A Week of Snuggles

This week has been the first time since we moved to Boston that Matt has been away on business. He's been in Dallas this week (comes home Thursday), and he's been missed. Since I'm normally home with the girls by myself during the day anyway, I'm most affected in the evenings. First of all, don't worry everyone, I'm doing fine, I promise. I'm not entirely starved for adult conversation as he and I do call each other in the evening before bed...and there's always Facebook to keep me entertained. I'm not going crazy, actually quite the opposite. This week has been a great opportunity for me to spend some more meaningful time with the girls than what I feel I normally get in with them during the week. Maybe it's because I feel I'm loving them enough for both of their parents this week while Matt's gone, but really when are these girls ever not loved to full capacity? Whatever the reasoning behind it, I've felt like I've gotten to know my daughters just a little bit better this week.


I hear this a lot: "Oh! Twins? Oh wow, but they don't look anything alike! Well I guess they are two different people." And I hear it from complete strangers everywhere I go. So yes, strange people, I do have to separate daughters who are separate people, and this is apparent to me (and anyone else who spends 30 seconds with them) even at their young age. They turn 18 months on Thursday and I can't even believe how time has gone by so quickly. They grow so much each day--I could talk about my maternal sentiments for ever and ever. But instead of going on and on possibly forcing myself into a fit of joyous tears that I've so often made fun of my mother for doing ("mom, are you crying again?", I'll share tidbits about my daughters and try to scratch the surface of what I love about them. 


I would say that Olivia is typically my cuddle bug, barring illness in either one of them (that's when they both get extra snugly), but this past week, maybe 10 days or so, it has been Sophie who has claimed that role. 

Here, we are cuddling on the couch watching an episode of VeggieTales. Up until this past week, this photo could have existed by me simply picking her up, placing her in my lap, and getting out my phone to snap a quick picture. Except that this photo didn't compose itself that way. Much to my delight, Sophie crawled closer to me, laid her head down in my lap and looked up at me and smiled. I couldn't resist nabbing a hug and when I was done, she sat up and leaned on me, grabbed her blankie and snuggled up. *melt* During our snuggle session I was able to just hold her and be still for a moment. I caught whiffs of her hair, which smells like baby shampoo or yogurt depending on whether she's had a bath yet or not. I was taken back to when she was a newborn and how I'd sit and hold her and soak up that new baby smell...which is something like baby shampoo mixed with old breast milk, and is still somehow the best scent I've ever experienced. It really hit me how much she has grown since then. Here she is, mobile on her own, physically able to snuggle up with mommy by choice. And my heart loves that she chose to do that.

Here she is laying with her head in my lap

I could sit here all day long with her. How is it that she fits so perfectly?

Here's a shot from the front--still in mommy's lap, and she looks so settled

A snuggle with her blankie--and she looks just like her Granny (my mom) when she was this age

I get lots of comments about her beautiful long, fine, light hair, and I think it's gorgeous--such a contrast from my darker, coarser mane.

I just want to keep her this age forever and ever.

I've mentioned in other posts that Olivia has been fighting bedtime and sleep. This has been going on for about 6 weeks, and we've tried everything. One of the things that we've been working on is a better, more indicative bedtime routine. Part of that routine is having the girls brush their teeth after they've had their jammies put on. Sophie has 12 teeth that I've counted, 6 on top and 6 on bottom, and I believe Olivia has 10 at this point although I think I see some more at the top on their way through. Right now, brushing their teeth consists of putting water on a very soft-bristled toothbrush and letting them essentially chew on it for about 3 minutes. These toothbrushes were a stocking-stuffer gift from Nana and Pop-Pop (Sean's parents) this past Christmas, and came with tubes of fluoride-free toothpaste. I've held off on that part since they're already so adamant and demanding about getting their toothbrushes as it is...I'll introduce the sweet stuff later.

Speaking of sweet stuff, get a load of these cheeks! And that chinny-chin-chin. It's a constant struggle to restrain myself from kissing their faces all the time, and I'm honestly quite horrible at executing that restraint. Olivia gets the green toothbrush, just as she gets green whenever there's a color distinction being made between the girls. 

Sophie gets the purple toothbrush (and everything else) because that's just the fun-loving type of girl she is.

