It's time to bid this blog adieu...

But don't worry...I'm starting a new one.  A better one.  One that merges all of my many many blogs into one.  See you there? 

Typical cookie conversation

A: Mom, remember those cookies that we made to take out to people? Did you take all of them out?"

M: No, there are some on top of the fridge.

A: Oh, couldn't I just have one? Please?

M: Well, ok, I guess.

A: Two, couldn't I just have two cookies?

Smart move kiddo. Don't they learn the most amazing bargaining tactics?  And you could insert crackers, gum, cheese, or any other treat into the cookie slot...

Christmas portraits outtakes...

I am a serious perfectionist with my Christmas cards - thus I never ever send them out.  I just want them to be unique and cute and fun and Christmassy and all that great stuff and they never work out.  This year I decided no matter what I would do it.  And so I came up with a plan and took some pictures for it and got it designed.  Now let's hope I get it printed, addressed, stamped, and sent!  Phew!  Anyhow, here are some of the pictures from the session we did that I thought were sweet but I'm not using them on the card.  I borrowed Marisa's white paper backdrop and set it up in my kitchen since it's got the most windows.  Even though I love my outdoor sessions more than anything I still think these turned out waaay cute. 

p.s.  if you haven't heard from me on facebook or through email and you'd like to get a card...comment with your address so I can add it to the list!

Here's our happy Asher!


And beautiful Peter...


My rascally older boys...


And cutie-pie Andrew. This second pose is just like him - he always has to do something different...


And my first born - Elijah. And I must say he can make some really funny faces...


Now, after looking at all of that beautiful luminescent skin...here we two old geezers are...


Merry Christmas, ya'll!

Jolly Old St. Nicholas...

Now, first off, to each his own about whether or not to tell your kids about Santa Claus but in case you are a fence sitter I decided to share why I love sharing the idea of Santa Claus with my kids...

Here are a couple quotes from random people I found on some forum...

"Some things are difficult to teach. Like altruism, unconditional love, dedication to a cause, sacrifice, etc.

Santa Claus is the personification of many qualities that are difficult to find in people. At least as unwavering virtues. Parents want their children to know him and love him. Great experience with giving, hoping, receiving and yearning can lead to terrific introspection. Even for very young children."

"Santa Clause is spiriturly real, he is the spirit of giving..."

And this is from a study done by child psychologists on this very subject...

"While Santa may not be a flesh-and-blood person, the cultural truth of St. Nicholas is key to a child's developing imagination, Smith said.

"Santa Claus is a shared cultural image of benevolence and kindness and you don't want to undermine that," he said.

"With Santa Claus, you are trying to enrich the child's life by sharing something that you both enjoy," he said. "Santa Claus embodies the whole idea of the Christmas season as the time of caring, togetherness and magic."

Smith said that a child's belief in the story of Santa Claus enables the child to develop a sense of wonder about the jolly character and use their imagination. Using their imagination to consider the possibilities is key to problem solving and other mental tasks down the line, he said.

"Santa Claus is a loving, merry person who cares about kids so much that he wants to bring toys to kids throughout the whole world," Smith said. "If you take Santa Claus out of the picture, you diminish that child's sense that they are special.

"We know that Santa is not real, but the truth of Santa is the shared cultural commitment to kids, to bring happiness into children's lives," he said.

Some parents may think teaching their children to believe in Kris Kringle is setting them up for big disappointment when they find out he doesn't exist.

Smith said that children who discover Santa isn't real rarely blame their parents. In fact, the most common response is to keep the story going so they not only continue to get presents, but because they recognize the joy their parents get from the experience, he said."


And here is a great thing from my friend Kathy's blog post about this very same thing...

All our lives, truths are placed before us in symbolic form - not to deceive us, but to impress the truth upon us more convincingly. And, of course, when we are very young we comprehend only what we can see, feel, hear, smell, or taste."


In the end...I tell my children about Santa Claus because in an increasingly dangerous and toxic world, why not let their be another MAN of goodness, love, purity, and kindness?  We need more good men out there - more goodness in general.  So we will always celebrate and LOVE Jolly Old St. Nicholas at our house... 

Speaking of cute babies

Tell me that this doesn't make you happy and hopeful and full of goodness?   Best movie preview ever.  I can't wait...

