Harper Joy | Nashville Newborn Photography

"Ohh, and when the love spills over
And music fills the night
And when you can't contain your joy inside
Then dance for Jesus."
Chris Rice - Untitled Hymn

I love pictures of babies in the first week of life (it's just such a tiny, fast, final stage) but I don't know if it gets much cuter than the "chub up" part. Miss Harper is the sixth daughter of dear friends. I think it's a little bit of magic to have half-a-dozen little girls. I met the family after their third, Alivia, passed away and I've been so in love with them ever since. Not everyone has to face the "hell" parts of life, but those who do often seem to have a special 'substance' to them. Each one of the kids and both parents have such strong, distinct and lovable personalities. I can't wait to see their family evolve over the years. I'm especially excited for the mom of this brood and her new instagram feed and online shop, Vintage Farmhouse Interiors. She has incredible taste and makes such a warm, happy home! I love love you all! Thanks for letting me squish your newest baby, and for all the bowls of soup and slices of bread. You are favorites forever.

AJ's Birth Story | Maryland Birth Photography

"I CAN SEE A LOT OF LIFE IN YOU,

I CAN SEE A LOT OF BRIGHT IN YOU."

sufjan stevens

Ever since I got texts, a few weeks apart, that these two best friends were pregnant, I planned the following collage.  Two mamas, then two mamas and the first baby born, and then two mamas with the second baby born.  2, 2 + 1 = 3, 3 + 1 = 4.  In the picture of the four of them I wanted to have the babies in matching outfits.  But these pictures go 2, 3...3.  3 + 1 = 3.  No, that's not right.  But that's the point: it's wrong.  This place we breathe is wrong; death is wrong.  Families should never be pulled apart, tears should never fall.

"Yes, weep and grieve until the Spirit is poured down on us from above 
and the badlands desert grows crops, becoming fertile fields and forests. 
Justice will move into the desert.  

Right will build a home in the fertile field. 

And where there is Right, there will be Peace.  

And the promise of Right: joyous lives and endless trust. 
My people will live in a peaceful houses, in quiet gardens.  
You will enjoy a blessed life, planting well-watered fields and gardens."
Isaiah 32:15 The Message

"I CAN SEE A BED AND MAKE IT, TOO.

I CAN SEE A FIRESIDE TURN BLUE."

Soon and very soon even the sniffles and empty arms will be muffled and filled.  Until then, we have the shade of some sturdy, broad redwoods, covering us and giving us cool rest.  Sometimes Justice moves in the crook of your elbow -- "... loosing the pangs of death, giving back life, because it was not possible for him to be held down by the grave."  Life triumphs once again, little battles in this Earth War (spoiler alert: Life wins).  When a fertile field is a fertile woman, and a quiet garden is a 12x20 birth room at Shady Grove Hospital (where a Baby Fruit was ripe), you only look forward to the destruction of the badlands evermore.  Right will build a home, and no child shall be missing.

The look of compassion and care in one best friend to the other.  An unruly little tongue.  Laughter in between contractions.  Kisses on the head from a sensitive midwife.  The first push.  Grown adults weeping together.  Sleepy peepers (coming into this world is hard work, you know).  Labor being over.   Fat arms.  Being known.   A very fast labor (less than an hour after checking into the hospital we met a little boy).  Hospital ice chips.  Grandparents in the lobby.  Sharing our very selves.

"You will cry, but your grief will turn to joy.

A woman giving birth to a child has pain;

 but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that her child is here.

So with you: Now is your time of grief, 

but I will see you again and you will rejoice, 

and no one will take away your joy."

I'm grateful for all the things Baby AJ is to me, but especially how he gives me the gift of Safe Joy.  I see and hold him, think of him throughout the day, and clearly see his place in this story.  He has brought us so much happiness.  He's brought with him a bundle of heaven, a gift from Right.

(Becca: you are beyond strong and the definition of kindred love.  AJ has no idea what lot in life he got dealt by being able to be raised and loved by you.  I can see a lot of life in you.)

Introducing, Our Son, Rowdy

crickets calling wing to wing 
someday baby you will sing
tanya goodman - someday baby

(ALL picture credit to our "life" photographer, Lydia Jane.  

I can't wait to be able to do the same for you someday, friend, so you'll know how much of a blessing aaaaalll these pictures are to us.)

On June 14, just minutes after ten o'clock in the evening, Caleb and I met and held and looked at our son in person - and he looked at us back.   He was flawless - rosy pink, pudgy, smooth and snuggly.  Our string bean weighed seven pounds, twelve ounces and was almost twenty-two inches long.  My mom says he's the strongest baby she's ever seen.  His hands and feet are huge.  We love his long spindly fingers and knobby knees.  Heck, we love everything about him.