Part of what I've realized during my quality time with them this week is how independent and capable they are. No mom, I'm not surprised and yes I know where they get it from, but it's just so amazing to see it actually happening. I come from a long line of independent and headstrong women so I've always known that my children (at least one of them) would take after me in that regard. But, instead of being a displeasing quality, like I had feared for most of my life, I find it endearing, amazing, and so much fun to watch. They take so much pride in doing things on their own, like brushing their teeth or drinking from a straw. It's very rewarding to see their happiness. 


The last tidbit I'll share about this week with my girls is about Olivia. Lately, her toy of choice has been her baby-doll. She doesn't ask for it by name, but if I ask her to "show me" she can always point and grunt her way to wherever it is, and as soon as I see it and as, "is it your baby that you want?", she kicks her legs and giggles and squirms until its in her arms. 


And then she does this with it:

She's not as snugly with mommy as she has been in weeks past, but she is definitely snugly with her baby doll. When she first gets her baby in the morning, she'll usually say "meme bay-me" which I used to think was "give me baby", but after having a few conversations with her, I now think that she is saying "mommy's baby". I think that she is pretending to be mommy with her baby, so I ask her, "what does mommy do with baby?" and she immediately kisses her doll with a big, open-mouthed smack. I say, "that's right! Lots of kisses!" and then I usually attack her with a storm of my own, which makes her giggle and snuggle her baby closer. She's still my baby (and yes mom, always will be) but I have a feeling she'll be an amazing mommy for real someday. But I'm in no hurry to get to that point yet--I think I'll keep her at this stage for just a while more while I still can. 




I'm sorry that Matt is missing out on all of this while he's out of town, but hopefully they'll still feel snugly and independent after he's home too. All I know is that I'm very grateful for the opportunity to be able to stay home with them during the day to witness these subtle, yet astounding changes in them firsthand. 




p.s. I know Olivia has "piggies" in her hair in all of her pictures lately, but she really does ask for them to be done, and I think they're just about the cutest thing I've ever seen.

Instagram-ification

One of my favorite things about owning a smart phone, namely the iPhone 4, is all of the photography apps that are available at the App Store. I won't get into all of the other things that I love about my iPhone...and all of my other Apple products, to boot, in this post. I'll save that for another time. My favorite photography app by far is Instagram. I don't take advantage of the app to its fullest--I don't share my Instagram photos through the app, as I tend to upload them to Facebook most of the time, but I love the filters and editing features that it offers for the photos I have on my phone. The feel that it gives is very different than my personal editing style when it comes to my photography, but I like the way the app can help tell a story with the photos that I've taken, which is my aim in the first place. So, naturally, this post will feature pictures that I've taken with my iPhone and have edited using the Instagram app. Enjoy!

The four of us found ourselves at the park again this afternoon. It wasn't as warm today as it has been, but it was nice enough to be outside, at least for a while. 

How did Sophie's face end up like this?

From stuffing her face with fishies like this, and this & this.

We started off by having a snack out on the baseball field.

Even with a face-full of goldfish crackers, her daddy still couldn't resist stealing a kiss!

Olivia decided that Mommy should have a snack too!

It was so sweet of her to share with me!

I asked Matt to take some pictures of me with the girls on my phone, since I rarely ever get to be in photos with them! It seems like I'm always behind the camera, which is usually where I prefer to be, but every now and then I'll wish I had a good shot with the three of us together. So...he obliged. 

And after many, many shots (although only a few are posted here), I'd had enough!

I wanted to get a good picture with me and Sophie, but she wouldn't hold still so I decided that a smother-from-mother would just have to do!

Later, after we had moved on from the baseball field, Olivia decided she wanted to be particularly particular about where she had her next bite of goldfish. She walked all the way around the park to an empty table and made herself comfortable, where she then demanded that I give her more of her snack! Luckily she gave me some cheese in return for those cheesy goldfish crackers she was getting...

The girls soon discovered a sand-pit that had buckets and shovels all ready to go! Many of you know that one of the things I dislike the most is grittiness and I could feel my blood pressure and heart rate increasing as I watched the girls dump bucket after bucket of sand on themselves and each other. My feet took a pretty serious hit too, but I got these darlings shots and it made the whole thing worth it!

They really enjoyed themselves today, and that's what we had been hoping for. Matt and I were treated to an afternoon of giggles and cheesy-goldfish smiles!

