A case of the Mondays...and some Pajama Time

Some days, while determined to plant my feet, put up my fists, and roll with the punches, I end the day with what feels like two black eyes and a near knock-out.  Today was one of those days.  It was not only Monday, but the Monday following Thanksgiving, a day that called for some recovering from a busy weekend and some reloading for the upcoming week.  This Sunday is Cruz's baptism day and I am starting to get a little to-do list crazy as I plan for our little house to fill up with 18+ peeps.  There is a lot to do, however, sometimes I admit that I have a way of planning beyond the necessary, beyond the reality.  I'm learning, however, and today was the icing on the reality check cake.  Maybe just what I needed...

Today was my six-week doctor's appointment.  Grandma and Grandpa had graciously offered to stay with Cruz, so I planned a morning of a much-needed run to the bank, the grocery store, and the pharmacy following my appointment.  Besides quick trips here and there, I haven't left Cruz; although I knew he was in the best hands, I'm still getting used to being away from my little man.  It's weird.  A part of me looks forward to the few hours of 'me time,' however, once I'm out of the house, alone in my car, I find my foot pressing a little harder on the gas pedal, hurrying my way through errands, speeding past yellow lights, and skipping 'important,' stops in order to get home. 

What I hoped would be a half hour, in-and-out appointment, ended up lasting an hour and a half, an hour of that spent thumbing through a September issue of Better Homes and Gardens, replying to text messages I had neglected for two weeks, and wishing I was home, in pajamas, rocking my baby boy.  The longer I waited, the worse the errands I was planning on running sounded, and by the time I was called for my appointment, my blood pressure was high and I was more than ready to just be home. 

Last night after Beau got home, I attempted to finish a baking spree I had successfully started the night before.  See, I can't just order a cake for Cruz's baptism and call it good.  I need to have a dessert platter of chocolate covered cherries, almond bark pretzels, and fancy cake balls, complete with lollipop sticks and pretty blue ribbon tied around the top (see picture below for inspiration).

I'm fairly confident that I'm a pretty good cook; however, when it comes to baking, especially recipes that call for melting and dipping chocolate, I'm truly one disaster in the making.  Two hours later, with a counter covered in chocolate remains, cake batter, and about every spoon I own, I was nearing the end of my rope.  Don't get me wrong, I can chocoholic with the rest of ya, but there is nothing worse than cleaning leftover melted chocolate from bowls, utensils, and countertops.  By the time I had the dishes cleaned, the countertop cleared, and the dark chocolate dishwater drained, I was exhausted.  With one hand, I took my baking sheet and headed for the fridge.  As I went to place my 30-some cake balls on the bottom shelf of the fridge, I managed to drop a heavy bowl of leftover salsa right in the middle of the sheet, smashing most of my chocolate disaster.  It was one of those tragic moments that leaves you dumbfounded and speechless, sitting on the kitchen floor, covered in nothing but salsa, chocolate, and shame.       

Getting in the car and driving to Hy-Vee for cake mix, dipping chocolate, and lollipop sticks did cross my mind for a split second.  When it comes to cooking and baking, I don't like things going wrong in my kitchen.  But what did I do instead?  I sighed, coughed back a couple of tears, and threw the entire baking sheet, lollipop sticks and all, into the trash.   

I'm not going to lie, it was a liberating experience for me.  The sound of the half-melted cake balls hitting the insides of the trash can sounded like a choir of angels singing 'I Will Survive.'  Yes, it was a disaster with about four hours of wasted time and now, no cake balls to show for it.  But, the show will go on.  Cruz will be baptized on Sunday, cake balls or not, and we will live (probably healthier) without them. 

Instead of moping in the middle of my kitchen disaster and wallowing in my Monday-Blues, I picked up my little, wrapped him in a blankie, and escaped to his room for some storytime.  We read Pajama Time, and I rocked him to sleep with the tree lit and Christmas music on.  Drowned out the weary world around us and focused on his sweet little face.  As he laid across my chest, resting his head on my left arm, I had the perfect view of his face.  I watched his eyes get heavy and fall shut, revealing the little eyelashes beginning to grow.  He fights it, the slits of his eyes continuing to study my every move as I mouth the words, hop into bed, turn out the light, you can have a party in your dreams tonight.  His mouth and cheeks are the last to give in, continuing to take little sucks of his pacifier that make the sweetest little squeak.  His hand is weaved around the chain of my necklace, and rests under the collar of my shirt.  As he sleeps, he continues to make little noises, a combination of little baby breaths, grunts, and squeaks, creating the perfect harmony with the music in the background.

