6 Weeks

I took these photos at 6 weeks, just before we blessed Noah at church. It was beautiful and I cried. We named Noah with the biblical prophet in mind and Carter blessed our little boy that, though he would encounter opposition, especially in his religion, he would be blessed with the strength and determination to follow God's will. It was the best blessing I've ever heard.

I'm obsessed with his tiny fingers and toes! They're a bit of a trick to photograph though, because they are constantly moving. At 6 weeks Noah started to smile and coo. I can't even tell you what a godsend a baby smile is to a tired momma. Oh the validation!

Baby Love

My little sister, Alexa, truly is a godsend to my money-poor, photography-loving self. She has a natural talent  that cannot be denied and that I will wake up at 5 a.m. to sneak into an orchard and take pictures. Bless her talented heart.

These were all taken on a nice DSLR camera and then edited on my phone because I'm swag like that. Or because Photoshop is now a subscription service that I can't/won't pay for. Can anyone recommend a good, intuitive editing app for Mac?

Body Image

a Las Vegas vacation

It's true that Carter always tells me I am the perfect size. I don't believe him. He tells me I don't need to lose any weight and I still don't believe him. At first, I thought he was lying to keep me happy. When he convinced me that, in fact, he really believes it, I thought, "How can he not see what I see?" Cognitively, I know overall health should be the goal rather than losing weight; I even strive for it by exercising and eating moderately. And yet, I don't really believe it.

I never thought I had body image issues until I married Carter. I thought I was normal. I mean, I wasn't extreme dieting or throwing up in bathroom. Ultimately, the problem is that I am normal. When I think about where this 'normal' mode of thinking came from, I think about the girl in high school who only drank water at lunch to lose a few pounds, the middle school acquaintance mentioning that she liked lying on her back because it flattens her stomach, or the college neighbor who said all her problems would go away if she were skinny. Of course none of those girls were overweight, in fact they all looked just like me. Cue internalization.

People like to blame body image issues on Photoshop and Barbie but I played with and stopped playing with Barbie long before I thought about what I looked like. For all I knew she looked just like me. I didn't even realize people could visually tell I was a different race until middle school. And I started feeling fat long before Photoshop and the Internet were a thing. I think the fact I have several explicit memories of girls I knew talking about their body speaks volumes as to how society really perpetuates body image issues. Reading this letter to a mother about body image helped me understand it even more.

And so I guess this is a call to all girls to change, if not the way we think about our bodies, then the way we talk about our bodies. If all mothers and sisters and friends talked about the things they liked about their bodies instead of the things they didn't like, we could change an entire generation. Of all the things I want to give my baby, a healthy body image is a definite priority.

poolside, Las Vegas

A Christmas List

Usually I never read these wish lists blogs but I just couldn't resists making one! I honestly enjoy day-dreaming about my wish list more than I like actually acquiring the items in it. Anyway, here's what I'm currently dreaming about:

Sweater stone - 7

Conair curling wand - 30

Stickygrams - 15

Rainbow beanie - 30

Herbs and spices calendar - 16

Diamond terrarium - 90

Crystal wings necklace - 27

Delilah art print - 16

Agate bookends - 30

I'm currently obsessing over beanies. Anyone know of a place to find reasonably priced beanies? 

Do You Want to See Some Bridals?

Do you wanna?

Unsurprisingly, I'm much less obsessed with wedding pictures now that I have some of my own. It's a tragedy really, because I end up never looking at mine. We did have beautiful formals, but I wish they had been a little more Pacific Northwest giant pines and a little less Utah sagebrush. They have a very editorial feel, though.

Macy Makes My Day

October is Down's Syndrome Awareness Month! Did you know that 9 out of 10 women who find out that their child has Down's Syndrome will terminate the pregnancy? Does this news shock you? I bet most of these women never grew up in close proximity to someone with Down's Syndrome. If they had, then they would know that of course raising a child with DS comes with great difficulty (like any child) but it also comes with great joy! They would know that while Down's Syndrome children will never be developmentally perfect, they will still live full, happy lives. I think we should encourage more  women to keep their Down's Syndrome babies and see them as different, not damaged. 

Macy Makes My Day is an instagram created by a mother about her Down's Syndrome daughter, Macy. In her own words, she created the account because, "in this day and age with social media, we have endless opportunities to promote whatever the heck we want. And while social media may often be used for selfish and less than ideal purposes it's at my disposal to help the whole world see the beauty and gift that Down syndrome is." She adopted Macy as a baby and truly believes that parents of Down's Syndrome children are the blessed few. Some of Carter's family are looking to adopt a DS child and I think they would agree :) The portraits into Macy's life show a beautiful, vibrant, loving fashonista who only needed a chance at life to thrive. You absolutely have to look at her insta! She's adorable! Macy's mom also has a blog: Oh Macyn!