Here are some other photographs from last weekend that I processed using Instagram as well. I could have added these to the sippy-cup post, but we were at a park on the Charles River near the Boston Science Museum. And, since this was a post about my Instagram photos (although the ones that show in this post don't even scratch the surface of the collection I have), and involved referencing our day at the park again, I figured I'd add these photos with this post as well. 

Here's Matt with the girls along the river's edge. Don't worry, my children can't fit through the railing...although their sippy-cups can. We discovered this tragically as Sophie dropped hers with a satisfying "splash!" into the Charles River. Lucky for her (or more for us), we had an extra one at home that looked just like it!

Sophie raced to the bottom of this hill, and so I followed her. Matt stayed behind with the family slow-poke. 

 A couple hours and minus-one sippy-cup later, it was time to head back home, and the girls who normally make silly faces for me when I pull out my phone to take their pictures, didn't even notice that I was snapping away. 

Shoes, shoes, shoes!

One of my favorite things right now is how excited the girls get when I tell them it's time to put on their shoes. They start running around chattering, "shoes? shoes? shoes?" waiving their arms in the air and giggling. It's the cutest thing! They know that when mommy says that it's time to put their shoes on, we're going to go outside somewhere, and I think they love being big girls and walking to the elevator by themselves. I know they love the park, and they seem to love walking on their own everywhere we go! 


They even play with my shoes while I'm sitting on the floor with them--their favorite thing is to take them off my feet and put them back on on the other foot. They're so silly!

Here are our shoes, so you can have a visual

Politics & Motherhood

Warning: I'm about to get political and motherly which can be two of the scariest things either separately or (and definitely) combined.


Tonight as I was laying in bed I was reading on my iPhone. I came across two articles that struck chords with me, and I need to get how I'm feeling about them off my chest before I can have any hope of a peaceful night's sleep--and that's barring any unforeseen screaming that Olivia plans on doing tonight (still not sleeping through the night). *An amendment to this post: during the time I wrote this previous sentence and the time I posted, Olivia has been up twice.


I'll get political first, and if you don't want to read what I have to say about the issues (or this one in particular), skip down to where I get motherly. Either way, brace yourself.


The first article that I read was found on The Huffington Post's mobile site, and which I have relocated on their website for the purposes of this post. Turns out it was posted 4 days ago, but I  don't see how that matters. Here's the link: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/soraya-chemaly/womens-reproductive-rights_b_1345214.html


True, it's an extremely long post which, to some of the more ignorant men out there, might be construed as a pissed-off woman's rant. Except that it is. Only it's much more than that. This woman has every right to feel this way. I feel this way. I feel that all women with a brain and a heartbeat who are mature enough to understand this issue should feel this way--outraged at the horror that is described in this article.


Let me make this perfectly clear. The "horror that is described in this article" that I am referring to is not the act of abortion. What I am referring to is any staunch right-winged Republican man who thinks he knows what is best for me. No, no, wait, wait...that's still not quite right. Let me try again. What I am referring to is any man who thinks he knows what is best for me. Are we crystal?


Good. Now, I hope I haven't upset anyone by saying that I wasn't referring to the act of abortion as being horrendous, because that is not what I believe, it's just not what I was referring to. If I have, go ahead and take this opportunity to un-wad your granny-panties. Of course the act of abortion is a terrible thing. I believe it's a terrible way to end a life, and that it's a terrible experience for any woman to go through. This whole "pro-life" vs. "pro-choice" stance is just ridiculous. Now, I don't know this for a fact, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that no woman gets pregnant with the intention of aborting a fetus. My personal belief is that abortion is one way to deal with what is perceived as a "problem", and that is a difficult, gut-wrenching, painstaking decision for any woman to make. I do not believe that the decision to abort is ever made lightly, just as the decision to carry a fetus to full-term as a result of an unexpected or unwanted pregnancy is either. The point is that both are choices, and that right to have that choice needs to be protected. I think that, as women, we need to start showing each other some compassion for this choice that is being made. I can anticipate flack from fellow Christians who might essentially say that "abortion is murder" and to them I say, step back. While I do believe that life begins at conception, isn't God the final judge of us all? I don't know about you, whoever you are, but I know that for me, I'd much rather be judged for loving too much, than not loving enough. I'd much rather be judged for being too compassionate and sensitive, than for being found wanting.