This little moment outweighed the four hours of kitchen disaster I had just experienced.  It was as if Cruz knew we needed that quiet little moment together.  The reality check I needed to forget all that are cake balls. 

All these moments...the big, the small, the silly, the mundane, the disasters, the adventures, are what life is all about.

Thanksgiving

What a Thanksgiving it was.  I've always dreamed of our first holiday season with a baby, and at various parts throughout this wonderfully long five days, I felt as though I was living in the middle of a Hallmark card.  Of course it was filled with our usual learn-as-you-go parenting moments, complete with packing and un-packing baby bags, warming up cars, 'self-soothing' in the parking lot of Kwik Star, and a monstrous poo that filled the leg of a sleeper instead of the diaper itself, leading us to cut Cruz's onesie off instead of pulling it over his head.  But weaved within these little moments of madness were the moments I've lived for.  Those can't-catch-your-breath moments that leave you wishing life would always stay this way.  And together, those moments of madness and moments of peace create the perfect quilt of life to wrap up in with a big mug of something steamy.   

I think the long Thanksgiving weekend is one of my favorites of the entire year.  Unlike the chaos that permeates around Christmastime, Thanksgiving is the perfect mix of traveling and hibernating.  It's the thrills of the first holiday moments, decorating the tree, bundling up in my favorite boots and mittens, and wrapping that first present.  It's the continuation of traditions we started as two, and the beginning of new now that we are three.  Most of all, it's the feeling that comes with long weekends, where time seems to slow down a little, giving us the opportunity to breathe, relax, and enjoy all that is life.

...Enjoying the lights of the Christmas tree as we anxiously await for Beau to get home from work Wednesday night.  Cruz is fascinated by the hundreds of lights that fill our living room right now.  I'm starting to think this year-round Christmas tree is a good idea.  He is enthralled with it and especially loves the way the lights dance on the glass of the window as we rock back and forth.  We spend a lot of time swaying in front of the picture window....

...Enjoying a Wednesday night walk through the mall and an impromptu family dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings.  Bottles, bibs, and chicken wings.  A baby who loved the commotion and sat wide eyed as his parents started their five-day food binge.  We squeezed orange slices into bottles of Blue Moon, passed Cruz back and forth across the table, and stashed all the individually-wrapped wet wipes in our diaper bag.

...Relaxing by our very first crackling fire of the season.  Some baby bath time and a pair of cozy pajamas.  Blankets piled in the middle of the living room floor.  Some family time under the tree, too good for even our apprehensive cat to resist, and a movie I only half paid attention to while snapping picture after picture of a baby smiling at the Christmas tree.

...Enjoying a Thanksgiving Thursday of lots of family and lots of food.  Puppy hats and heated seats, cappuchino, chocolate donuts, and dreams of seeing Macy's parade in person.  Sneaking away for some quiet time to feed Cruz while the aromas of cranberry stuffing, butternut squash, and a roasted chicken make their way upstairs.  Eating our first Thanksgiving dinner as a baby talks to us from the other room.  Two great-grandparents, perfectly content holding their babies while the rest of their family eats first.  Diapers changed on the living room floor, turkey pajamas crawling down the hall, and a 'Thanksgiving' present from Grandma.  And finally, wrapping sleepy babies in snuggly car seats, kisses goodbye, and long car rides home.

...Enjoying Black Friday shopping that started a bit later than past years.  Half-priced jeans, a few Christmas steals, and sacks that make their way to the hiding place upstairs as Beau taunts me with his usual threats.  A radio station that plays Christmas music from Cruz's room and a Balsam Fir Wallflower that fills the entire house with the scents of real Christmas trees.  A happy baby in an adorably stiff, over-sized snowsuit, a happy mama in a new pair of suede boots, and a spotlight that helps guide our way to Main Street for the Second Annual Holiday Hoopla.  Watching the excitement of Santa's arrival from the windows of Soho, listening to the boom of fireworks as we sip martinis, dip sushi rolls in soy sauce, and rock babies to sleep.  Getting a taste of raising toddlers as we watch Dash and Jersee dip their chocolate chip cookies in ranch dressing, lick salt from the palms of their hands, and race Hot Wheel cars through perfectly placed fake snow on the window sill of the restaurant.  Laughing at their cuteness and realizing that the peace we feel with one is only temporary...