The little "tornado" hair swirl on the back of his head.
The fact that when he was born he didn't have a double chin,
but the night after we came home from the hospital he did.
The weird cross-eyed kissy-lip face he makes when he seems confused.
The sole "WAH." he'll blurt out when he's tired but wants attention. Not a string of fussing - just dozing in and out of awakeness with a random "WAH!" It's hilarious.
The way his little knuckles leave marks in our skin when we hold him still for an hour.
The power kicks and almost-roll-overs (seriously!) and dreamy smiles every time he sleeps.
The eye-contact and how he knows my voice.
The voice daddy makes only for Rowdy.
The way time runs together in finger-paint-ease; hours float together and somehow it's been a week?  Already?
The way everyone - everyone - responds to his presence.  Our families, our friends, strangers at Chick-fil-a and Target, the doctor and nurses.  Everywhere we go people smile and chat and come out of their shells.  He brings out kindness and love.
The idea that God loves us as naturally, easily, eagerly and tenderly as we love Rowdy.  And then some.  We're the King's babies and I love getting to experience the parent-side of this love.  It makes me tear up when I think about God - He really, really does love me.  Wow.

ROWDY

spirited and enthusiastic; full of liveliness, vigor, or courage 

At our almost-10-week appointment, we were able to watch Rowdy on the sonogram screen for a few minutes.  He was the size of a green grape, and we obviously didn't know he was a "he" yet.  His head was still larger than the rest of his body.  We heard his heart pumping away, steady like a Native American drum beat.  His arms, about as long as two grains of rice, were up along his face, with his fists resting next to the place his ears would be.  Initially he was completely still, but as the technician moved the wand and "prodded" him, he stirred.  His big head slowly rocked side to side and his arms batted across the screen.  When the tech didn't stop, he began furiously kicking his legs and swimming "away."  His arms pumped harder and he spun himself over so we could see his back.  I cried, Caleb cheered him on and the tech laughed: "Wow!  What a lively little guy you have!"  He was so human and animated and... tiny!... and ours.

At our 20-week appointment, when we found out Rowdy was a dude, he started out asleep and laying perfectly still.  But after a few minutes he began to karate-jab the doppler.  One HARD kick/punch, right in the center of the wand.  Once it was hard enough to cause the tech's hand to lift up into the air!  He didn't "kick kick kick kick."  No, it was a single, aimed, full-force kick followed by another minutes later.  I cried again.  As the tech continued, he took matters into his own hands and rolled over, made himself into a "tent" with his butt pointed up, and was on lock-down so we could't "get in" and see.  He wouldNOT budge.  I know he was awake.  I know it.  Feisty muffin.

The single-punch "get off of me!" moves only continued into the pregnancy.  The midwives always commented on how especially strong and vigorous he was.   So when we came across the name "Rowdy" and read what it meant, it just seemed to fit our boy.  We had a different name we were 99% sure we were using (and we even called him it before he was born!) and we had two other "contenders."  But once we had him in our arms, the other names just weren't "him."  They weren't our spirited, animated, determined, enthusiastic, sandy, rowdy Rowdy.

Baby, we are praying that you will indeed be a spirited person, truly full of courage.  Brimming with life!  Life is a super great gift, and we want you to enjoy it and the One who gave it with all your heart.  There is so much good to be savored, even when the hard is raging.  

"God gives life and possessions, and the ability to enjoy them... 

and be to happy in our toil —this is a gift of God...

God keeps them occupied with gladness of heart."

ecclesiastes 5:18/20

NEIL

passionate champion; victorious 

"You belong to God, my dear children. You have already won a victory..."

Caleb and I both look back on our walks with God and our lives in Him and agree that we didn't understand the entirety of the gospel for far too long.  I used to think "the cross" was "the gospel."  When asked I could easily say "Jesus died for my sins!" (using the five fingers on my hand for each word).  The Gospel was the story of God dying for His people and thereby saving them from the wrath they deserved - all because of Love.  

What we failed to cherish in our hearts, minds and souls was that this was only a part of the gospel.  It's a beautiful, intense, necessary, moving, real part of the gospel of grace.  But it isn't the whole story.  It's not all of the good news.  The rest of the good news is that now that we are saved, we get, we are entitled to, we are heirs of the greatest gifts.  The rest of the story is that Jesus didn't just die, but He rose.  He rose from hell and beat death.  Death lost.  He won.  If the gospel was "the story of the cross" we would miss out on the benefits of the empty grave and the filled throne.  Because He not only lived, and not only died, and not only lived again, but He returned Home, with eternal scars in His palms, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED, and entered the Holy Places with our adoption papers, ready to intercede on our behalf forever.  We aren't waiting to find out what the final score will be, we are waiting for the awards ceremony.  We know who won.  We know what the prize is.  We're now celebrating the victory of the grace, unshackled and unashamed, never to be bound by sin or death or fears or flesh or Satan or Hell or powers or hate or evil again. We're celebrating now.  "You have already won.  You belong... now."

"Are you also confused? Is our champion helpless to save us? 