If you haven't figured it out already, I tend to side with the Democrats on most issues, although I do have sentiments that would be classified as Republican. For example, I believe that women (and men) should be educated about pregnancy, and about sex, since (disregarding technological advances and personal experience) that is what leads to pregnancy--Democratic. However, I also believe that abstinence is the only sure-fire way to prevent a pregnancy and can understand how educators (or perhaps it's just the states at this point) are eager to cut to the chase and set the bottom line for kids who are learning about these issues--Republican...but only slightly. I believe that forms and methods of contraception need, not should but need, to be taught in public schools because, as human's, even the "tweens" and teens who face these issues in their lives deserve to be informed about, well, all of the information that we as responsible and caring adults can give them--Democratic. This all being said, education is where combat on this entire issue needs to start. I wonder to myself: shouldn't those who are said to be pro-life be in favor of educating children to the fullest extent regarding sex and pregnancy so as to prevent the unwanted or dangerous pregnancies that cause this debate in the first place? If unwanted pregnancies weren't occurring because men and women are educated about how to prevent pregnancy effectively, wouldn't there be much less of a need for all of this debate? Of course this is not fail-safe and cases of unwanted pregnancy will alway occur for the rest of mankind, but I  really think that showing some responsibility as adults/educators/parents would be a great start in nixing this problem from the get-go.


Now that my tangent on sex education has been resolved, let me get back to the issue on hand. There is not much else that terrifies me more than anyone trying to dictate policy that involves removing my own control of my own body. Be it my legs, my eyes, or my uterus, hands-off everyone, I'm not trying to invade your personal space, choice, or bubble, so get the hell out of mine.


Ah, here comes the motherly part. Okay everyone, breathe in, breathe out. We good? Great.


The second article that I read to night was a referral from the Somerville Mom's group that I am a part of. It's a bunch of men and women with ties to Somerville who post messages to the listserv about whatever they want. Some people are selling or looking for baby items, some people are notifying everyone else of upcoming open-houses at the preschool down the street, or some people post links to articles that they find interesting. This one is found at: http://www.waldorfhomeschoolers.com/five-reasons-to-stop-saying-good-job


Now, unlike the first article which I mostly agreed with, I mostly disagreed with the content of this second article. The premise of this article is that praising children is actually detrimental to their development as constructive, independent, successful individuals. It speaks about how praise serves parents' laziness more than it serves children's positive development. The article asks readers to stop and think about the ways that their praise is actually hurting and hindering their children. It gives reasons such as praise is manipulative, it serves to create "praise-junkies", and that praise actually steals a child's delight away from their accomplishment (whaaat??)


I find it absolutely absurd, to be quite blunt, that anyone could construe praising a child as being detrimental to their development. As someone who studied child development thoroughly in college (perhaps, say, to the point of majoring in it?), I am horrified at parents who might agree with the ideas this article is putting forth. Here I am, being judgmental, hypocritical to my last topic's argument. I just simply do not believe it is okay to withhold praise from your child. One thing I noticed is that this article references children of significantly different developmental stages and groups them into one reference to "children" in general. This is its first mistake. Children who are older, more mature and hopefully, barring any detrimental praise from their parents, more developed than younger children (like my girls at this developmental stage) should of course be able to think for themselves and be able to determine whether their actions are good or bad, right or wrong.


But where does that determination stem from, people? Allow me. PARENTS! Parents are the guardians, the steerers, the educators, and the protectors for their children. If my child, at 18 months old, tackles her sister (as she so often does), it is my job, duty, and intuition as her mother and knowing right from wrong for myself, to pull her off, reprimand her, and help her to understand the situation to the best of her toddler-brained capabilities. Similarly, if instead of throwing her block toy at her sister's head, my daughter chooses to hand it over nicely in an obvious attempt to share, I am going to see to my same job, duty, and intuition in this situation and praise her for making a good decision. This really is a no-brainer for me, people.


I absolutely know that one day my daughters will not need to look at me for clarification on whether their actions are thoughtful and kind because that is how I am raising them. As their mother, I am actively making decisions to teach my children how to make their own decisions and to show kindness and compassion (ah, there's that word again!) and love and discernment in their own actions. If they do not learn these things within a few years, we're not even talking adulthood here, then it is because my parenting has failed them, and at that point shall warrant a review of technique and/or content. It will certainly not, however, be due to the praise that I provide them for their love, joy, peacefulness, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control--and yes, 18 month olds display all of these qualities. And while these qualities might be innate, that is to say that humans are of decent nature, they all need some encouragement, aka praise, in order to develop.


