Me and Mr. C.

Kisses and a Boxed Lunch

2013-05-20T00:13:00.000-05:00

This week, Henry learned to kiss.

And when I say that he has learned to kiss, I mean that he really knows how to lay one on anyone close enough to flirt with. Sometimes he'll already be sitting in your lap and other times he'll crawl to you with the goofiest grin, but as soon as he gets close to your face, he becomes all business, grabs both of your cheeks, and leans in with nearly-puckered lips. Then he plants one on you (complete with drool), flutters his eyelashes against you, and pulls back smiling like a fool. And if you're lucky? He'll do this several times in a row. It makes my heart slide down my chest and into a pool of total butter, but I'll be honest: I'm not sure whether I should be proud of him for knowing how to kiss at seven months old or if I should be embarrassed that I taught him how to kiss by kissing him constantly since the day of his birth. I mean, I just can't help myself!

Also, this week, Maxwell packed his very first boxed lunch. His choices? An apple, a cheese stick, and a leftover dinner roll. He took it to the park where we ate lunch with friends and he was so proud of his Batman lunch box (read: Andrew's Batman lunch box that we swiped from the top of the fridge) that he didn't even mind when everyone else showed up with Chick-fil-a. If anything, he showed off his self-packed lunch instead. I mean, maybe we have a little chef in the making. He also tried out Lunchables for the first time this week and, to put it mildly, they were a hit. Obviously, if he's going to be a chef one day, he's going to specialize in gourmet dishes.

Annnnd in brotherly news, Max has stopped calling Henry "Henry" and now solely calls him "Huckstabull" which is pronounced "Huck-ta-bull". It is awesome. Also clever, which is good because Andrew came up with it several months ago.

Andrew the Clean Shaven

2013-05-18T20:24:00.001-05:00

After two years of sporting long locks and a full beard, Andrew plopped down at a new barber's shop in town and said "Give me a Macklemore and a clean shave" and walked out an hour later looking like a completely different person.

And me? I LOVE it!

I mean, the beard was fun and I have no doubt that it will eventually return, but in full disclosure, I'm thrilled to be able to smooch these cheeks again.

Huck at Seven Months.

2013-05-10T09:22:00.001-05:00

Seven Months?!?!?!?!
How did we get here already?

Days with our little Hucklebuck go a lot like this:

Bed Invasions + Nursing at least once every two hours (!!!) + Refusing baby food from Mom + Loving baby food from Dad + Stalking Napoleon to pull his hair + Knocking over Max's breakfast + Long morning naps + No afternoon naps + Lots of giggles + Constant babbles + Swinging in the swing after too much excitement + Crawling after Max + Jumping in the jumper + Getting sat on by his brother + Pulling Napoleon's ears + Playing with Max's toys and thinking baby toys are lame + Sitting in his high chair banging measuring cups and spoons on each other + Long spring walks + Bath time with brother + Lots of photos + 8:30 Bedtime + Making people stop in the store + Eating his feet when Dad's not around + Looking at people through their eyes and straight to their hearts + Lunches with Daddy + Giving Mom heart attacks by always finding paper to eat + Kisses + More Nursing + Trying to stand up + Screaming if Max and Dad leave the room without him + Distracting mom from work and chores + Play dates at the park + Riding in the Ergo + Being the happiest and most gorgeous and most overly-adored baby in the whole world.

So yes! It's hard being a seven month old with the nickname of Huckleberry Finn, but somebody's got to do it.

One of Those Annoying Posts

2013-05-09T07:30:00.000-05:00

Y'know those really annoying posts on Mommy Blogger websites where the mom (that's me, in this scenario) posts a whole bunch of phone photographs taken by their precocious toddler?

WELL.

Those posts always make me roll eye so hard. I mean, sure, it was probably cute the first time I saw a post like that, but is it cynical of me to think that sometimes bloggers instruct their kids how to take a photograph on their phone? Perhaps? Probably not?

Anyway!

I kept getting notifications that I didn't have any memory on my phone anymore and, when browsing my photos, I found 300 photographs like the ones below plus fifty black rectangles. It's been a week or so and I've held out posting these, but I can't help myself!

I guess that's what I get for giving my toddler my phone when he won't sleep during naptime. All this time, I've thought he was watching Dragon Tales on Netflix and Jake the Pirate on PBS Kids when really he was taking selfies while wearing a Batman cape.

At least he's not sporting duck lips?

Cabin Photos.