You are right here among us, Lord, and we are known as your people!” 

"...keeping our eyes on Jesus, the Champion who initiates and perfects our faith.

 Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. 

Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne. "

"Christ is risen from the dead 

Trampling over death by death 

Come awake, come awake!"

We happily gave our son the middle name "Neil" in honor of his great-grandfather's brother, Neil Morris and his son Neil Morris Jr., his grandfather, Terry Neil Morris, and his father, Caleb Neil Morris.  No matter what the name meant, we would have wanted to carry this tradition on for the fourth generation.  But wow.  What a perfect definition.   The error in thinking of the gospel "only" as the cross displayed itself in manic obsession with personal obedience, fear and shame when we made mistakes, disappointment with ourselves over and over as we failed time and again, harsh and stony judgement of those who lived in ways we disapproved of, robotic adherence to the rules, and hunger for the praise and approval of the Christian people we respected.   We "so quickly deserted the one who called us to live in the grace of Christ and turned to a different gospel— which is really no gospel at all."

Baby, we are praying and planning and so looking forward to raising you in the triumphant, sweet news we hold so dear.  We can't wait to tell you the stories of the generations that have gone before you - your family tree is incredible.  How you even exist is incredible.  We can't wait to tell you all the lessons we have learned from our parents and grandparents.  We want to live out life with you as as happy, free, rejoicing people, and we want you to join our singing.  That's our greatest prayer, Rowdy Boy.

Rowdy, being yours has been really nothing but wonderful.  Wonder upon wonder.  And just when we think we couldn't love you more, you do something (like hiccup) and our hearts somehow have room for just a little more love.  We're so happy you're here.

"Oh well I look at you and say

'It's the happiest that I've ever been'

And I'll say I no longer feel I have to be James Dean

And she'll say 'Yah well I feel all pretty happy, too'

And I'm always pretty happy when I'm just kicking back with you."

Five Years Time - Noah and The Whale

Shelby Leigh + Brian + The Three Girls | Newborn + Family Portraits

"is there any way that I can tell you how my life has changed?  any way at all to let you know what sweetness you have given me?" elise mckenna - somewhere in time Not many hours after Esme Rose snuggled into her first days of "outside" life, this beautiful family and I met up again for one more story time.   We started back in December, with simple portraits of a mama-and-dada-to-be.    Within weeks, we were huddled together in a bathroom, with a couple more daughters and supporters, watching Shelby and pleading to Esme with our hearts - "Come on, sweet girl.  Come out!  We're waiting for you!".   This brings us to early spring and a family of five.

Inside the white picket fence, and red front door, up the wooden stairs, past the dusty rose and khaki nursery, on a white bright bed was a crew full of sunshine.





The ladies of the house are, well, stunning.  Each and every one of them.

And papa is a brave soul ;)

The delight I had left behind that cold night was just as complete when I came back in the daylight.  The big sisters were still intrigued and comfortable.  The whole house attracts itself to mama and baby.  They all love to be near.

Esme had quite the stare-down!  It's breathtaking!









Soon the little cupcake won't be eating every hour or two.  Soon she will know her sister's names.  Soon she will jump on dad, and break mugs, and fill up a little purse with goodies, and count to eleventeen and beyond.  Soon she will clap for herself.  Soon she will ask for what she wants with words.  Soon she will ask dad about his tattoos and if she can play with mom's hair and "are we there yeeeet?"  Soon she won't be a baby.  But today she's quite baby.  And absolutely incredible.  She is loved, and has been for some time now.  She is here and she is there's.




It's been honor and fun to be a part of this story; to record and tell something that can never be told again.  Esme Rose will never go back into her mother's belly or be delivered or be a few hours old ever, ever again.  And it really resonates in my heart the sweetness I've been able to join in on by photographing this entire, lovely family.  

Shelby Leigh + Brian + Their Baby | Birth Story

in these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will diewhere you invest your love, you invest your life
MUMFORD & SONS - AWAKE MY SOUL

Caleb and I drove down their street.  House after house, virtually the same in story.  Porch lights on, maybe a window or two bright, the yard dark - most of the house dark - cars in park out front.  It was 8:30 pm and the end of a middling workday, in the middle of a fussy winter.   The outside of the Metzger home was forgettably normal in the lines of homes.  But inside.  Inside the walls, where only a select few could see, there was a nativity scene.










Brian greeted me at the door - he was on his way to heat up a slice.  "Everyone is upstairs! Go on ahead!"  Shelby's laughter made me a little bummed.  "Man, she must not be very far along if she's giggling like that."  She waved and rocked on her bouncy ball.  I "scolded" her ;) "You sound way too cheerful for a lady who is in labor!"  "Oohhh, it's just because I'm not having a contraction right now! Hahah! You'll see!" She barely finished her sentence before she silently buried her head.  Her two daughters eased from the floor onto the bed.  They watched her strength.  And gave pats of honor and love when Shelby's moans were heaviest.   Shelby's mom told her what a wonderful job she was doing.