My parents praised me as a child and I turned out better than fine, thank you very much. Perhaps the author's parents didn't praise them, which is what has led to them to be so utterly confused? Or oh, I'm sorry, they must have received too much praise. Lucky for them, their mother chose not to abort.

A Whole Lotta 5'3

Now, I'm not scary short, but I'm not tall by any stretch of the imagination either (yes, pun intended). I figure I stopped growing somewhere around age 15, although I think my feet stopped growing once I turned 8. And I'll be honest, my waistline has continued to grow well into my adulthood. There are pro's and con's to only have reached 5 foot 3. Here are some off the top of my head:


Pro's:

• I hardly ever have to duck for tree branches that are hanging low when I'm out on walks
• I have a good excuse to buy seats at a concert instead of GA, where I fear I might be trampled by the mosh pit, even yes--at the Celine Dion concert.
• It made my "rule" about only dating men taller than me easy to follow...and to justify, for that matter
• I figure that if I trip and fall to the ground, I'm not going very far and so I'm less likely to get seriously hurt, which is great because I'm fairly clumsy and get tripped-up a lot

Con's:

• I cannot reach anything higher than the first two shelves of my cabinets in my apartment without either A) the assistance of my 6'2 hubby or B) the assistance of an ever-increasingly wobbly dining room chair
• I wished about 30 times yesterday during my photo shoot that I had brought a ladder to climb up on! Someday I'll capture those elusive angles that only beastly tall people and daring balancers can get
• I'm pretty sure my 18 month old daughter is half my height already

I'll stop there, because I believe that the pro's should outweigh the con's in life.

There's really no serious point to this post, except that I was thinking about it this morning, and last night, and every other time I'm in the kitchen wishing I could just reach that thing I needed on the next shelf up...

Sippy-Cups

This past week, the girls have really gotten into using and hauling around sippy-cups. This is the first time that they've really used them, since when they turned 1 and I took them off their bottles, they went straight to using regular cups. I've integrated their sippy-cups into our outings: trips to the park, the science museum, church, etc. Now, they ask for them after their nap and they don't let go of them until they're either empty or they get distracted with something more enthralling (which doesn't happen a lot). 


I was hesitant to transition from bottles to sippy-cups because a lot of the non-spill designs have valves that require sucking, much like drinking from a bottle, so I felt as though they would not be far enough away from the bottle-drinking to improve on their development. I did have a couple of cups, though, that have straws at the top instead of valves and they are still no-spill, which I love, even though they mostly only get water inside their cups. I decided I could give into their constant whines for the colorful cups since they have mastered drinking from a regular cup (with assistance, although Sophie can do it by herself if she's being supervised; Olivia has no interest yet) and because drinking from a straw is something they should be able to do anyway. 


Sophie first mastered the art of straw-sucking while we were in the car this past week. She'd take a noisy slurp and then let out boisterous giggles as she was so proud of herself for being able to do it! Olivia, in her true fashion, studied what her sissy was doing with the sippy-cup, and once Sophie had put hers down, Olivia snatched it up and went right at it! She didn't miss a beat!


Now they both love drinking out of their sippy-cups and when Sophie asks for a "dink!", I know to put her beverage inside her cup with the straw. 


We took the girls, and their sippy-cups, on an outing this morning to the Boston Science Museum, where we have a membership. When it was snack time, we whipped out the sippy-cups and their honey-nut cheerios and let them at it. 

Here, you can see the straw in the top of the cup, like I was describing.

Snack: honey-nut cheerios and water from their sippy-cups

                                                                     





I'm actually relieved to be able to just hand them their sippy-cups now, and not have to worry about handing them an open cup every time they want a sip of milk or water. They're getting so big so quickly! This momma's just trying to keep up!

Who's Her Daddy?

I could say that since Sean died there have been many instances in where explaining my current life situation has left me feeling confused and uncomfortable. But then I could also say that this is true since my children were born. Or since I remarried. Or since the adoption process began. In reality, my life has felt like a giant mess for a long time, but instead of trying to make my life better, recently I've tried hard at bettering  myself in order to be able to adjust to and handle what my live is. We as Christians are taught to believe that God is in complete control of our lives and we are supposed to die to self and live according to his plan for us. I, being a Christian, have of course adopted this philosophy, and so I feel that if I work toward accepting what God's plan for my life is, I will, as a result, be happier and feel less frazzled. 

