Nostalgic.

Lately, I have felt nostalgic for so many moments as they are happening or right before they happen. I'm nostalgic for little moments like wiping Henry's gunky eyes with a wet washcloth (he has blocked tear ducts) and waking up to "Hey, Mom!" being squealed in front of my face and watching Max as he stands on a shopping cart to reach the water fountain and driving with my husband with my feet on the dashboard and so many other small moments that are never accounted for or talked about much after they happen.

I guess I just like simplicity and creativity even more than I thought, because right now from where I'm sitting, nothing sounds better than a lazy afternoon with my babies and my husband with wind in my hair and a million different possibilities laid out in front of us. I want my kids to have magical childhoods and, not quite as important but still importantly, I want to preserve those memories for them. Ever since Henry came into our world three weeks ago, I feel so much more grown up, like a legitimate adult, and even though it scares me that I'll never be the free-spirited twenty-one year old I was five years ago, it's comforting that I am still the same person I was then but I'm also so much more. 

That, I think, is a beautiful thing.

Snakes and Stingrays.

Several years ago, Andrew looked me square in the face and told me that his biggest fears were snakes and stingrays. Being the sensitive twenty-two year old that I was, I said "What?!?!" because my biggest fears were the dark (still true), spontaneously growing whiskers on my face (totally happened with pregnancy, by the way), and marrying someone who would try to make me "Mrs. So-and-So" rather than "My wife, Elisabeth".

A year or so into our marriage, I got the stingray thing because Andrew's mom (maybe dad?) emailed me a horrid photograph of ten-year-old Andrew in a lush, tropical setting, waist deep in water where everyone in his family is excitedly touching a stingray. Andrew, on the other hand, looked horrified and bent his back so far away from the stingray and twisted his face in such an absurd manner that the ten-year-old in the photograph looks absolutely nothing like my husband (or any photograph I've seen of him, either).

Still. The snake thing didn't make sense because, although I run away when I see snakes in the wild, Andrew has killed countless snakes while doing yard work and, if I remember correctly, was paid by his mom for every yard snake he got rid of when his family moved to Idaho right before his senior year of high school. So, I didn't really get it. But! I did get that it was an undisputed subject and, while other men may answer that their worst fears were, I don't know, losing all their money or never being able to own their favorite car (I just pulled those examples out of thin air), my husband's biggest fears were snakes and sting rays.

Anyway, I am happy to report that, today, when we took Max (and Cole!) to a natural life museum in Blue Springs, Andrew didn't even flinch when one of the workers offered to let Maxwell (and all the other kids present) touch a snake. So, while I held Henry and stood back, Andrew walked up to that sucker with Max and held his other hand while Max felt the snack once... and then twice... and then six or seven times because, well, Max loves snakes.

Moral of the story: My husband deserves a gold star in fatherhood.

Also, I am really good at blabbering on about nothing.

PS. The third picture above is Maxwell touching the tail of a snake. He was fascinated.

Twenty Six: A 365 Project.

On my birthday last month, I started a 365 Project where I take a real photograph (read: with my big girl camera + set up) every day. The ones above are a few of my favorites from the past six-ish weeks, but if you'd like to follow along closely, definitely check out my photo blog and/or my Facebook. I post the photographs both places every few days!

Did I mention this project is fun? It's really fun!

Newborn Photos! (Not By Me.)

One of the perks of being a photographer is having awesome photographer friends that you can trade sessions with. So! Last week, we strapped Henry (and Max!) into the car, drove for ten minutes, and had these sweet photographs taken by my friend Lauren of Lauren Blair Photography. She specializes in newborns and photographs babies in a way that I am not talented (the posing! the studio lights!) and I had a blast watching her take these. I love how these turned out! My baby is gorgeous.

And yeah. I'm still obsessing over these cheeks.

Also, these photographs mark the beginning and end of Henry's nude modeling career. Best to stop when you're on top!

Henry's First Photobooth and Max is a Real Man.

I'm not gonna lie, the three of us have had a bit of a hard time adjusting to our days at home together. Max does great when there's someone else around, but this morning he got his favorite dinosaurs taken away after throwing them at Henry when Little H frustrated the tar out of him by not playing with him (the downside of not being able to control your arms). He sobbed profusely and I ended up on the floor with him cradled in my arms for fifteen minutes as he mourned the loss of his dinosaurs and, honestly, it felt like one of my lowest "What am I supposed to do?!" mom moments. Max isn't a huge tantrum thrower, but when he throws them, they're historic and it takes everything in me to not cry along with him.