...Breathing in the smells of another late-night fire, a single glass of wine, and an episode or two of Mad Men.  The sights of the last piece of garland lit in the living room, a smoldering fire, and a simple prayer of thanks before bed. 

...Enjoying Saturday mornings in pajamas after yet another FULL NIGHT'S sleep, the (four) of us crowded in our bed, drinking bottomless cups of coffee and tea, and competing to see who can make Cruz smile more.  Mornings of laundry and groceries, as Beau reunites with his XBox and Cruz sleeps on his chest in the man cave downstairs. 

...Enjoying a tree trimming tradition on Saturday night, complete with potato soup and potato skins, pico de gallo and a Baby's First Christmas ornament.  Tiny mittens hung and popcorn strung, Frank Sinatra's serenade, and Elf in Espanol.  

...Relaxing in church with a baby who just feels like cuddling.  A batch of chocolate covered cherries, a clean fridge, and a Bears win. 

Cruz loved Thanksgiving.  He was awake most of the day Thursday, slept pretty much all of Friday, smiled all morning Saturday, and was lazy lazy on Sunday.  He had lots to say to his family members, especially his Grandpa Ray, and found his first fire to be one of the coolest things ever.  He chilled out under the Christmas tree, wore his snowsuit for the first time, and helped me string popcorn for his very own Christmas tree.  As the weekend winds down and I begin to look ahead to a busy week of preparing for Cruz's baptism on Sunday, I am overwhelmed with 'thanks.'  Thanks for a few more weeks at home before heading back to school, thanks for this little boy that seems to get more fun every day, and thanks for this new chapter of our lives that makes the holidays so special.  

My 'Bear' Bottom Boy...

Cruz has officially graduated from newborn sizes to 0-3!  Hello, cute Baby Gap pants!   

I love getting Cruz dressed in the morning.  Sometimes, while he's hanging out with Beau or sleeping in his crib, I'll sneak in his room and look through his closet and drawers, putting outfits together and rearranging his sizes.  His closet is chock-full of clothes and as quick as he grows out of it, I have to make sure he gets wear out of all of it.  The other day, I packed his newborn sizes into a storage box...that hurt a little to say the least.  As much cute 0-3 clothes as he has, I'm hoping he stays in this size for awhile! 



Decorating...

When I was a little girl, I would decorate my room for Christmas with a paper chain. Every year, I would tape piece after piece of red and green construction paper together to create my very own decoration that would help me count down the days of Christmas. I’d hang it from my window and every night, I’d tear off a single link and read a different Christmas book to my little brother. I remember pulling the books from the shelves, stacking them under my bed, and spending hours putting them in just the right order. I remember crawling into Taylor's bed, pulling the covers up to our chins, and reading to him as the outside Christmas lights reflected through the frosty window. I don’t know if Taylor remembers this little ritual I made him be a part of, but it was special to me.

This morning, I made another paper chain to hang in Cruz's window. We plopped in the middle of the living room floor amidst the remains of Christmas decorations I haven’t found a place for and taped piece after piece of construction paper together to create his very first decoration. We listened to Christmas music together and the twinkly lights of the tree put Cruz in a happy baby trance. 

As I watch him lay so peacefully next to the Christmas tree, working on his voice as if trying to sing along to the Christmas music, I am reminded how special this season is for our family. Before he’ll remember Santa and stockings, presents and wrappings, this Christmas is about enjoying the simple magic of this season. It’s about enjoying the blessings that overflow in abundance…

What’s in my cup this morning?

...Being home with Cruz. These are the days I will never get back, the days I will never forget.
...Watching Cruz discover his first glimpses of Christmas. I watched his eyes follow a string of Christmas lights as I strung them on the tree the other day. He was totally mesmerized.

...Nursing at four o'clock in the morning in front of the Christmas tree. The only thing that could make this better is snow falling out the window.

...Sushi and half-priced martinis with the girls last night. A husband that looks forward to his ‘guy’s night’ with Cruz and the twenty pictures he texted me throughout the night to ‘remind’ me of how cute they are.

...The look on Cruz’s face as he struggles to wake up in the mornings. His nursery seems as though it’s ten degrees warmer than the rest of the house and he always looks so snuggly in his crib.