That being said, I still find myself in confusing and uncomfortable situations whenever certain aspects of my life are brought to light. For example, this afternoon I had a woman and her baby over to my house as sort of an interview. I'm taking on babysitting jobs as a way to earn a few extra bucks (boy do I feel like I'm 14 again when I say that!) and so this woman came over to see if I would be a good fit for her needs. As with most friendly conversations that take place in front of my girls, the subject of my own children came up many times. This led into the discussion of how different they look--"one clearly looks like you, does the other look like your husband?" Naturally, or perhaps actually unnaturally, this then led into a comment I felt compelled to make in order to explain myself. "No, actually my husband is their adoptive father. Their birth father, who I was married to, passed away. He had the tan skin and lighter hair that you're seeing in my other daughter." 

This conversation came up this afternoon, but it's no where near the first time this has occurred, and I'm positive it won't be the last. Now, let me just clarify what about this is particularly uncomfortable for me. I somehow feel the need to express the detail that the birth father of my children has died. A big part of me doesn't see why it's a necessary piece of information, because it's such a deep response to a shallow question about where my daughter's looks come from, and quite frankly, I can tell that it makes people uncomfortable when they are all of a sudden hit with that piece of information. Couldn't I just leave that out all together and say something along the lines of, "their father had (past tense?!) the tan skin and lighter hair that you're seeing"? Somehow, I just don't see that working either, thus the controversial reference to being widowed.

T.M.I., though? I hardly think so. 

Everyone who knows me knows that in order to keep going with  my life I haven't had to forget Sean. Quite the opposite, in fact, I've had to remember him. Every day. Remembering who he was and what he did for and with me truly helps get me through some days. I have been blessed enough to have found another man who I can love the way I loved Sean, and Matt would never think of my remembrance of Sean as being unsettling or controversial. Together Sean and I did the best thing that either of us will ever do in our lives, and their names are Sophie and Olivia. And the fact that Sean isn't here anymore is definitely one of the most relevant facts about my life. I think that this contributes to my apparently innate need to bring up his death every time a discussion about my children breaks the surface even a little bit. This is all on one hand.

On the other hand is my present life. I'm married to a wonderful man who loves these girls as his own. And they are his. Sophie wakes up in the morning saying, "daddy, daddy", while wanting to see Matt. Olivia scurries to the front door every night as he comes home from work when she hears the deadbolt unlocking. They cry when he leaves the room, they insist on giving him kisses before they are put in their cribs at night, and he wakes up to attend to Olivia, who is currently going through a phase where she wakes up multiple times throughout the night, even when he has to work in the morning. He is clearly their father, their dad, their daddy. He gets told that Sophie looks like him often enough when we are out in public together, and that doesn't bother either of us in the slightest (why should it, she is, after all, adorable). 

I'm not exactly sure why I feel uncomfortable in these situations where I have to explain about Sean and Matt. I think that mostly it stems from not wanting to make other people feel uncomfortable. While I've come to terms with my life, it might take other people more than a few seconds to get there with me. And for those of you who follow me on Facebook, ever since that horrible lady accosted me while on my floral consultation regarding whether or not I was marrying the father of my children, I've become more sensitive to people's judgments. I'm not naive. I know what goes through people's heads when they see a single mother with children who is about to get married. I wish I could tell them to trust me, whatever "mistakes" I've made in my life, these children and my involvement with their father hasn't been one of them. Perhaps these situations are uncomfortable to me when I expect the judgement. I don't see it every time, but I see it often enough to expect it as the default once the telling of my back-story commences. 

Overall, I'm genuinely not sorry to have to explain my situation with the girls and Sean and Matt. I've ended up with an amazing family (extended members included). I suppose I just wish I knew a more comfortable way of addressing my situation without expecting it to be awkward for the other person. And without it actually being awkward for them. Maybe one of these days I'll figure it out, but until then I'll stick to my strange answers when people ask me about my daughters as they try to understand who their daddy is.

iMac

Last weekend, Matt and I purchased a brand new 27-inch iMac, and I absolutely LOVE it! Editing my photos is absolutely incredible on the screen...and that's pretty much all I use it for, to be honest! 


While I was thrilled with our new purchase, my daughters were thrilled with the packaging it came in. Being the shutterbug that I am, I whipped out my camera and shot away! Here are a few of my favorites from their playtime with the box. For the rest of the photos, view my album on Facebook.