Aside from the occasional grunts and "ooooooooOOOOOOOO's!" and the midwives in matching t-shirts, the evening felt weirdly like a typical evening.  There wasn't hub-bub or eerie silence or beeping.  The tub was filling with water, Mumford & Sons was playing, leftovers were on the counter.  Instead of feeling like normal life had been frozen in time with the labor progressing, it felt like normal life was indeed happening.  And it was.  Together.  Eating pizza, making mom laugh, and having a baby.  It was weirdly unweird.









By 9:00 Shelby was in her own bathtub, in her own clothes, with her own family tipping water onto her working body.  If I could dream up an analogy, it reminded me of highschool soccer games in September: when I'd come off the field at halftime and open my water bottle - not to drink - to pour on my head.  Spill it all over.  Mom and Brian spilled and spilled.  Her body was working harder than a soccer athlete.  And her baby was ready to meet her life on the outside.













Shelby's midwives were so calm.  They were very hands-off, yet gently "in charge." The first laugh I heard from Shelby when I walked up the stairs happened to also be the last laugh.  It was almost like the baby knew "Alright, everyone is here now."  The hour and a half in the bathtub proved to be terrible and yet efficient, and also genuinely beautiful.  Labor is like war, this battle a mother (and father and "support team") wage for the prize of delivery itself; to win skin-to-skin and eye contact; to obtain a person in your arms and announce "Welcome! You are so loved!"  I'm not sure who the enemy is, but the battle is real and vicious.

Shelby's "breaks" in-between contractions were short and honestly still exhausting.  She would close her eyes and take a few deep breaths and then, a new wave of movement and pain would surround her.  She fought hard.  They all did.

In the final few minutes of the labor, Shelby fumbled out a weary "I can't.  I can't do this. She's not coming and I can't do this."  Brian held her hand tighter.  "Yes you can.  You are.  This is incredible.  You're doing it.  She's coming, baby.  You can do it.  It's almost over."

With new resolve, Shelby decided she was done.  She had been in consistent labor for over 24 hours, active labor for the last four, and transition for over an hour now.  It was time.  Little Girl, Mama said "Come!"









In as much time as it would take for me to walk to their mailbox and back, the family changed.  Esme Rose was in their arms, with her pudgy, formed arms, dark soft hair, and immediately kissable cheeks.


Their joy was full.  In the calming quiet of night, they celebrated like a town greeting the victorious soldiers!  Tears, hugs, emotional feasting!










To quote the profound Ash Parsons:

"The moments of pain and the moments of joy are not as far apart as we may think."  

Honestly, pain and joy seem to be two hands that are best when held.  One just isn't quite the same without the other.  Pain and Joy tell a story, a story we all know chapters of.  Some understand the story, and others have only heard the story.  Pain is rescued by the promise of Joy, and Joy is sweetened by the demands of Pain.  Pain and Joy tell the story of Esme Rose.


Happy First Day of Life, young lady.  You'll always know it, but someday when you look at these images, try to let the love of your family hug you even closer.  Your mama is a determined, smart lover.  Your dad is kind and good.  Your sisters are doting, bright and quick.  Your grandmother is loyal and lovely.  And together they worked for you, together they cried and piled onto a bed to fight over who you looked at first.   They studied every little wrinkle and roll.  All eyes and hearts were on you, amazed to just be in your presence.  And I think you'll be pleased to realize this love and devotion isn't rare; it's weirdly typical of your entire life.

What Little Behrs Know | One Year Portraits

    Little Behrs live with full-emotions.  Little Behrs don't know about self-control or fear of man or peer pressure.  They know about swinging, though, and they know swinging is really good. Little Behr's don't know about laundry or stains or shipping costs or coupon codes.  They do know about grass and outside and crawling wicked fast.
Little Behr's don't know about hiding emotions or keeping secrets.  They tell you everything they're feeling.  "I AM HAAAPPY!"


Little Behr's don't know about L-lenses or savings or business investments or faster shutter speeds.  But they do know about shiny, and they would like so much to touch what is shiny.

Little Behr's don't know about betrayal or broken promises or lies.  Little Behr's do know that dada and mamma never ever drop him when he's swinging. He always wants to do it again.



Little Behr's don't know about calories or The Food Pyramid or BMI's or organic.  Little Behr's do know about eating, though.  They love eating.  Eating is a joy to Little Behr's.  However, they still aren't sure if leaves are good for eating.  They'll have to decide later.

Little Behr's don't know about enemies or fake or disingenuous friends.  They do know that Other Bear's are perfect for sneak attack hugs.


Little Behr's don't know about depression, heart-break or hate.  They do know about being sad... and it is very sad when the doggie walks by and doesn't stop to say hello.

Little Behr's don't know about grammar, sentence structure, clever delivery or wit.  But they do know about funny, and that NO one is funnier than dada.