2013-05-08T22:16:00.000-05:00

I found these tonight and they just made me feel all kinds of nostalgic.

These are from a Chandler family reunion a month before we got married. The reunion lasted for a weekend and, every night, we fell asleep on twin beds in the corner of a huge room that somehow kept scooting closer to each other while we held hands between them. I baked homemade bread the morning of our trip and, as we drove for several hours to the reunion, the sun set as I had my feet on the dash and we held hands and talked about all the future had in store for us. It was scary how fast we fell in love and committed to each other and my stomach twisted the entire weekend we were there. On one of the afternoons, we got into a pretty large argument and we sat on one of the beds in an enormous room filled with bunk beds and Andrew held me as I cried because he had hurt my feelings but also because I had become that girl who fell in love in an instant and was marrying someone I had known for only a few short months. I was so excited and so happy but also felt like cut and running because I'd never been good at being someone's girlfriend and I was terrified I'd make a horrible wife and I was absolutely petrified of marrying into a tight knit family that I was only meeting for the second time. Afterwards, we went out on a walk in the woods and held hands and talked until our lungs hurt and we ate more of the homemade bread leftover from our trip and, that night, I slept in one of his shirts and made him wake up whenever I woke up in the middle of the night because I didn't want to be the only person awake in an enormous cabin filled with more people than I could ever count. We'd whisper and laugh and, when he fell asleep first, I'd pull his hand even closer to me and think about how, for the rest of our lives, this was how things were going to be- minus sleeping in separate beds and minus the other thirty-five people in the room.

Our non-married life is a blip in our lives together, but it sure was a sweet time.

So Many Photographs, So Little Time.

2013-05-06T22:04:00.004-05:00

After Henry was born, I had a bit of a photography epiphany.

I started getting serious about photography in June 2011. Before, I'd played around, set up a website, and did some portfolio building, but really I had no clue what I was doing. I mostly just shot for fun and without a huge desire to improve, but then things changed and I knuckled down and learned a lot of information in a short amount of time. I was really, really clueless for a long time. Like, I thought that full frame cameras made different shaped photographs than ones with crop sensors and had no idea how to select a focal point. But! I love photography and, for me, with lots of practice, things fell into place. I'd mastered the basics by the time Henry was born and shot a dozen weddings, countless portrait sessions, and had acquired some good equipment but, since then, I feel like I have started a whole new portfolio. And this portfolio? I really, really love it. I feel like my photographs are finally starting to say what I want and, for me, that is such a magnificent feeling. I was also recently admitted into the CMPro Program at Clickin' Moms and, honestly, that validation still feels awesome.

Oh? And did I mention I rebranded entirely?

I did!

Anyway, just thought I'd share a few photographs!

Sweet (and sassy!) Alivia

Lynh and Clay at Fayetteville Square

Lindsey's Bridals at James A. Reed Park in Lee's Summit

Samantha's Senior Photographs at Gulley Park

Photos of Courtney Dancing at Gulley Park

Paul and Jael at Home

Photographs at Maddie at the Greenhouse

Heather's Maternity Photographs at Lake Fayetteville

(Can't wait to meet her baby tomorrow!)

Was that enough self promoting for now? Yes? Sounds good!

Pizza.

2013-05-06T21:46:00.000-05:00

Monday is Andrew's night for dinner.

And tonight? He made pizza! I love when Andrew makes pizza because something about his pizzas are always magic. I don't know if it's the sauce or how much cheese he puts on or if it's the dough I make in the mid-afternoon, but it's seriously a piece of heaven. It's embarrassing how much pizza I eat when he makes pizza.

So, tonight, when the pizza was cooling, I went up to Max and said, "Are you ready for pizza?!". His back was turned against me since he was playing with the baby monitor and he isn't allowed to play with the baby monitor, but when I said "pizza", he whipped around pointed his finger at me and shouted:

"IT'S NOT PIZZA!! IT'S NINJA TURTLE PIZZA!!!!"

Well excuse me, Mister.

Just Some Rambles.

2013-04-29T22:06:00.000-05:00

For me, the hardest part about being a parent is that I constantly think, "I will never forget this!" as I stroke my baby's cheek or lay on the floor covered in stickers or come inside after a long day covered in sidewalk chalk or as I watch my son dance around because I've made a blanket fort or for any other million mom-reasons.

But! I do forget.

