Katharine Elizabeth Photography {the blog}

My daughter asked for cereal for breakfast.

“Lucky Charms.  With no milk, just a spoon,” she specified.

A little later, after she called out, “I’m done with breakfast, Mama!”, I walked by the kitchen table and noticed her bowl:

She ate every single marshmallow bit and left every single oat piece behind.

Remind me to give that girl a Flintstone vitamin.

I thought I’d post a few pictures of items that have gone out the door lately.

And actually, one reason I want to show this 5×5 session album (done with 20 images) is because I should mention that in addition to having images in your book with a white border on each page (previously shown here), you can also do them as full-page square images (left side in the image below):

A square crop doesn’t work for every image, of course, but sometimes it’s just what you need.

I love this 20×20 wood gallery mount.  So clean and classic in black and white:

And a couple of canvas wraps that I love (both 16×20s):

For this one, we can all just sigh a collective “awwwwww” together, okay?:

You just said it, didn’t you?

I knew it.

You can’t look at that beautiful baby and not smile and say, “awwwww.”  It’s impossible.

I also ended up getting two wraps of my own kids last month.  This one is a 20×30:

And the 2nd one is a 16×24.  The 2nd one sat on top of our DVD cabinet for a few weeks (below, left) before I finally bit the bullet and hammered a nail into the wall for it (below right).

I have a hard time actually hanging them up.  Because once I hang them up, I can’t tote them around the house from room to room, deciding where they look best.  And heck, that’s half the fun.

Hi there.  I’m still here.  I know I haven’t posted in a couple of weeks.  Life got busy and then I got sick and then some other stuff and blah-blah-blah and throw in just a DASH of laziness (just a dash, though) and here we are, a couple of weeks behind on blog posts.

So I’m going to post really quickly today, with only one picture, just to ease my conscience about my lack-of-post-i-ness:

We had some friends over for pizza this weekend (except that they brought the pizza, and I’m not sure why, but it’s proof that we have really nice friends) and their middle child got along famously with our youngest child.

The two girls spent a good chunk of the night taking turns playing “Make Me A Princess” on my phone (best $0.99 I ever spent on an app, by the way).  I snapped this picture of them at one point during the evening and I totally love it:

I love how engrossed they are, how my daughter has her arm around her new friend, how both girls look like they were plucked right out of the 70’s, yet they are playing with an electronic device that belongs nowhere near the 70’s.

I like how soft the picture is and the backlight and the friendship of it.

And I guess it doesn’t hurt that I happen to know these girls are both total sweethearts, too.

My tiniest child turns 4 tomorrow.

And she is not so tiny anymore, when you get right down to it.

(seen here, enjoying a birthday dress she received from our good friends in Iowa)

When I was pregnant with her, I was convinced she was a boy, like her older brother.

Even when the ultrasound technician claimed with 80% accuracy that she was a girl, I clung to the 20% that she would be a boy.  I continued telling our friends and family that we didn’t know her gender.  That it could go either way.

Not because I wanted her to be a boy, you see.

But because I was almost afraid to let myself hope for a girl.

I loved her brother with my whole heart (and continue to do so).  His existence had changed me as a person and fundamentally altered me for the better.  And on top of that, he was a boy and that was all I knew about babies and children.  I felt I knew everything there was to know about raising boys (I didn’t then and I don’t now, of course, but I was feelin’ pretty good about it back then).  I knew surely that I could raise a 2nd boy with no problem.

But there was still a hidden part of me that hoped for a girl.  Not for the sake of pink dresses or toy boxes full of Barbies or hairbows galore (although we have all of those now).  But because I wanted a child to whom I could impart my gender-specific advice and experience.  A child with whom I could share not only the life lessons of sharing, telling the truth, and striving to do your best, but also the life lessons of How to Survive in the Middle School Girl’s Locker Room, What to do When You Like a Boy But He Doesn’t Like You Back, and that it’s Okay to Cry When You Feel Happy or Sad or Even in Between Because These Emotions Make You Who You Are.

I hope I do right by both of my children.

And I especially hope I do right by my daughter in the sensitive areas of All Things Girl.

But mostly, I’m so happy this amazing little person came into my life and I have the opportunity to try.