...A full night’s sleep! Cruz slept through the night last night – 10-7:30! Sleeping through the night or late-night feedings in front of the Christmas tree?!?! It’s a gamble!

Thursday is Thanksgiving and I’m so excited for it. Cozy car rides home, and family time around the table. Snowsuits, stuffing, and tree decorating. Scouring the Target ads, wrapping the first present, and hanging a paper chain in our baby's room. And, most of all, sharing all that is Thanksgiving with a new little Cruz.

I’ve dreamed about this holiday season for a very long time.

Where thar is Cruz, thar are Pirates!

It all started with a joke about a pirate, a bar, and a steering wheel.  I'm really not sure if Beau had a love affair with pirates prior to this joke, but after a year or so of perfecting his pirate voice and getting rave reviews of his famous joke, Beau adored all things pirate.  Oftentimes, I would get home from work to find my husband, walking around the house with nothing but an eye patch and a bottle of rum.  Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit.  Beau's brother Gabe did give a toast at our wedding reception that ended with the entire room lifting their glasses and toasting with a great big 'yarrrrr.'  That, I am not making up. 

Ironically, about the time we found out we were having a baby boy, Baby Gap introduced a new line of boy's clothes, complete with skulls, crossbones, and pirate ships.  Other stores soon caught on to the growing trend and before too long, pirates were everywhere.  Williams Sonoma has an entire section of pirate birthday party decor.  We registered for a pirate ship night light at Pottery Barn.  And I just purchased 'A Pirate's Night Before Christmas,' at Barnes and Noble.  One of the first things Beau bought for his son was a little onesie with a skull on the front.  Yes, while little girls Cruz's age are dressed in lacy tights, ruffly dresses, and frilly headbands, our son chills in pirate ships.  He would wear an eye patch if he didn't have trouble focusing with two eyes as is. 

The other day, Cruz wore his first pirate outfit.  Together, we hung out on the living room floor and practiced our pirate talk.  I'd say he has a ways t'go! 

'til we dropped...

Today was Cruz’s first out-of-town adventure. I was itching to do some Christmas shopping at Jordan Creek Mall and surprisingly, my husband decided to come along for the ride. After going through his closet the other day, I realized he was in dire need of his once-a-year shop-a-thon. Beau and I balance each other out with our love and need for new clothes. I fill my closet a little (or a lot) at a time; Beau stocks up at Christmas time thanks to the women in his life. He’s resourceful and wears his favorites over and over and over again. This is evident in the fading, wearing, and tearing that is starting to show in even his ‘best.’ After introducing him to the idea of getting 45% off an entire purchase this weekend at the Gap, the idea of spending a Saturday traveling to Des Moines sounded slightly more appealing to him. So, we got up early, bundled up Cruz, and packed in the car for a sure to be adventure.

I guess Cruz isn’t totally his father’s son. While Beau attempted to give numerous pep-talks to our son about crying, pooping, and demanding my breast at all the worst times while shopping, it didn’t work. Cruz embraced all that was shopping and made this mama proud. Looking snug as a bug in his Bundle Me and new puppy hat from the Gap, Cruz slept the entire way there. When the bright lights and hustle and bustle of the busy mall woke him up, he loved all the stimulation. The louder it was, the brighter his eyes got. He sucked away on his pacifier and craned his neck as if to catch all of the commotion he could. And he was quite the show-stopper, and my attention seeking husband was enjoying every minute of it!

What to tuck away from this little day…

-The three of us hanging out in the handicapped dressing room at the Gap. Giving Cruz some leg time and listening to him give his father stamps of approval as he tried on lots of new clothes. I think Cruz and I enjoyed our time in the dressing room more than Beau did!

-Watching Beau put Cruz to sleep in the nursery recliner at Pottery Barn Kids. I knew we should have splurged and bought one of those chairs…

-Buy one, get one free at Starbucks. Waiting 45 minutes for two grande caramel lattes. Not regretting a thing after that first steamy sip.

-45% off an entire purchase at Gap. Mommy, daddy, and baby made out good…

-Family bathrooms at Jordan Creek Mall kick major butt. The set-up, especially the glider rocker in the nursing room, is just about as comfortable as your very own house. I always wanted to move into the mall…

-The look on Cruz’s face as we pushed him through the crowd of Christmas shoppers. His eyes were big and bright, his little hands were tucked up by his face, and he craned his little neck like a big boy to try and see as much as he could.