Little Behr's don't know about jail, police men or law.  But Little Behr's do know what "no" means, even if they pretend they don't.

Little Behr's don't know about comparison, self-conciousness, or not measuring up.  They do have big ears, and they drool, and their hair grows un-evenly.  And Little Behr's don't even know how handsome! And cute! And, just, beautiful! they are!  They don't even know.

Little Behr's don't know about politics, or swear words, or judgmental Christian's, or car accidents, or terrorists, or homework, or stealing, or eternity.  But Little Behr's do know that being alone in the night isn't as good as being held by mama.  Come on, Little Behr's aren't stupid.  They also know about teeth.  And teeth hurt a lot.  So don't tell me they don't get it.

Little Behr's don't know about productivity, to-do lists, failure, haters, bills or commutes.  Little Behr's DO know about walking, though.  Even though Little Behr's choose to fall over and crawl when they could walk all on their own.  Sometimes Little Behr's just aren't ready for the next step.  And that's okay... because Little Behr's won't get to crawl around forever.

Little Behr's don't know about a lot of things.  But Little Behr's know a lot more than me, sometimes.   They know about trust, living in the moment, not worrying about the future, smiling whenever, and the joy of almost everything - especially bath time.

Thanks for all you've taught me, Little Behr.  I miss seeing you everyday.  I miss hearing your "Oh wooow!" exclamations.  I miss watching you do and try new things every single morning.  But I love you, Little Behr.  Happy 12 Months of life and living.  Stay little as long as you can, okay? Love, Aunt Titi

Juliana Kate | Baby Portraits

A couple of years ago Alex + Lauren decided to hunker on down and be each other's always and one and only.   Just before two years of ooey-gooey-marriage-goodness ( ;) ), they found out that they were not just "man" and "wife" but "mama" and "daddy"!  Juliana Kate is now in their arms and in their home.
The first few days of Jules' life turned out to be quite scary.  Right away her breathing wasn't as strong as it should have been.  Baby One was whisked away to the NICU.  The next 48 hours included poor jaundice levels, a possible seizure and some - okay, maybe more - tears.   But now she is eight days old, fit as a fiddle, home and making their world sweeter with every passing hour.   While she was in the NICU Mama Lauren would come rub her cheeks and sing her pretty songs.  Even at this young age, she responds with pure delight when she hears her mother sing.  I didn't really believe Lauren when she told me she smiles a lot - especially during songs.  But, check it out for yourself!


We haven't even covered the beauty of this baby.  Eight days old and almost oddly flawless.  Not a wrinkle, pimple, rash, bump or funny new-baby "issue."  To be honest, I even think the little old man hound dog scrunches or zitty-fresh faces are super cute!  It's just part of being brand new!  But this little looker is made from porcelain.  I didn't edit a single thing from her face.  No blending or cloning or band-aiding.  And she's not even seven pounds.  Tiny, smooth and happy... gaaaah!



Alex and Lauren are dear with her.  He is a broad, dark, ex-hockey-playing, adventurous manly man.  She is sweet, tender, very careful and glowing.   They did everything as a team.  They both know her cries, one holds her head while the other lifts the shirts on, they know the "tricks" their little lady especially likes.



I just... I mean... right?






I love when babies make grumpy faces in their sleep.  I feel like that's my face when someone turns the light on in a dark room when I'm asleep.  I'm all "eeeeeeeh!" with my grump face ;)



Note to self: buy my daughters small white bows.  They're angelic.


Juliana was so much fun because she was SO alert.  She was looking around at all kinds of things!  She had my camera shutter to catch her attention, her mama calling her name, her dad walking around in the back-round... and she was very aware of all the "fuss."  She kept her eye on us... until, of course, that just got exhausting.


Welcome to your family and to this wild-giddy-yap thing called life.  We're so delighted that you're here and that God wanted to make you.  Your parents are super cool - they've prayed so much for you, and they are smitten with you.  I wish I had taken a video of them getting you ready for this pictures.  You probably would have laughed watching it someday... but then gotten a little teary, too.  They love you.  Oh!  And you have some crazy great aunts, uncles and cousins.  Yeah, you're gonna have a good life.


All my love and gentle squeezes! Muah!