I have a pretty solid memory (before I had kids, it was razor sharp, but that's not so much the case anymore) and it breaks my heart that I forget things so consistently. I mean, it's to be expected. I am very rarely away from my children. They are always, at most, in the next room over unless I am heading off to a shoot. I love having them so close, but it does mean that some of my memories run together or disappear entirely. A few nights ago, I sat at the computer and cried over baby photographs of Max because, when I looked at them, I felt like I was seeing a brand new baby because I am so used to how Henry looks and, right now, he's what a baby looks like when I think of a baby. I miss that baby! I miss him as a one year old and an eighteen month old and a brand new two year old, too. And it's not just Max- I am completely baffled when I look at Henry's tiny baby photos. He was such a serene baby and still has the most chill vibe of any person I've ever known, but holy crud- that kid knows what he wants (and it's usually what Max wants).

I'm totally rambling, but it's just so flabbergasting that I am able to forget so much. That's one of the reasons I love photography so much. When I look back at a photograph, I always remember. So maybe my kids will grow up in front of a camera more than other kids because I really, really want to remember as much as possible, but in the grand scheme of things, I maybe have my camera out in front of them, on average, two or three minutes a day. I don't ask them to look at me and I just get my photograph and move on. I don't want them to feel like they have to act excited whenever I take a photograph of them because, truthfully, all I want to do is remember them, remember us, and remember our entire family. This phase of life is not going to last long and I just want to carry it with me the best way I know how.

BUT. That is not what I came here to write about tonight. What I wanted to write was that, this afternoon, I was sitting on Max's bed watching Henry jump three feet in the air in his beloved jumper. Andrew had just got home and Max barreled into his bedroom, threw open his closet, tore out his Batman cape, and hug it the way I hugged him that time we came back from Italy and hadn't seen each other for ten days. And I thought, "He is the sweetest thing and I don't not want to forget this.". My little boy is so full of love and happiness and I just am so proud that I am his mom and so excited for all the things that are going to happen in his life.

Annnnnd here's a totally unrelated photograph of Andrew and Henry from early this month:

Saturday Morning at the Library

2013-04-28T14:05:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, we went to the library. This isn't anything new (insert chuckling emoticon), but this time around, Henry wanted in on the action. No baby stroller or baby carrier for him! Craft time was going on in the corner (don't worry, we participated later) and somehow Henry went from being happily held by his parents to pounding puzzle pieces on the table in, like, point-eight seconds flat. And holy moly- if we took those pieces away, he SCREAMED. If we took him off the table and put him on our laps, he SQUEALED.

I just put those in caps because when Henry screams or squeals, there's nothing nomal-toned about it. He started squealing when Andrew was upstairs and around the corner and Andrew could still hear him. When he squeals, he SQUUUUEEEEEAAAALS. It's really cute and also really loud and also super embarrassing in public- the kind of embarrassing that I wave off with a wave of my hand when someone makes eye contact like, "Oh, babies are so cute. He's not that loud, right? Look how cute his hair is!!" while secretly shaking in my boots because, well, it's not like babies have off buttons that put them straight to sleep.

So basically, if you don't want to look at the pictures I just posted or read the two paragraphs above, on Saturday morning, Henry became a library lover. An over-the-moon-cross-my-heart kinda library lover. The kinda library lover that really likes puzzle pieces and listens to library books at home, wide eyed and bushy tailed.

I hope he stays like that for the rest of his life.

Andrew and the Case of the Ugly Shirt.

2013-04-26T16:36:00.000-05:00

A few days ago, I was laying on the bed at night and I was, like, kinda ticked. Not ridiculously mad or anything, but just kinda bugged because I had seven or eight loads of laundry to fold and putting away laundry is probably the thing I like least about being an adult. It's just so... tedious. I hate it.

Anyway, I was laying there thinking about how I didn't want to fold the laundry when Andrew came and sat in front of me and started cracking jokes and, also, more than likely started showing me something on his iPad that he thought was hilarious. I am a sassafrass of a wife, so this bothered me more and, frustrated, told him to take off his shirt because I didn't like it- I didn't say this, but he had been wearing it for months more and more frequently and I just really didn't care for it and thought "Again?" every morning he put it on.

Back to my story. I said "Take your shirt off. I don't like it." and, in less than half a second, he ripped the shirt off and said "You don't like this shirt?!" followed by "I hate this shirt! I only wore it because I thought you liked it!". Then he flung it to the floor and, as they say, the shirt became history.

It's so dumb, but we are still laughing about this.

Let's Talk For a Minute About Chaos.

2013-04-19T16:18:00.002-05:00

First off- my six month old?