-Watching Beau and Cruz chill out on a bench in front of Bath and Body Works, people-watching and sharing in lots of new communication. Cruz recently discovered his voice and we can’t get enough of hearing that coo.

-Cruz’s first encounter with Santa Claus! As I was carrying him through the food court, I felt a soft tap on my back. I turned around and was greeted by the jolly one. With a twinkle in his eye (I’m not making this up), he peeked at Cruz and smiled in approval. I have a feeling Santa will be good to our little one this year!

In all the years I’ve been with Beau, I’ve tried to make him a shopper. And now, at just six weeks old, Cruz has fought and prevailed. Success!

It's that time of year again...

Yes, it's that time of year again.  My house looks like it's having an identity crisis.  Plump orange pumpkins are now fighting for air amidst boxes of red and green.  Soon, my beloved fall decorations will be wrapped, tissued, and stuffed in a box until next year.  My leafy garland will be replaced with evergreen, my pumpkins replaced with tiny Christmas trees, and my rock hard candy corn will finally be dumped and replaced with Christmas M&Ms.  I love my fall decorations and am always sad to see them go.  Although I love the magic that goes along with decorating for Christmas, I'll admit, like everything else around the holidays, it gets a little out of hand.  After a full day's worth of untangling mini lights, rummaging for the right extension cord, and straightening branch after branch after branch of evergreen, I'm usually tempted to keep the Christmas cheer in my house until Valentine's Day.  I used to have a neighbor that did that.  Everything would stay but the lights, which would be replaced with pink ones in order to accurately celebrate V-Day.  I used to think she was crazy, but maybe she was more practical than I thought...

This year, I have the advantage of taking on a different strategy when it comes to Christmas decorating.  Instead of attempting to tackle the abundance of rubbermaids in a single day during Thanksgiving break, I can work at it a little at a time.  This, I've decided is a perfect way to spend these days at home, especially since I'm getting used to working in 15-30 minute increments.  The other day, while Cruz lounged in his swing, I strung garland and lights on my front porch.  The next day, while he napped, I carefully adorned my fireplace mantle with some greenery.  And today, during some tummy time, I filled glass vases with ornaments.  Piece by piece is my strategy this season.

Our Christmas tree, however, will be saved for last.  Since we started dating, Beau and I have made a tradition of decorating the Christmas tree together.  We usually make some appetizers, pour some kind of fancy drink, and sort through more than two decades worth of Christmas ornaments.  A history lesson of our childhoods and relationship together always seems to unfold during this time...a time I can't wait to share with our son this year.

Christmas is about traditions, and I am so excited relive the old, as well as write some new with our little Cruz. 

Your dad...

What would we do without this guy?  I don't know how many times I have had this thought since you've been born.  And watching the two of you get to know each other over the past few weeks, it's easy to see that you are beginning to feel the same way I do. 

I think your blue eyes already light up a bit when you hear his voice as he comes through the door after a day at work.  You love when he marches around the house with you, singing silly songs to you about farting on your grandpa's head or your smelly umbilical cord.  Right now, you just stare really intently at his face, but I can already hear the giggles that will someday fill the air of our little abode.

I always knew Beau would be a great father, but I never imagined he would become an even better husband after becoming a father.  He's always been such a support to me, especially when I get a little "worked up," as he likes to call it, over the daily stresses and worries that I sometimes let get in the way of contentment.  Beau keeps me grounded.  He loves hard and gives me daily reminders that life doesn't always have to be taken so seriously.  This piece of advice has definitely been taken to heart since becoming a mom.  Whether we're crowded around the kitchen sink during bath time, or laying on the floor attempting to make you smile, I've learned there is nothing more important in the world than that time we have together.  The dirty bathroom, load of laundry, and Target run can all wait. 

During my pregnancy, I loved watching Beau prepare for you in his own little ways.  The pride and hard work he put into the baby furniture, the late nights he spent grappling for words on his baby-inspired blog, and the trips he took to Hampton to show his Gramma J a picture or share news from our latest doctor's appointment, were all signs showing just how important you were to him.  And now, a baby boy later, Beau has seamlessly transitioned into the dad role.  He comes home for lunch and makes your grandma and I grilled cheese and tomato soup.  He misses you when he's gone, cutting out of networking meetings early in order to rock you to sleep.  He calms you when you're fussy, and embraces diaper changes more than any dad I know.  His tender heart, sense of humor, and soothing spirit are the perfect combination for making these first weeks at home so special and memorable.   