Baby Autumn | Daily Life Portraits

"love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup."

danny's song - anne murray

For some reason, being a child in a big family prompts unusual family-planning questions.  As a little girl I was frequently asked "Do you like being in a big family?"  Well.  I liked being in my family.  And it was big!  So, yes!  I did like being in a big family.  "Do you want to have a big family someday?"  "Yes, I would!" (I wish I would have responded with "Do you like being in a small family?  Do you want to have a small family someday?" but I never did.) Sometimes people remarked that I might change my mind when I got older, or that they just wouldn't be cut out for that.   But over the last decade as I've heard and answered that question, the most common response has been:  "You must love children, huh?"  I was always a little confused by that question ("You mean, there are people who don't love children?") but I always answered my third "yes" of the dialogue.  [I have more to say about this paragraph, but that's not for right now.]
As I've gotten older, I've spent more time studying, researching and thinking about children than any other topic.  Whether it be scripture, TIME magazines, internet forums, conversations with friends (or strangers), various books or my own thoughts - I've had plenty to mull over.   I've watched adults interact with children in public and private settings.  I've watched their reactions to an annoying or angry child.  I've watched their responses to a pretty and "good" child.  My little radars shoot up when children are around.  I watch closely - the children themselves, and the people around them.
In all this time, I'm not sure if I've encountered a better sentence about my heart towards children, said by the author of Goodnight Moon, Margaret Wise Brown: “I don't think I'm essentially interested in children's books. I'm interested in writing, and in pictures. I'm interested in people and in children because they are people.”  
In my house, and therefore in my world, children were people.  I don't mean that anyone thinks infants and toddlers are dogs, or matter, or subhumans.  I know we all "know" they are people, but, even subconsciously, many put them in a different category.  "Children are so difficult!"  "Children are so funny!" "Children are a lot of work!" "Children are expensive!"  Well, yes.  But people are difficult, and funny, and work, and expensive.  Some people I enjoy very much, others kind of get on my nerves - that includes newborns to the very elderly.  But no matter what they're like, or much effort it takes, I, with all my heart, believe that everyone should love children.  Because I believe that everyone should love people.  
Obviously there are a variety of personalities and "strengths" that sometimes do better with different kinds of people ;)  I honestly am not the best with kids.  I love being around them, but I think my kid-skills were so much stronger when I was 17 and 18.  Part of how I know this is because of my little sisters.  Shannon and Lauren are nine and eleven years old and could probably care for a 6-month old completely on their own for 24 hours.  And they have lived a life without infant siblings.  They are so good with little people.  
For two days we've watched a girl named Autumn.  It's been fascinating to see my family made up of elementary school children, pre-teens, college students and 50-somethings, transform for this little person.  Everyone wants a turn to hold her, to feed her, to dress her, to play with her.  Even the boys.  I don't think she's been put down since she's arrived.  We all squeal at her funny faces, re-tell stories about "what Autumn did today," work hard to keep her safe and happy.  She has brought joy to our home - and mess, and noise, and smells, and "work," I guess.  But, who cares about that?!  She's an incredible person.  And she has made our daily life sweeter and better.   
She's helped me love my sisters more - they honestly are capable beyond their years.  She's helped me love my brothers more - they have such a doofy soft side that she brought out.  She's helped me love my parents more - mom always knows what to do with her!  She's so experienced and gentle.  Dad is so funny with his "baby voices" and quirky insights.  "She is 98% eye-ball.  This isn't a baby, it's a life support system for two eyes!"  She's helped me love my husband more - he was so patient when she cried at 3:00 am last night, and so sweet as he got ready for work as quiet as possible so she wouldn't wake up.  
You are loved, little A!  Come back and visit us soon.  You're one of our favorite people!


Her Happy Food Dance ;)












She was trying to "share" her sweet potatoes with Kevin.  Kind soul ;)

Enjoy People | Entering the World | Edith Grace

"it was a year or so after the wedding,
that dad confided to mother his secret conviction:
that all of their children would be girls."
cheaper by the dozen | frank + ernestine gilbreth

Baby Sister has felt very earned.  Her mama, Janet, and her "aunts" and "uncles" and grandma and daddy and even older sister waited and worked very hard for her.  Bedrest, contractions, meals, early labor, babysitting, late nights, cleaning, contractions, bedrest, midwife appointments, hospital trips, hospital returns, and trips that were coming dangerously close to Baby Sister's birthday kept us all on our toes and pinkies.


But on March 31 at 2:09 am (barely an hour and a half after checking into the hospital) Baby Sister was welcomed to this big, beautiful world by her thrilled and doting parents, excited and heroic Aunt Becca, and kind and nurturing Aunt Jenne.

A few hours later I dropped in to meet the newest (and nameless) girl in my world.  When I arrived she was having some emotions. Janet told me that this little girl knows who her mommy is, and knows when she wants mommy.  

Her squawks lessened and she was groggy.

She made eye contact with her mom.

Pathetic whimpers trembled out. "Roooo. Roo. Ree. Roooo." She had to tell mom some pretty sad things, I think.

Janet loved and snuggled and talked to and laughed at Baby Sister.

"She loves her hands! What a wonderful self-soother I have!" Jan noted.  This little person smacked and slobbered on her knuckles like a dog with it's tennis ball. 

But then the big bad doctor came and peeled her away from mommy.  Her little face in the baby bed sawed my heart in three.  She literally rolled her head over towards me and put her fists up on the glass and... just looked so sad!

Knuckles to the rescue once more!

