit back! Everyone waved, no one was pushy for tips, and it was really wonderful. We enjoyed a beautiful beach, some not-so-great snorkeling (we saw a conch- and that as about it) and then ate delicious food at a resort restaurant all by ourselves wishing we could see the sunset behind all those grey clouds that had rolled in.

That evening I took a bath (I miss baths! We haven't had a tub in our master bedroom ever.) It was second only to a hot tub which I wished they had but didn't. We opened all the sliding doors and fell asleep to the lulling sound of crashing waves right outside our door.

I set the alarm to awake with the sunrise. As I walked over to the window I knew we were not going to have a repeat of the day before. The sunrise was hidden behind a dense bank of clouds and it was raining. Sigh...what were we going to do all day stuck in our little house? We slept in, leisurely ate our cereal under the protection of the porch and then when the rain slowed to a drizzle we went for a walk on the beach. There was no waiting the weather out so we decided to make the most of it and off we went to visit the rest of the beaches on our list in hopes of better snorkeling than the day before. We were enamored with the pink sand beaches. At the end of the vacation it would all be worth it. It would be a really expensive (even though it was supposed to be quite affordable) trip to the Bahamas to collect pink sand for my sand collection. The snorkeling never did wow us. I can't believe how sterile the ocean was. Hardly a hint of life. We found a this nice sea star and others like them, some sand dollars a very few fish and this sting ray. It wasn't that bad, snorkenling in the rain. We were all wet anyway.

Then night came...and it was long and horrible. Here it is...THE NUMBER ONE THING WE COULD HAVE DONE WITHOUT!

BED BUGS!!!!!!!!!

We tossed and turned all night. Then awoke to feeling like our skin was on fire. No amount of itching brought relief. I counted the bites on just one arm - 50! And it was equally bad everywhere else. I had a bite on my eye lid, bites on my ears, little buggies had crawled on my face and bitten me here and there. Every knuckle of my fingers. I had bites on top of bites. Even Dave who is pretty resistant to bug bite itchiness (is that a word?) was itching. I was writhing. I would endure one plane flight of trying to sit still and not look like a total freak only to disembark, run for the bathroom, strip and scratch until my whole body was red enough to looked sunburned only to get back on another plane. Once we got to the states the first order of business was to find an airport shop that carried Benadryl. I don't know if I have ever been more thankful for modern medicine. Once we got home we threw everything in the wash. If I could have boiled all of our stuff I would have. I was so grossed out. Then the paranoia set in as I read about the obnoxious critters on the Internet. Had I brought this vermin into my own bug free home? We didn't sleep on our own bed for three nights. Every morning I woke up freaking out as I tried to determine if a particular bite was new or just suddenly itchy. There were just so many bites it was hard to tell if one might be new. I am going to have permanent memories of our little Bahama trip. Many little scars from compulsive itching. I have just now relaxed. We are pretty certain we haven't brought any critters into our home, the bites are just now stopping to drive me crazy and soon my face will look more normal (I didn't go to church on Sunday - the bites were the real reason - but I was grateful for Sara's runny nose to give me cover)

So all in all it was great to get away from the kids. Even better to have some good one-on-one time with Dave. I am supper excited to add some new sand to our collection. The kids had a vacation of their own with Grandma and Aunt Sallie who were awesome to them. And as evidenced by this beautiful welcome home sign they made us, were actually happy to see us again. And I have just laughed through a very lengthy documentation about a trip that went awry and packed a punch but was all worth it in the end.

A New Calling - Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

I was blog hopping this morning. There are a million better things for me to be doing, but I am addicted to my computer. If I'm being honest, the Internet and I are involved in a sordid love affair - don't tell Dave. I have this new collection of blogs that I like to visit. They all deal with photography in one way or another. And I came across a video clip that had me bawling buckets of tears yet made me feel uplifted. Go figure right. It's because it spoke to me, like I have been looking for something all along and now I've found it.