I can't imagine anyone else in the world I would want to walk this new journey with.  And now, as I spend my days with my husband's little mini-me, I have daily reminders of how incredibly blessed I am to have these boys in my life. 
      

Playing house...

When I was a little girl, I had a Cabbage Patch baby named Hannah.  I loved this baby and treated her as if she was the real thing.  While my mom cared for my little brother, Taylor, I watched her every move and replicated it on my own little baby.  When I rocked her to sleep, I softly patted, then rubbed her back.  Every morning, I picked out the perfect outfit for her, took her to visit the library, grocery store, and shopping mall, and even filled little baby books with pictures of her, staged in various locations in and around our house.  I guess some things never change.

Now, I am a mom and although I'm living in the reality of raising a real life, living and breathing human, I still feel like I'm playing house sometimes.  Like today, after giving Cruz his first, four ounce bottle, we played for awhile on the floor, I rocked him to sleep, we cuddled on the couch, and then I laid him in his crib.  I quietly closed the door, then paced around the house, put on some Christmas music, and tip-toed in his room periodically to watch him sleep.

Playing house.

Or Saturday night, after a day of catching up with good friends, Beau and I stayed in, made a casserole, and watched movies, taking turns holding our spoiled one.  We cheered for him during tummy time, and laughed at the way he sleeps with both arms by his ears (aka, moosehead).  Then I swaddled, fed, and rocked Cruz to sleep and whispered, 'good night, dad,' as I walked by Beau on the way to Cruz's nursery.  The new dad gave his new son a kiss on the forehead and as Cruz cozied up in his crib, Beau and I shared some quiet time just the two of us.

Playing house.

Don't get me wrong...parenthood is not always this way.  Moments like this morning, as Cruz woke up instantly hungry, and I'm struggling to warm a bottle of breast milk, this time complete with one teaspoon of Karo Syrup in hopes of 'helping' Cruz learn the meaning of the book, 'Everyone Poops,' all while holding a hungry, screaming baby with one arm, trying my damnedest to keep his face out of the full sun streaming through the window over the sink, I would have put my baby doll, Hannah, away for awhile, and replaced her with a coloring book, a Polly Pocket, or a few Barbies.  Hannah's poops were imaginary and I never worried about constipation... 

Or Sunday, in the middle of church, attempting to acquire enough leg room in order to rock, bounce, pat, or do whatever was necessary to keep our little one content during a sermon that I maybe heard five minutes of.  Feeding Cruz a bottle during communion, all the while passing trays of grape juice down the pew, again with one hand, hoping to not spill on the wonderfully dressed, single woman beside me.  Laughing with Beau as we tried to conceal Cruz's very manly burps during the prayer.  Hannah never talked, cried, or burped during church.

This morning, as I was feeding Cruz, I watched an episode of Saved by the Bell, the one where Mr. Belding's wife gives birth to their first baby in an elevator during an earthquake.  I cried at the first sound of the baby cry.  The first image of a baby being born since my baby boy was born was on none other than Saved by the Bell.  And although the pushing, breathing, screaming, and nice and plump 'baby' on the tele was anything but realistic, it still brought back all kinds of realities of Cruz's birth day.  Perhaps the line between real and make believe isn't as wide as I once thought. 

Meanwhile...

Cruz has discovered that he really enjoys his tummy.  He'll work and work and work at tummy time a few times during the day.  Over and over again, he will lift his head up as high as he can and study the world around him with a look of complete focus and determination.  When he's tired, he'll slowly lay his head on the blanket and rest before starting the next round.  A few times, I've caught him falling asleep, but just when I'm about to move him, he'll lift his head up and start working those neck muscles again!  I could watch him do this for hours!

 

Say Cheese!

As most of you know, I like pictures.  I have twenty-six photo albums filled with pictures of Beau and I since we started dating, and I won't reveal how many pictures I've taken since Cruz has been born.  I try my best to capture every expression, every milestone, and every outfit...and with a newborn baby who can't quite focus his eyes on a single object, nor hold still for .5 seconds, this can be quite the challenge.  

Family pictures take on a whole new meaning with a bobble head baby!  When I look at these pictures, I have this weird feeling my son will not share my love of photography!