(I call her PopTart because of her nose.  It pops!)

It's a very, very bad situation being a baby girl ;)

OooOOh. OH. Those fat soft arm folds!

So many emotions. So many emotionals. Guess who was ready for mom time?

Janet's sense of humor is one of her best qualities.  Baby Sister grunted and gnawed on her shirt and it totally tickled Jan.

Flakes and teeny white nose bumps and scrunchy fingers.

"Giiiiive meeee my haaaands."

Omononommnom nom.

Shortly we received word that Grandma (G-ma) and Big Sister, Audrey, were on their way!

Audrey is an unnaturally bright child (I'm not her mother, I can say that!) and she has been very excited about meeting her sister.  We all have been quite curious to how she'd react to Jan's belly being gone and a baby being here.  Though Audrey is constantly around babies, we wonder how much she "gets" that this one is hers. 

Meanwhile PopTart was feeling much calmer.  Her heart was soothed.

And her hands were clasped. 

Jan looked at her little face and practiced names on her.  It's a very important decision to make!

And then we heard a high-pitched voice down the hall.

I love Audrey's faces.

Audrey seemed confused.  Not upset, not bored, not thrilled, but very thoughtful.  She watched every move Baby Sister and Mommy made.

"Do you want to hold your sister, Audrey?"This one makes me cry.  When they handed A her sister she immediately looked straight into Janet's eyes - needing some reassurance and affirmation. "This is your sister! She's our baby! Can you say hi to her?"Audrey thoughtfully looked at PopTart. PopTart gnawed those knuckles.(fuuuuunnny!)Once G-ma had Baby Sister, Audrey seemed less confused.  And rather excited!

As I was heading out the door I turned around and saw this scene. Audrey locked on Baby Sister.

Audrey whispered to her mama "That baby sister?"

Mama confirmed "Yes, that's Baby Sister!"

Audrey snuggled up. "Oh, she's so cute."

You are so cute, Edith Grace Remsnyder.  And loved by all shapes and sizes, near and far.  You are wanted, treasured and wonderful to us.

Welcome to your life! Hang on tight :D

"...when a mother has delivered a baby, 
she no longer remembers the anguish, 
for joy that a human being has been born into the world."
john 16:21

Six Weeks of Behr {Baby Photography + Personal}

This is the main man on campus, Behr.  He's large and in charge.  Known as BehrBehr, Behrly, Barely There, Son, Monk, Chipmunk and Little Dre.  He attracts fans in droves.  He is a big deal around here.  So popular.

Though we all fight for his heart, love and snuggles, no one can replace his favorite friend, his best friend: the bedroom ceiling fan.As Bedroom Fan dances, Behr waves hello! "Hey! Hey you! I like you a loooot.  A lot a lot!"  He coos, he  reaches, he kicks... ... he sneezes.
Thaaaat's embarrassing.  Don't worry Behr Man, you were just excited and got a little worked up.  It happens to the best of us.  Bedroom Fan will understand.  "But where did Bedroom Fan go?  I'm just a noisy, childish weight in this friendship.  And I party-fouled all over the place.  Humiliating."Look! Behrly...See?  Bedroom Fan is back!  Waving again! Bedroom Fan does think you are cool after all!  You have not been forsaken, you have not been left by Bedroom Fan.  Look up! Lift your eyes!A man and his Fan, it's a beautiful thing.  The end.
On a more gushy note, I love all of Behr's little self.  From his birthmark on his finger, to his Cabbage-Patch-doll arms, to his very strong legs, his fantastically shaped mouth, his stubby perfect nose, his neck rolls, his side rolls, his thigh rolls, and that big basin of a baby belly - I love it all.  I miss him in the morning before he is "up" and I'm addicted to seeing his new faces and skills throughout the day.

Hey you.
You are very cute.  And very loved.  And so silly.  And you probably will never love me as much as I love you (or as much as you love Bedroom Fan) but you make me smile a lot, so we'll keep you around.