Merry Christmas, Baby...

WHY JOY-OGRAPHY: The birth of a workshop.

About 8 years ago my sister and I were talking and she said she had bought the cutest matching outfits for her daughters and since I had a nice camera she wondered if I could take them. I had a pentax point and shoot that my parents had bought me my senior year in high school and it took fairly good pictures so I said yes. These are a few of the pictures from that day.  I don't remember my theories exactly that day except there were a lot of pretty flowers and once I had seen a photo where the flowers kind of framed the image so I tried to copy that.





This photo below in particular I was proud of. I didn't know how it happened but I liked how the flowers had kind of filled with light and appeared to be glowing. I knew that something photographic had happened but I couldn't tell you what and I couldn't recreate it and that bothered me.



So for the next year little while I took more pictures of my sister and her family. And then friends started asking for me to do it too. I still left my camera completely on auto but tried to do some different angles and things. And it usually worked out ok. And slowly my business grew. Eventually I had a portfolio I would carry around with me with prices listed in the back. And I was a professional - meaning people payed me.  Meanwhile my best friend from high school, Marisa, was going through the same thing.  We'd call each other on the phone and commiserate about our failed sessions or the stress of being a professional but only slightly knowing what we were doing.

And the learning curve was steep. We both had entire sessions come back from the lab(remember these were the days of film) with nothing but black. It was terrible. We really had no idea what had gone wrong so every time we picked up my pictures we were was filled with dread.

I remember once a client who was unhappy with the pictures I took looked at a photo in my portfolio and said, "I want a picture like that one - how did you do that?" And I had no idea how I did it. It was just a stroke of luck - as were nearly all of my good images. I'd take as many pictures as I could and hope that at least one picture per roll of film was good. In that three years I went through 6 different cameras. I didn't know what to get so I just kept changing gear hoping it would be right. I asked professionals who were better than me and what gear they used then I got it - without having any idea how to use it. I remember in particular shooting a wedding two days before the birth of my second son - huge with child and three cameras hanging around my neck. I had been "professional" for two years and though my composition wasn't bad still most of my good images were due to luck.

Though very slowly I did get better.  I read every photography book I could get my hands on.  Often skipping entire chapters because I didn't understand what they were saying.   I scoured others websites trying to recreate what they had taken.  It was a process that took years.   But it didn't need to take that long.

A couple of years ago I had a good friend who wanted to get into photography and asked me for help.  And though I had done the same thing for others over the years this time I had gotten to a point where I really knew what to tell her.  I helped her choose her gear and gave her some "assignments" and I was amazed how quickly she improved.  She talked me a lot as well as others professionals.  Her example made me realize that if I had just been given the right tools and the right direction my growth would have been so much quicker.  I wouldn't have spent years relying on luck and my camera's auto mode to get a good image.   The trick was having someone who could help you understand what all of those chapters in those photography books meant, someone who could tell you why your images didn't work, someone who could tell you which camera to leave hanging around my neck.  I love to teach so excited to realize that I could be that person for others now.    And thus...the joy-ography workshop was born.

So excited about this!

So, we are doing workshops and it's going to be so much fun.  I have always loved talking to people about how to get started in photography and now Marisa and I are going to make it official with a  workshop on it.  It's also nice because most photography workshops last several days and cost thousands of dollars - which means most of us moms can't attend.  So, viola, you have...


this

I'll talk more about it later but we're heading out of town to Boise for the holiday and I don't have much time!  You know what I'd love you to the ends of the earth for?  Talk about it on your blog...make it viral!

Weston's show...

So I have this amazingly cool brother and he's in a band called The Archer's Apple. And they are really really good. Like a lot of local bands sound like several talented people playing instruments at the same time - but his band sounds like music - like really good music. I'm obviously a proud sister. Well, after forgetting my camera at the last show and hating myself the whole time, I made up for it by bringing it this past weekend at a really great show...here goes!

This is Sadye Price she played first. And she is uber-good. Like, I could listen to her sweet songs all day. And isn't she a doll?



This was a house show and it was packed - but that was good because it was super cold outside so all of those warm bodies made it nice and cozy inside. And you can see my husband in the bottom right corner.



And here they are rockin out - I love the motion blur going on here...