The one with this face and the smile that crinkles his nose and sends arrows of love straight out of his heart and into the very soul of the person looking at him?

He crawls.

What?!?! Everyone told me that things would go faster with a second child but, really, nothing could have prepared me for how fast it goes. I've already had one failed attempt trying to convince Andrew to jump on the bandwagon for baby number three as soon as possible, but for some reason, he thinks a third baby wouldn't be wise and would probably make me lose my sanity (which is completely true and, to clarify, I made it five and half months before squealing "I want annnnnother!!!" which is, like, really good for me. I love babies.).

Anyway! This kid crawls! Granted, he mostly crawls backwards, but earlier this week I started catching him sitting up and, this morning, he finally sat up in front of me. Like, "Oh hey, Mom! Yes! This is how I've been transitioning from a crawling to sitting position this week!". Also, his hair? It looks like the above picture all the time unless he's in the bath and if he's in the bath, well, he's usually gnawing on a dinosaur or repetitively dunking a Batman toy so his hair doesn't really matter then. Henry is probably the chillest person I have ever met in my entire life, but I am one thousand percent certain he is going to be sneaky in the way only a seriously handsome little boy can be sneaky. Cause this one? Pretty sure he's going to be a bonafide Casanova by the time he's five since, well, he already kisses.

As for our firstborn.

All this kid wants to do is play pretend. He loves to be a robot and right now he is running around pretending to be a puppy. He hardly ever leaves the house without a Batman cape and refuses to call Henry by his name- he calls him Robin instead. He has SO much imagination and, frankly, is absolutely exhausting to keep up with. We read books every day and today I tried our first "big boy book" (code: Magic Finger by Roald Dahl) and we made it twenty pages in! I am so excited for him to grow and to read all kinds of amazing stories. He also has more toys than any child in a two bedroom apartment ever should, loves to watch shows on my phone, and is currently saying "I'm a dog!" while trying to drink water hands-less out of the bowl I just gave him (and no, he won't be able to bring that bowl to dinner). He is exactly how I pictured how he would be and we wouldn't change anything about him except for the fact that he never sleeps. Homeboy sleeps less than ten hours a day!

Then there's me and Andrew. We are pretty much the same as we always have been. I am needy and annoying and emotional and really funny. He is supportive and the nicest person on Earth and is always reading something and is always thinking about politics and has switched his focus to LDS History and is still the best dad who has ever lived. I bought him Little Shop of Horrors the other day when I went to Target (by myself!) the other day. We watched it once the boys went to bed and he loved every second of it. I hadn't seen the move in a long time, but knew it gave me nightmares as a kid. Yep, still hate it. I watched it for him, though!

Oh! Last month, we almost moved to Salt Lake City but in the end, we stayed here instead. Andrew was pretty let down and I was relieved I didn't have to pack up our family. I'd love to blog here more but I just haven't made time for it. Andrew and I only have a few hours together every night (and that's only if we stay up until at least midnight) and since I have a child attached to me from seven until nine every day and since Henry is mostly still in the bed, my chances for family blogging usually lose out with my chances to work. I've been shooting up a storm and have been getting increasingly better (and increasingly obsessed) at photography and we are excited to see where it eventually goes! I am hoping to start teaching workshops sometime in the future and I'm realllly hoping to get into outdoor newborns this summer, but don't really know anyone who is pregnant, so we will see how that goes!

/end rambles written over the course of two hours.

Easter Weekend

2013-03-31T23:34:00.001-05:00

Our Easter weekend was full of seventy-degree weather, two Easter egg hunts, an enormous amount of candy, an even bigger amount of allergies (pretty sure I'll be in bed all day tomorrow), four different tents set out across the apartment for Max, and lots of snuggles. Oh! And a porch completely covered in sidewalk chalk and no less than two new shirts ruined by egg dye and vinegar. You only live once, y'know? Hope everyone had a great Easter!

Bedtime is Drama.

2013-03-18T20:25:00.002-05:00

Andrew and I just had the most ridiculous bedtime experience. Both of our boys think naps are for sissies (or babies or girls or kids who don't like balloons or anyone other than them), so bedtime is always DRAMA.

Yes. I just wrote DRAMA in all caps like a fourteen year old hearing about her best friend's boyfriend holding hands with her other best friend. DRAMA.

Anyway. Tonight!

Max went crazy.

Henry went crazy.

Andrew ended up sitting in front of Max's door holding the doorknob so Max couldn't escape. I ended up taking a three minute breather with all the lights off, noise-reducing headphones on my ears as some song from 2004 played as loud as the headphones allowed while Huck screamed in his swing.