Some back ground. I think most people know that I LOVE children. Sometimes it is easier to love others people children...but I truly have a deep love for little people. In general the littler they are the easier it is for me to fall head over heels. Every talent I have I feel relates to kiddos. I love teaching, I love playing, I love being silly (my kids will be shocked - don't tell them please). I went into teaching because I was a natural, I loved it and admittedly I knew that for me it would be easy (compared to nursing - that was my second choice). Every job I have ever had that I loved was about children. My favorite was Sunshine preschool. I LOVED that job. I still remember those kids names! My favorite place to serve in the Church is in the Primary. I am languishing in Relief Society (women) right now. And most of all I really, really LOVE being a Mom and the great blessing I have to stay at home with my four children. But in addition to all of that I have always felt this yearning to give back and serve. To share my talents, and love children that need it most. I have always thought some day that I would like to volunteer at a children's cancer center. Just doing everyday things like reading books, doing puppet shows, playing with play dough...just trying to uplift children who are having to deal with adult things while still in their childhood. I may still do that someday when my children are grown. But this new wonderful way to serve I could easily do NOW! (maybe I could volunteer now too...) and it goes hand in hand with my efforts to develop my photography talent.

SO WHAT IS IT?????

It is an organization called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. I had never heard about them before. They are an organization of photographers and support people (assistants, editors etc...) that photograph babies with their last moments with their new families. It makes my heart ache to think that society sometimes tells parents to get over it and move on. Sometimes it seems like parents are encouraged to keep as little evidence as possible of that little life to "help" their own emotional healing. I know I don't speak from experience, but hypothetically speaking, I would want to be able to celebrate the life of my baby. It would be painful, but I would be grateful for that little slice of time to bond with my child. This organization helps parents get in touch with photographers to do just that. They come to the hospital to take photos of the family with their little one. I couldn't find information about fees...but I hope it is a free service. If not I will do it on my own without being a volunteer of NILMDTS.

I went straight away tho their website after watching the video on the blog I was on. It turns out there is some serious qualification stuff to deal with. First I have to get my website up and running. Then I apply and a board looks at my work to decide if I am good enough! I love it. They are sending real professional photographers to these aching families. I WANT TO BE PART OF THAT!

For My Friend Mary - We Are Still Alive

A Sneak Peak

Kate's First Story

In the dark, dark woods there was a flower and the flower had sunlight. But there was a dragon. And the dragon liked to eat flowers. The flower liked sun and the dragon liked dark. It was sunny so the dragon died. The flower was alive. The end.

Katie 4/13/2010 Age 5

This Last Weekend

Disclaimer:
If you are in anyway hungry for a little baby to warm your arms and heart. Do not scroll down this blog! In the past week I have gotten to hold and love two of the most handsome little boys ever! Little Baby S here was a mover and a shaker for sure. I turned to his Mom at one point and said, "did he wiggle like this in the womb?" He did not want to sleep...he wanted to go places!

One of the things I am really loving about having my own boutique photography studio for newborn photography is that I get to be with babies. I have to face it. My feisty two year is definitely no longer a baby. And I am pretty sure (there is a little wiggle room there) that I don't really want another. But babies just like kittens and puppies are irresistible. Now I don't have to miss the way they smell, there cottony soft skin and just being around there sweet innocence. I hope my clients don't mind that I fall in love with their little ones when they come to see me.

I have to enlist Dave's help in choosing the best, because I love so many. But here is Baby S, one handsome little man in the making!

Busy With Beautiful Babies

Well...this is what I've been up too. In the middle of company, holidays, school projects and all that fun stuff like laundry and shopping I've been snapping away! My wonderful girlfriend Sara Wilhelm let me mentor her during this shoot with one of her friends. Other than being super frustrated with my lens a couple of times I was happy with the experience. Little baby C is going to be one little handsome fellow. Have you ever seen eyebrows so perfect on a baby before?

It's Called A Banana Split

Chase loves when Grandpa comes to visit. Inevitably there is always wrestling. And all though Chase is pretty scrappy, he still isn't strong enough to take Grandpa down. Grandpa got Chase in this invincible hold. We had lots of fun laughing. According to wrestler Dave (his previous life) it's called a banana split and always leads to a pin. I wonder how many more years until Chase is king of the wrestle tournaments.