And here's my cute brother. He is the youngest of 6 kids and so he's gotten A LOT of advice from a bunch of overprotective siblings - but he's taken it in stride and become the nicest boy who also happens to play the guitar really really well.



And here's Seth and he is also ubertalented. He has amazing songwriting ability. I love it. And once again notice the cool motion blur...



And here's some random cute indie girl whose picture I stole along with another of the crowd:



And Drew Danburry finished the night out but we had to leave before he played. I had heard his music before but never live so I was bummed but we have four kids at home and had to get backe to the babysitter. He is rumored to be the nicest guy on the face of the planet.



All in all it was a great time and it brought me back to my college days. And I was fun to take some pictures that were a little different than what I normally do. Thanks, Weston!

Always good for a laugh...

Leslie's little family...

A friend of mine from Kingwood is trying to adopt another child. She has this video which shares info about her beautiful little family. If you know of anyone who might be able to bless their family - either pass this info on or let me know!

My four sons.

Last night we did a very quick session of our own family. Here are some pics of my boys...

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is my wonderful Dad's 65th birthday. I know some people don't like to say how old they are turning but I think it makes it more meaningful to know the age and since it's my blog I get to! Anyhow, the best tribute I can give my dad is that I had an amazing childhood. I mean one of those dreamy childhoods that everyone yearns for. You know the kind - like the kids in The Sandlot - that was my experience as a child. And so much of that is due to my wonderful parents. My dad is a hardworking, spiffy-dressing, goodlooking, gospel-loving, son of a gun and we all love and appreciate him more than words can express. I love you, Dad!
Happy Birthday!
Here's last years post if you want to read even more about this great guy...

So, what do you do all day?

Today I found the cutest house online(see link - it's so darn cute). It's stupid of me to be looking when it's not anywhere in the near future but I couldn't help it. And while I was looking Peter was being so good. Then I turned and saw why he was being so quiet behind me.



Can I say that I HATE this stool? He always finds it and uses it for his evil ends. Today was no different...



At first I thought this was the same permanent marker he drew on the couch with today but luckily it was some Halloween makeup he found in our amazing junk drawer.



Good thing you are dang cute!

Some days are yellow...

Some days I love homeschooling. Today is one of those days. It's so cold out and the wind is whipping by but it's bright inside because all of the light is reflecting off the snow and through our windows. And the kids are happy and the things we're studying are interesting. I don't know why some days are just great. I won't tell you about the others when I'm pushing and shoving just to get some work done...

An unmended heart...

Ever since Asher was born and I tied my tubes I have found myself mourning again. Back when we lost that baby I told myself that that baby was coming back. That she was still going to join our family and that it was just a timing issue - that this body wasn't right for her. I didn't mourn a death but a postponement. But that doesn't mean I didn't go through an immense amount of pain but instead it softened the blow for me to think of it that way. In fact, one evening when I was putting Elijah to bed he asked me in his innocent 5 year old voice, "Did my sister die?" and I was overwhelmed with emotion and said, "Oh no, she's coming back, that body just didn't work for her." And then I got pregnant and hoped it was my daughter trying again but it wasn't. And I was glad to have Peter so I put the thought out of my head. And then I got pregnant again and I was too busy to think about the one we lost, yet I was sure that this was a girl. And then it was Asher. And during my c-section I had my tubes tied. I knew it was the right thing to do and I still do but it's meaning was not lost on me. It meant that the daughter I thought I hadn't lost, I had. It means the body of the baby I had and didn't bury was her body. It means the little child I held for a short time but didn't name was only given to me for that short time. At least in this life.

And all of that has come upon me again. Not all of the time - but in the quiet times. When I'm driving alone in the car, or sitting in church, or falling asleep. And I don't know what to do with that or if there is any need to even wonder. I think I would do it differently if I could. Recently I stumbled upon a friend's friend's blog and she was posting about the loss of her child - two weeks older than the one I lost. And she had portraits taken of her son, and her parents came to the hospital and held him. And they had a memorial service and buried his tiny body. And it hit me, "I didn't do that - I just let the hospital take her body and dispose of it like it was some useless organ or something." And she had no love of grandparent. And she had no name. And she still doesn't.