Andrew picked up Henry.

Max escaped.

I took my headphones off, tore off my sweatshirt, and dove into bed with Henry because he was past the point of no-boobs (Massive Tears! Madly Sucking Air! Food Needed! Y'know- DRAMA). Henry nursed himself to sleep and, when I walked into the hallway where Andrew was still holding Max's door, we looked at each other and then looked away because we were both so close to laughing that we knew we'd set Max off once again.

So I sat down and started this blog post and then Andrew walked up to me and showed me a photo of Max, sleeping soundly on his floor. Getting in the bed would be giving into the man, right?

We have some lively ones.

PS. Yesterday, when Andrew picked Star Wars for our Sunday movie, we had this conversation:

Me: "So Darth Vader thinks he's doing the right thing, right?"

Andrew: "Yes."

Me: "And that makes him even more dangerous than everyone else?"

Andrew: "Yeah. Like a Conservative."

Don't worry- we're still Mormon. Always will be. Just not Conservative.

Dinner at the Park.

2013-03-14T23:31:00.001-05:00

During a photoshoot this afternoon when my model slipped into a store to change, I whipped my phone out and sent this to my main man Andrew (whose main man is Max, as Max would like to tell you): "Chickfila Picnic at the Park?". I had barbecue chicken in the crockpot and I knew both of our kids were naked, but it was seventy and sunny and, forty-five minutes later, I pulled up to a park full of people with two bags full of chicken and fries, two lemonades, and an apple juice. Andrew arrived at the park less than two minutes behind me, opened up the doors to our newest hand-me-down vehicle, and let out Max, then the dog, and then walked up to me carrying Henry as I spread food out over a blanket and we grinned like fifth graders who had just written their names in black sharpie on the bottom of the elementary school slide.

One thing I never thought about when I thought about building my life with someone was that I was actually building my life with someone. My life is so intertwined with Andrew's that I don't know where mine starts and where his begins. I mean, I know who I am and he knows who he is but so much of our lives are "ours" and not mine and yours. Sure, he is in school and I am still busting my butt trying to make it an a field that's busy twisting and turning everytime a new DSLR is announced, but practically everything else is ours.

Our children. Our home. Our afternoon. Our date night. Our love. Our family photographs. Our cars. Our hopes. Our dreams. Our future plans. Our support of one another. Our favorite pillow that we battle over. Our first year of marriage. Our book collection. Our late nights. Our last minute picnic the first day of real spring.

"Our". It's a beautiful word, isn't it?
(Also, it looks really weird after writing it so many times.)

How Henry Became a Huck.

2013-03-12T23:38:00.002-05:00

Henry's real name is William.

As in, his name middle name is Henry and his first name is William. Sometimes I feel bad that we are calling him by his middle name, but mostly I don't because my real name is Elisabeth and whenever I write my name in a letter or email to someone, I have to remember whether I knew the recipient in a time I called myself Elisa or Lissa- they sound the same, but they're spelled different (full disclosure: Lissa is the easiest one to go by because the spelling of Elisa is super confusing and Elisabeth is super long). Henry is easy to spell and I've been pretty shocked at how many people I've heard of that go by their middle names (Brad Pitt! Mitt Romney! My Mother in Law!), so it's not like we've done anything crazy like spelling his name Henree or Henriiiii or Rhenry with a silent "R", which is good because we don't live in Utah anymore.

But! Of all the nicknames this little man with the fuzzy hair wears, he wears the name "Huck" like a champion. We call him William Henry Harrison and Huckleberry and Hen and Henny and Little Fuzz and Baby Bear and Indiana Jones and Sir Farts a Lot, too, but Huck? Huck! That short and sweet little name has become the name synonymous with the sweet little face above. It fits him like a glove and a thick sweater in winter and flip flops in the summer. It's his name and, at five months, he wears it well.

Also Andrew? He's a sneaky one. Three weeks ago, I sat on the couch chattering about how weird it was that everyone besides me only called Henry by his nickname and then Andrew started laughing because one of the main reasons he picked the name Henry was because he wanted a boy named Huck.

And that boy named Huck? He's got him for good (and me, too. I've got Huck for good, too).

The Bat Shoes.

