Just a reminder to all of those interested in scheduling sessions…  with April showers comes the start of my busy season. What little remains of March is mostly booked up except for a few weekday openings. April weekends are almost completely booked up, although I do still have good availbility for weekday sessions and particularly newborns due in April. May and June are now starting to book as well.

All of this is simply to say that if you are looking to do a session in the near future, and particularly if you are trying to hit a specific milestone, please contact me as soon as possible for availability and to secure your date.

And on a more fun note, a quick picture from my recent camping expedition with my husband and sons:

Camping overnight with an almost-3-year-old and a 4-year-old is, well, interesting. But we survived. Bug bites and all

Four years ago Kevin and I walked into the hospital at 6:00 on a Tuesday morning in late November to get my water broken. We were nervous. Excited. Not sure what to expect. I was already pretty far progressed so my doctor thought my labor would come on pretty fast. My baby had other ideas. I can’t complain though. It was a pretty easy 11 hours of labor. And then with one final push the doctor pulled my baby out into the world, held my baby up and announced, “It’s a boy!”

I’m not going to lie to you. My baby was a red squalling ball of icky gooey-ness. But it was still love at first sight. And when we were released from the hospital Thanksgiving morning, I was indeed very thankful.

We’ve been through a lot together, he and I. Colic. Chronic ear infections. Tubes. Sleepless nights. The trials and tribulations of breastfeeding. And I wouldn’t change a moment of it. He can drive me crazy one moment and then melt my heart the next. He’s my whiner. And my cuddler. My people pleaser. And my daredevil. His smile can light up a room and his giggles are contagious.

I can hardly believe that he’s four already. I look at this image and I feel like I can already see the man that he’ll someday become. And I’m not ready for that yet. So please my sweet boy, just stay little for a little while longer. For mommy. Okay, buddy?

I love you Dylan.

Are you ready? Because this “secret” is hardly a secret to anyone who has had a child/family photo session. Or to any photographer.

The secret is that they almost never go as quickly or as smoothly as you hope they will. Almost every session there’s a snag. Maybe the kids are fussy or tired. Maybe they’re being silly. Maybe they’re just a little rambunctious and excited. No matter what the reason, the end result is that they’re typically not doing what you want them to – sitting still and smiling at the camera!

As the session progresses, and despite my reassurances, I can see Mom and Dad getting a little frazzled. A little frustrated. And inevitably someone says, “You must have the patience of a saint.”

So I’ll let you in on another secret:

I do.

With other people’s kids.  You see, I can completely empathize with Mom and Dad. Because I have two uncooperative children of my own. And I assure you, when you think that your children must be the most difficult kids I’ve ever photographed, I can honestly tell you that they’re not.  Because mine already have that title sewn up and in the bag.

Every year I’m painfully reminded of just how hard it is to be the parent and try to bribe, cajole, trick and threaten your child into compliance when I attempt our own holiday photos. And every year I end up frazzled, frustrated, exhausted, dejected, discouraged and ready to sell my children to the first band of traveling gypsies that happen to cross our path.

I’m kidding about that last part of course.

I wouldn’t do that to the gypsies.

We’re making attempt number three at our family photo session tomorrow if the weather cooperates. Yes, I said THREE attempts to get holiday pictures of our family. To explain why three sessions are necessary, I’ll simply offer up to you Exhibit A from Attempt #2 :

Yup, that would make my husband and I the only ones looking at the camera. Dylan is apparently quite taken with the grass. And Logan is fussing and mashing his head into my face. Fun times.

But you know what? It’s my family. And it’s pretty true to life. And it makes me smile. So maybe it’s not a complete failure…

My guys, ready for the big night last night! Dylan was sooooo excited to finally wear his dragon costume after days of asking me if it was time yet. Logan on the other hand quickly acquired the title of The Cranky Cowboy.

just because I love my boys – all three of them.

My son and his pink beetle powerwheel. ‘Nuff said!

Okay, not really. But things do seem to have gotten a lot more country-ish since we moved to our new house on much-less-than-a-green-acre. Every night my boys delight in the frogs and toads that hop onto our front porch. (Dylan thinks the frogs are the “babies” and the toads are the “mommies” and “daddies.” It’s so darn cute that I haven’t corrected him yet.) And today we found a new visitor…

Isn’t he cute? The boys were enthralled. Until he started moving around. Then Logan was petrified. I’m not sure what he thought an itty-bitty-slow-as-molasses turtle  was going to do to him, but  apparently it was bad. Very, very bad.  Maybe it’s a ninja turtle.

I guess it’s just luck that I happened to take some snaps of the boys just the other morning- perfect for a “Mine on Monday” post!

Now I can’t post these images without a little bit of background. This “session” was a spur of the moment thing Friday morning. The boys were still in their pajamas and I noticed how nice the light coming through my bedroom window looked. So I quickly threw our very wrinkled white comforter on the floor and bribed my boys with cookies to lay down on it. The bribing worked wonderfully with Dylan, who at 3.5 definitely thinks laying on a blanket for a couple minutes is worth the reward of a few cookies. Logan on the other hand… not so much. He just wanted the cookies. And wanted them NOW. Forget the blanket.

I started out this little endeavor with the intention of getting one wonderful and classic black and white shot of my boys together. That idea quickly flew out the window! The minute I had those two boys on the blanket they thought it was time for some sumo-style wrestling. Definitely not the serene, soulful image of brotherly love that I had envisioned. But perhaps something even better. A series of my boys just being boys. Being themselves. Candid. Silly. Laughing. Mugging for the camera. Sometimes serious. And playing together.  I love them.

What day is it anyway? Tuesday? Wednesday? I’m not sure anymore.

Anyway, a number of my photographer friends have recently started doing “Mine on Monday” blog posts as a way to routinely share their children and families on their blog. I loved the idea the first moment I saw it. In fact, I loved it so much that I immediately added it my list of “weekly blog posts I should do to be a more interesting blogger but that I know I’ll never get to.” Yup, it landed right above “Ten on Tuesday” and below “What to Wear Wednesday” on my list of things I should do, but will never keep up with. At least I know myself well, right?

But just because I know I’ll never get to it on a weekly basis, or probably ever on a Monday, doesn’t mean I can’t at least try once in a while. So with that in mind, here’s my “Mine on Whatever Day It Is Now” post:

Exhibit One: This is what happens when you put a cranky, overtired toddler in time-out. Poor baby!

Exhibit Two: Proof that it doesn’t always mean bad things when your child is quiet. (Just almost always.)

Almost every morning when Dylan wakes up, he trots into our room and quietly slips into bed beside me. Some mornings he just lays there silently, letting me have a few extra minutes of sleep. Some mornings he actually falls back to sleep for a little while. This morning was one of those mornings that he dozed off. I woke up to find him curled up beside me and I watched how the window light lit up his sleepy, peaceful little boy face. And I was stuck by how long and beautiful his eyelashes are.

Why is it that little boys always seem to be the ones with fantastic lashes anyway?