Anyway, a few hours later, once his dinosaurs (and dignity!) were back in tact, he waltzed up to me as I was loading the dishwasher and said "I'm a man, Mommy! I'm Mommy's man!" followed up by "I nice". And he is! He is my nice little boy who spent his evening dancing to music and kissing his little brother on the forehead while sipping a ridiculously unhealthy Steak and Shake milkshake after a healthy dinner.

Pretty sure that makes up for this morning.

I Know I'm Biased...

But! We make seriously cute baby.

Also, those cheeks? They feel, like, ten thousand times better than they look. And yes. I realize how outlandish that sounds, but they are the softest little baby cheeks and I cannot get enough of them.

Just Some Instagrams as of Late

We've been busy getting cabin fever since c-section survivors aren't allowed to do anything (not even short walks!) for the first two weeks after having a baby. But! Yesterday I got green flags to go on walks and drive a car and go grocery shopping and other low-key normal things. I am thrilled! Also a little paranoid about flu season for Little H (Max already got his shot), so we'll see how much we actually leave the apartment until he hits a month, but I will take what I can get.

Feeling Like a Grown Up.

Something about welcoming in a nearly nine pound baby with the smoothest, most heavenly skin that has ever graced the state of Arkansas has made me feel more like a grown up. I mean, sure, I am twenty-six years old and have been a mom for exactly two years, three months, and eighteen days (plus two hours and some change), but something about having a second baby has made me feel more like a true blue adult rather than a thirteen year old masquerading as an adult.

So! Here are three times in the past three days where I've had "I'm an adult!" moments.

One: Earlier this week, during the latest political debate, I walked out of Max's room, leaving him in the dark to happily peruse three different books (Hooray for Wodney Wat, The Belly Button Book, and The Ear Book, if you're curious), kissed my sleeping baby as he swung in his swing, and started loading the dishwasher as my husband muttered under his breath about how much he can't stand the Republican Party. It was something I do every day- check on my son after his dad puts him to bed, kiss my children, tidy up the kitchen, and hear my husband ramble about politics- but in that moment, it felt like such a grown up cliche.

Two: This afternoon, after changing Henry's outfit for the fifth or sixth time (okay, it was the second), I gave him a little baby massage and followed it up with a little toddler massage for Maxwell- homeboy strips down to his diaper as soon as he sees the baby lotion pulled out- actually, today, he laid down on the bed and handed me the bottle. Anyway, afterwards, Maxwell ripped his diaper off and started running around the apartment screaming "I naked! I naked, Mama! NAKED!". Let's be honest, a naked, un-potty trained toddler running around an apartment doesn't really lend itself to a moment of reflection, but as he ran around, I looked at the baby on the bed and looked at the squealing toddler flailing across the room, and thought "What?!" because, really, I cannot even believe how fast this happened.

Three: Tonight, I looked up from nursing Henry and told my husband that it probably wasn't the best idea to let Max eat brownies and potato chips for dinner while lounging on the living room floor watching a show about barnyard animals, but instead of getting worked up and nagging, I rolled my eyes and let it go because, some days (like today), a brownie dinner doesn't really matter. Sure, it would matter if it were every night, but once in a blue moon? Not so much. And so I ate a brownie, too!

Anyway, my whole point is that I am amazed at how fast time goes. It seems like this morning I wondered who I would marry or what it would be like to have kids and, this afternoon, I somehow have two children and a husband and a wedding ring that won't fit again for several weeks. It's almost surreal! I've always been a daydreamer so I daydreamed countless times about what my twenties (and thirties, forties, and fifties and every other age) would be like. I'm a curious person in general and I just am a little in awe lately that I really am an adult and not just pretending to be one.

Also, something about having these reflections makes me wonder if my mom felt the same way when she was raising me and my siblings, because I'm guessing she did and that most other moms did (and do!), too.

First Normal Day.

Today was my first normal day with my two boys.

I mean, Andrew did come home a few hours early (thank heaven for Fall Break and a husband awesome enough to work up Comp Time before his baby's birth!), and I was able to take a nap which, let's face it, won't be in my normal schedule after I've fully recovered, but today was the first day where I had to chase down a toddler to change his diaper- "The bad guy pooped, Mama! The bad guy!"- while holding a newborn that was busy projectile vomiting most of the morning and busy screaming whenever he was put down the rest of the morning. But! It was also the first day where Little H played with his mirror and also the first day that, as Little H played with his mirror, Maxwell dangled animals into the other side of the cradle saying, "A zebra, Huck! A zebra!".

So! Even though it's chaotic and kinda gross and I'm bursting at the seams to be able to go on walks and drive a car so I can take my babes to storytime and the grocery store and I'm dying to be able to pick up Max, I am welcoming this new life chapter with open arms.