2013-03-11T09:45:00.004-05:00

On Friday night, we went to Kohl's on a mission. Yes! Kohl's! The very place I swore I would never buy clothes from once I left my parent's house but somehow ended up with my sole store-only credit card as soon as my (first) little blondie took his first step. We'd seen an ad for 40% off Imaginex toys (you haven't missed it! It's still going on!), so we thought it would be fun to buy Max a Bat Boat since he owns basically every Batman toy in America.

We got there, couldn't find the Bat Boat, convinced Maxwell that he didn't really want the Riddler's van because it would be more fun to get dinosaurs for Batman and Robin to ride across town on (this was harder to convince him than I ever imagined possible) and then we started strolling around the store. We got to the shoe section, parted ways (me with Huck, Andrew with Max) and then three minutes later, Andrew started hollering for us to come check out Max's shoe size. Max has always been hard to fit for shoes- one of the two reasons he mainly wears Converse is because they let in thick and tall feet, the other is because they are awesome- but it turns out ALL of Max's shoes were two sizes too small. Two Sizes! He's been wearing a size seven for nine or ten months, but he's a size nine.

And that's when the quest for the Batman Converse began.

See, earlier last week, Andrew told Max that if he calmed down about something horribly traumatic like naptime or dropping his blanket in the car or leaving the park, he'd pick him up some Batman shoes. Yes, we resort to bribery in this house. So! Max was dead-set on Batman shoes, only there were not Batman shoes to be found. Superman? Check. Spiderman? Check. Neon velcro shoes that looked like Reeboks but weren't? Check and Check. We left Kohl's, drove a half mile away to the nearest Famous Footwear, and couldn't find anything there, either. I mean, we found honking huge Avenger's shoes, but no way was Andrew (or I!) going to let Maxwell walk around with normal kids shoes, especially when he turned his nose up to them.

Anyway, like normal parents, we came home, looked up Converse shoes and found Robin shoes, Joker shoes, and basically a hundred other kids shoes that didn't have Batman on them. We decided the Joker would have to do, but there weren't any Joker, size nine, shoes left. Then my husband was a genius, looked up Journey's online, and we found the last pair of size nine Batman shoes in the state (that's an exaggeration- but it's what it felt like!). So! The next morning, I called and put the shoes on hold (seriously, I have now become the mom who calls ahead to put shoes on hold which means I'm definitely a mom now), and then we went to the mall with a little Batman-clad two-point-five year old to pick up some Batman shoes.

He. Was. Thrilled.
(as obvious by the photo above)

We tried those suckers on, Max's face lit up like a million fireworks, and then we walked around the mall so that Max could wave to everyone who called out "Hey, Batman!". It was the perfect Saturday morning. And yes! He is carrying a tiny Joker and a tiny Batman in the photo above. Max is nothing if not dedicated.

PS. We also bought him the cutest pair of Nike's (his first!) that he calls "my running shoes".
PPS. He's been sleeping in his shoes.

What We've Been Up To.

2013-02-23T20:37:00.000-06:00

Can we talk for a second about how fast time is flying for me right now?

I know, it's basically the lamest subject on Earth that everyone talks about all the time and no one really wants to hear about because, let's face it, everyone only has twenty-four hours in a day. It's not just me. But! In all sincerity, time is flying. It's flying and driving and skyrocketing and plummeting into the depths of the ocean, too! Honestly, I don't even know how it's happening, but I do know that I will remember this winter as the winter of sickness AND the winter I got fat. I don't say that in a depressing way, but turns out if your kids are sick five days out of the week (where are you, spring?!), you mainly stay inside on the couch or on the bed or on the floor all day. And! If you're breastfeeding and not one of those magical nursing ladies who drop all their baby weight as soon as their colostrum turns to milk, you pack on some love weight. I'm kinda upset about it, but also kinda not because I know I'll slim back down once it gets warm and my children stop throwing up and I no longer have to wash the blankets twice a day because they're covered with snot.

That's a lovely image, no?

Anyway! Lately, Henry has turned into this massive tank of baby who, while still the chillest baby who has ever graced this side of the Mississippi (and the other side of the Mississippi, too), wants to stand and sit all day long. If he's in my lap, he's standing on my lap. If he's on the couch, he's propped up. If he's in his bouncy chair, he's pulling himself up by the bar across his lap. If he's on the floor, he's sitting. If my arms are tired from helping him stand, he's standing in his jumper and giving everyone the stink eye because no one else needs a harness to stand on their own two feet. That boy wants to grow up and it is killing me!