Lightfoot Triplets | Baby Photography

"you better be prepared to  be surprised."sondre lerche | to be surprised
I don't care who you are: at some point in your life you've thought about what it would be like to have a baby.  Even if it was only for a split second.  Even if it was in disgust thinking "That is just WAY too much work.  I'm never having children."  Maybe your first thought went to the lifestyle and body changes: not having freedom to go out or travel, gaining weight and stretchmarks - you get the picture ;)
But for many people (particularly women) there is a natural, nurturing, full part of your heart that can't help but think fondly of that day when you have your own child.  Sometimes it seems bizarre to hold another person's baby, but what if this was mine? What does it feel like to have a person inside you?  Is it as magical as some women claim?  Is it as awful as other women claim?  Is it a healthy dose of wonderful and terrible?  Will my first baby be a boy or girl?  Will the child look like me?  Will he be a good baby? Will I be a sleep-hungry, smelly monster?  Will I spend hours staring at the baby counting it's ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes?  
Maybe that is just me.  I do have an extraordinary love for children, particularly babies.  But I'll tell you one thing:  I've NEVER imagined counting 60 toes and fingers after my first pregnancy.  Nope.  It hadn't crossed my mind.  I'm told that giving birth to triplets hadn't crossed the mind of my smart, sweet and glowing winter 2010 bride, either.  She was s.h.o.c.k.e.d.  SHOCKED.  How could you not be?  SIXTY FINGERS AND TOES INSIDE YOU.  Who prepares for that?  Jennifer and David, though completely surprised, have been equally thrilled.  They love all those fingers and toes.By winter 2011 this little lady and her kind man were holding Makenna, Noah and Emma, their firstborns. With an army of support, love, generosity, bottles, arms and adrenaline, these three siblings were welcomed into a Florida town.  Hundreds of friends have prayed, waited, given and helped mom and dad take care of their little lives.  And kiss all their toes. I've never seen baby triplets in person before.  It was a very, very odd feeling.  One baby gives me so many feelings and wonders in my heart.  But three was just... overwhelming and beautiful. Their lives, though in every way a surprise to this world, were planned long before this world had a chance to be surprised.  Their lives, like every life, entered this stage right on cue.  God wanted them, and He wanted them now, and He wanted Jennifer and David to raise them.  Not Katie and Bill.  Not Sue and Todd.  But Jennifer and David.  He gave these three to them specifically. And they are spectacular.

From their rosebud lips, to Noah's "hound dog" eyes, to their pink little bodies, to their double chins, smooth bald heads, grunts and kicks and rounded bellies they are beautiful and miraculous and "planned."  "As I have planned, so it shall be."  Spending just over an hour with this little/big family gave me such a needed vision of God's ability, kindness and power over us.  It's actually unbelievable that three humans grew inside one human, and now they are here: screeching, looking, breathing, wriggling, eating, learning and functioning.  They have been joys to friends near and far, they have been blessings in their neediness, happinesses in their dependance.  They aren't exactly productive or "useful," but they are people and are loved so much.  They reminded me to love people in my life: the inconvient people, the "surprise!" people, the difficult people, the family-people (who are easily taken for granted), the unhelpful people, the sweet and innocent people.  They reminded me to look at some wrinkly toes and see God.  And to praise Him.  In reality all people can and should do that to me, but there was something about touching and seeing three infants that hit that lesson home.

On that chubby, roll-y, soft belly note, let's call this post a day :D

Audrey Turns Two {Child Photography}

'cause you've got personality!

walk with personality, talk with personality!

smile with personality, charm with personality!  
love with personality! 'cause you got a great big heart

lloyd price | personality

--

Meet Audrey.

24-months young, she tips the scales at barely 22 pounds.  And she likes to "go-go-go shoppiiing" and "go get stuff at Michael's" (the craft store), sing her ABC's to try to distract her mom from putting her down for a nap ("ELMOENOPEEE! DUBUE EX! WHY! ANZY!") and she always wants to help (help stir food on the stove, help my baby in my belly feel better [even though I don't have a baby in my belly], and help make your hair not be "eeeew! yuuucky!")This child is extraordinary; that is, she is "unusually great." She the daughter of close friends and she lives about 60 seconds from my house.  It's a sad day when there is no Audrey around.  It just doesn't feel quite right.  Everyone thinks their kid is smart and has an above-average personality, but this ain't my kid ;) And she IS so smart. And DOES have an above average personality.Just check out some of these faces:Accessories are the reason for the season in Audrey's world.  Shoes, jewelry, sparkles, undergarments, "mock-sins" (moccasins) are her girly-girl treasures.
These make me laugh. I picture her talking in Dug the Talking Dog from Up voice: "Ooooh shucks. Just shtop it. Seriously. Ooooh my."

We all love her. What a blessing.  What a joy.  What happiness put into our adult lives.  She cracks us up just by walking - because it's SO cuuuute! She snuggles up on your shoulders and dives in for a bear hug where she squeezes so tight it makes your soul just dissolve.Little Ham Chop.  What a goober.One of our favorite Audrey-isms is how she collects and hoards little things like coins, cranberries, candy, crayons. After she leaves we'll find little stashes hidden around where she left her loot.  Often she'll try to specifically put the coins in her pockets.  Then she'll stand up and, to her dismay, the money will come bounding out of her pants holes and she drop to all fours, scrambling to gather her change back up.  Oh it's precious.
"Eeeeew! Piggle! Eeeew!"Audrey spotted our daily visitor, Piggle the Squirrel. He's an obese rodent. And looks like a rat.

By the end there was yawning and "Hold you, Titi? Hold you?" and shivers, so we decided to be all done.  Who can resist a little girl with knots on her head and bows on her feet asking to go inside? Not I said the fly.

How fun it is to be a part of a little life.  She is so good for us all.Happy birthday sweet girl!