It's strange to be going through this now - harder because of the time between me and the loss. Loss is a strange teacher. It deepens your ability to have compassion but it also confuses you and twists something deep inside into a shape you have no name for. And it's not some clear cut relationship - and it's not there all the time. It's shapeless and nameless but it exists.

And when people ask if I have all boys I answer yes but I also have a tiny thought inside of me that says, "I don't know." Because I don't know. I don't know if that tiny spirit belongs to me. I don't know if she will be there waiting for me when I pass from this life to the next. I don't know if I have a daughter. And I don't know if I'm disrespecting a daughter just by wondering.

When I was pregnant with that baby I felt her move very early on. I started to feel her about 14 weeks. And ever time I felt her move I was overwhelmed with love. I felt so much love for that child. It was like I had this sweet secret around me and filling me with happiness all the time. Looking back I wonder if that wasn't her spirit staying close by me. If that was our special time together. I gave several silent prayers of gratitude to my Father in Heaven for giving me the gift of this child. And so when she died I felt tricked. I had given my heart to this child. We had loved and then she was taken. He knew how much I loved her and how grateful I was for her and yet he took her away. And I was hurt, I felt betrayed. And so I decided it just wasn't her time. And now I find myself here.

It's not that I don't have an immense amount of gratitude for my healthy boys. I love them with all my heart. I just wonder if I have a daughter that my heart needs to acknowledge. If I have a name to give.

Sick babies are sad but oh so sweet.

Sick babies are content just to rest their warm cheeks against their mom's breast and nothing is better than that. Get better soon, Asher!

There Was a Child Went Forth by Walt Whitman

There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.




The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and red
clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird,
And the Third-month lambs and the sow's pink-faint litter, and the
mare's foal and the cow's calf,
And the noisy brood of the barnyard or by the mire of the pond-side,
And the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there, and the
beautiful curious liquid,
And the water-plants with their graceful flat heads, all became part of him.



The field-sprouts of Fourth-month and Fifth-month became part of him,
Winter-grain sprouts and those of the light-yellow corn, and the
esculent roots of the garden,



And the apple-trees cover'd with blossoms and the fruit afterward,
and wood-berries, and the commonest weeds by the road,
And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the
tavern whence he had lately risen,
And the schoolmistress that pass'd on her way to the school,
And the friendly boys that pass'd, and the quarrelsome boys,
And the tidy and fresh-cheek'd girls, and the barefoot negro boy and girl,
And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.



His own parents, he that had father'd him and she that had conceiv'd
him in her womb and birth'd him,
They gave this child more of themselves than that,
They gave him afterward every day, they became part of him.



The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the supper-table,
The mother with mild words, clean her cap and gown, a wholesome
odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by,
The father, strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, anger'd, unjust,
The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty lure,
The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture, the
yearning and swelling heart,
Affection that will not be gainsay'd, the sense of what is real, the
thought if after all it should prove unreal,
The doubts of day-time and the doubts of night-time, the curious
whether and how,
Whether that which appears so is so, or is it all flashes and specks?
Men and women crowding fast in the streets, if they are not flashes
and specks what are they?



The streets themselves and the facades of houses, and goods in the windows,
Vehicles, teams, the heavy-plank'd wharves, the huge crossing at
the ferries,
The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset, the river between,
Shadows, aureola and mist, the light falling on roofs and gables of
white or brown two miles off,
The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide, the little
boat slack-tow'd astern,
The hurrying tumbling waves, quick-broken crests, slapping,
The strata of color'd clouds, the long bar of maroon-tint away
solitary by itself, the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon's edge, the flying sea-crow, the fragrance of salt marsh
and shore mud,
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who
now goes, and will always go forth every day.



p.s. Peter did his hair with lotion again - thus the psuedo comb-over...

Chandelier before and after

Here's the before:



And the after:



I rewired it all by myself. I am obviously looking for a pat on the back - I do feel pretty proud of myself.

Doesn't it look purty?

My babies

This afternoon Peter let me know he wanted to hold Asher so we sat him down on the couch and put Asher on his lap. And he was so gentle and sweet and they sat there together and it melted my heart. Asher will be 6 months this week and on the first of November Peter will be 18 months. Honestly, I love having them this close together - most moments at least! ;)