Actually, that's kinda a lie. Henry wants to grow up when it comes to movement, but that child is the most enormous nurser. I have tried rice cereal, apples, bananas, and prunes (don't judge me- he hadn't pooped in five days) and he has refused every single one. He takes a bite, then clamps his mouth shut and wants to nurse immediately. But! If you're holding him while eating, he tries to knock the food out of your hand because hey! If everyone else is eating pizza, Huck is eating pizza, too. No mashed up baby food for him.

I love that baby. He's like my soulmate (or one in my three-person list of soulmates, but whatev. Same thing).

As for Max. Oh! My sweet Max! He is obsessed with Batman. Everything in our lives revolves around Batman and, yesterday, we watched the Adam West Batman twice. Every time it starts, Max runs into his room and grabs a Batman and a shark, stands two inches away from the massive television that I like to hide behind the entertainment center doors, and waits until Batman gets bitten by the shark. And you guessed it! When that happens, Max's toy shark bites his toy Batman's leg and Max runs around the room screaming. Batman is the highlight of his life right now, unless you count coloring and begging to play in the bath (with Batman) fifteen times a day.

Also! On Wednesday, I pre-heated the oven for lunch, smelled something funny, looked down at my leg and ENORMOUS flames were in my oven. They were at least a foot tall, took up the entire oven, and caused so much smoke we had to evacuate our apartment while mega-fans aired everything out. The cause of that fire? Plastic toys in a tupperware container. So! For the rest of my life, I will check the oven at least three times before turning it on.

And yes! I still do the photography thing and I'm not afraid to link it.

My Favorite Model Session This Year + The Cutest Photographs of Maxwell Ever Taken (Seriously) + My Amazing Friend and Her Husband

Daily Life Posts of Henry and Max Being Cute

Huckle-Buck at 4 Months.

2013-02-04T14:29:00.003-06:00

16 Pounds. 26 inches long.

Face full of eczema and a heart full of love.

We are so in love with our golden-haired little man. He is just deliciously perfect.

I want to type out this: "Adjusting to life with two kids has been quite the adventure," but that doesn't even start to sum it up. It's utter chaos with a side of mountainous laundry, but it is also really fun and has me singing out loud every day. My boys are so wonderful.

Tornado Warnings in the Tub

2013-01-30T11:05:00.001-06:00

Yesterday, after a day full of runny noses and me trying not to pull out my hair, we had an emergency tornado warning. So, like any mom, I put my kids together in Henry's crib (that thing is heavy!) and then, less than two minutes later, found myself sitting on a towel in the tub drenched with water from bath toys with Huck sitting in my lap, happily chewing on his hand while Max attacked us with a green plastic snake. Don't worry- we survived (from the tornado, too!).

And then! Later that night! I sent Max out with Andrew to pick up pizza toppings, diapers, and baby medicine in his beloved Batman pajamas that I have been washing daily and, on the way back home, he slipped and fell in a mud pile, so after I washed his hands and walked away thinking I'd cleaned him up all the way, he started screaming "My butt! My butt! My butt, Mama! There's mud on my butt!!".

He's going to love that I wrote that about him on the Internet someday.

PS. I am still wearing yesterday's clothes, but I have brushed my teeth so that counts for something, right?

See a model session at the library here.

New Blog!

2013-01-29T17:20:00.000-06:00

... Photo blog that is...

Come see my new website here!
It is ridiculously pretty and I'm so excited to share it!

ROOOARs, "Oh No!", and Gotham Jail.

2013-01-16T14:29:00.002-06:00

I guess it's pretty obvious that I'm not that into blogging over here anymore. I used to love to post so much, but with all the posting I do over at my photo blog (including a 365 project mainly of my boys), I can let weeks slip by without realizing "Hey. I probably should have blogged that."

But! Today, Max laid on his stomach across from me with a dinosaur and a Little People car and when he said "ROOOOOOAR" in a dinosaur voice followed by a "Oh no! Run away! Run to the Bat Cave!" in a Little People play figure kind of voice, I thought to myself "What kind of Mom would I be if I let that go unnoticed?" So here I am while Henry sleeps and Max pretends to be asleep for "naptime" (which, lately, is really destroy-the-bedroom time), typing and laughing to myself because this mom thing is going by in a blink. It's hard, but I can't believe I've been doing this for over two and a half years.

(Note to my children: Quit growing up!!!)

Anyway, more about today: Henry had an appointment for eczema this morning and, on the way, Max threw up which I could say is a rare event but he loves to hurl in the car (ps. it's still gross every time). So! By the time I had him cleaned up, we were twenty minutes late to our appointment (thus voiding our appointment) so I did what any Mom would do- I threw the two of my boys into a Target shopping cart, bought a whole bunch of over-the-counter baby skin cream (and soap!) and then marched to the toy aisle where I let Max pick out any toy he wanted. I tried to convince him he wanted an enormous green ogre that made noise, but instead he opted for Gotham Jail (complete with Bane and Max's fifth Batman action figure). He is his father's son.

PS. That over-the-counter Aquaphor stuff is killing it on Henry's little red face. The eczema's almost gone compared to what his chubby cheeks looked like yesterday!

PPS. The Sophie Giraffe toy everyone has? She sure is cute but her squeaking drives Napoleon crazy. He stalks her, so she lives in a wreath that's hanging on a coat closet door.

Houston, We've Found Our Hands.

2013-01-14T18:32:00.000-06:00

I just can't get enough of this baby boy and his sock covered hands and the smell of his skin and his big, gummy smiles and the way he can't stop touching my face whenever I hold him. He is the sweetest.

Fifteen Months Ago.

2013-01-11T00:12:00.001-06:00

Fifteen months ago, I stood in my Aunt Jo's kitchen and told my mother that she was wrong. I could handle a six week old puppy in a two-bedroom apartment inhabited by my fourteen moth old baby and, what was more, I could handle them both while my husband was gone fifteen hours out of the day and I was spending all my spare time trying to break into a really odd photography market. Then she gave me a look that telepathically said "Hold off on the babies for now, then" and I gave her a look that said "We both know I already have my pre-pregnancy OB appointment scheduled".

She uncrossed her arms, gave an exasperated sigh and said, "It's just going to be really hard."

When I met her eyes, I felt like my chest exploded and, before I could check myself, I blurted out, "I just have so much love to give!" I wanted to laugh at myself so hard because, really, no one I know says such ridiculous things out loud, but we were in the middle of a crowded house and I didn't want to draw attention to our conversation, so I swallowed my laugh- a laugh that would have rung out full of love and hope and all kinds of ridiculous dreams.

My mom is an amazing mom- I'm not trying to gloat when I say she's the definition of a wonderful mother to each of her six children- so I knew that she was trying to help me. But I didn't really want to be helped. I wanted to fulfill all of my dreams right then and there. I had a cute baby and a cute husband and a cute apartment and a degree in a not-so-cute black frame and, by heaven, I was learning how to take control of a camera, too. Andrew and I had less than $2500 to our names (yes- twenty five hundred) and no steady job in sight (for either of us, no matter how much either of us applied all over town), but in a lot of ways, those few months when we first moved to Arkansas were the happiness I have ever been. There were a lot of tears, but there was so much hope between the two of us.

Fast forward fifteen months.

Having a puppy in a small apartment with a baby was ridiculously hard and it got harder once I got pregnant. And having two children? I am bone tired all the time and, more often than not, I end up cleaning our home at three in the morning because it's the only time I have to get everything done. If I'm being totally honest, I feel like I have aged ten years since that afternoon I spent talking to my mom in the kitchen. Luckily, though, Huck isn't my first baby and I know that things will get easier. I'll sleep more, I'll get my waist (mostly) back, I'll learn to manage my time better, and, bit by bit I'll regain the confidence I used to have (for some reason, I am extremely self-conscious in a "no one look at me!" way after having children). I did it before and I'll do it again.

And that love I felt while talking to my mom? The kind that bubble up in my chest and made me want to jump up and down with giddiness? It's still here. It's all around me and it is all around my family, too (super shaggy dog included).

Just Call Us The Sicks.

2013-01-05T20:14:00.004-06:00

This week, we've entered into, like, our fifth round of sickness in the past two months. Andrew woke up with pink eye and Maxwell just went to bed with a watering eye, a nasty cough, and a whole lot of sniffles. I've been sick for four days and Henry? Well he's just a little smiler and the absolute loudest baby on earth.

Still, I'm ready for springtime- or even just winter without the flu.

Now if you'll excuse me, there's a two-year-old whining "Mommy! Mommy!" while laying by his bedroom door (and Mommy is me).

Henry's Last Day as a Two Month Old.

2013-01-03T20:23:00.005-06:00

Yep. This one's ready to be a three month old blob of baby love tomorrow, especially since he's rocking an oversized t-shirt that still fits Max and a green hat that has a flower on the front (don't worry- I turned it around so he never knew it was there).

Also, his face? It kills me.

But y'all have heard all that before.