Summer Reads: Matterhorn

Graduating and just working part-time while I try to get my act together has left me with mountains of extra time. At first I wasted away my free time with the same reckless abandon I used in college. I mean, what if I never had another free moment to waste again? What if this was my last chance to mindlessly troll pinterest and facebook and dream about future renovations to hypothetical houses?

Several months later, I realize there is only so much time a week I can waste and still maintain my self-esteem. All of this is just to say that I am reading more and I started a food blog. Only Carter (and now the rest of the internet) knows that cooking and food occupy 30% of my daily thoughts. You should know, as an accurate estimation, 30% is A LOT of time and thoughts. It only barely falls under how often I think of Carter and rises far above the thoughts I devote to finding a full-time job. Being real here. My new food blog is called A Dash or Two and I focus on easy, fast recipes with uncompromised taste. Part of me wants to bury this blog in the depths of the Internet until I can perfect every recipe and word but in an effort for personal growth, I putting myself out there mistakes and all. It's a work in progress but take a look anyway and if you don’t now, don’t worry I’ll probably be spamming your facebooks and blogger in the future.

In other, aforementioned news, I am reading more. I should probably just get one of those Goodreads accounts but there are only so many social media sites a real human can join, hence:

Matterhorn: A Review

In the spirit of full disclosure, you probably will feel depressed at the end of Matterhorn. It is a fictional book set in the Vietnam War, though written by an actual Vietnam combat veteran based on his experiences. Aaaaand the language is way past borderline. BUT in its defense it entirely changed the way I view war. I want to share my favorite part of the book in which two soldiers are talking on the eve of a major and deadly battle:

“You think we go to heaven when we die?” Jermain asked.

“I don’t think nothin’. I believe Jesus take care of us when we die.” Cortell looked at Jermain. “Believin’s not thinkin’.”

Jermain took that in for a while. “What if you’re wrong?”

Cortell laughed. “What if you wrong? You been worse off than me all you life. I got the safe bet, not you.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe.”

“No, you just playing it safe and not choosin’. Jesus don’t want you to play safe. You don’t get anyplace if you don’t choose.”

“I don’t want to go nowhere but back to the world.”

“Yeah, I be right there with you,” Cortell said. He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Ever’one here think it easy for me. I be this good little church boy from Mississippi with my good little church-goin’ Mammy, and since I be this stupid country nigger with the big faith, I don’t have no troubles. Well, it just don’t work that way.” He paused. Jermain said nothing. “I see my friend Williams get ate by a tiger,” Cortell continued, “I see my friend Broyer get his face ripped off by a mine. What you think I do all night, sit around thankin’ Sweet Jesus? Raise my palms to sweet heaven and cry hallelujah? You know what I do? You know what do? I lose my heart.” Cortell’s throat suddenly tightened, strangling his words. “I lose my heart.” He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He exhaled and went on quietly, back in control. “I sit there and I don’t see any hope. Hope gone.” Cortell was seeing his dead friends. “Then the sky turn gray again in the east, and you know what I do? I choose all over again to keep believin’…It ain’t no easy thing.”

I LOVE that passage. I love that he describes faith as a choice. Unreligious people so often look at the religious and think that we are all brainwashed, somehow fooled by a mass delusion. What they don’t realize is that faith and hope is a choice, and it’s a choice everyday. Some days it’s easy to choose faith but other times it can be very, very hard. Isn’t that a beautiful passage?

THIS IS MY WEDDING DAY

If we're in the spirit of regrets and disappointments here then I could probably tell you that I wish I hadn't taken my mom's advice and that I had styled my own hair. I wish I would have ordered my dress in white so I could find some GLAMOROUS elbow-length gloves that would match. Annnnd if I'm being really honest than the venues and catering were also a bit much (did I say that???). But tell me, what's a wedding without a Bridezilla? really, tell me. is it nice?

In a different spirit (apparently a spirit of cliches), my wedding was also perfect, because I got married. As it turns out, weddings are not about flowers and cakes and perfect get-aways with sparklers. BREAKING NEWS. Despite my week of non-stop breakdowns, I floated on cloud nine all day. I was untouchable and it was magic.

In other breaking news, marriage is actually really great and not horrible and life-ruining. So that's been nice for me.

P.S. I usually retro-date my posts because the pressure of posting on time is oppressive, but I've always wondered how that works out with blogger. Do you see my posts come up in your feed on June 26th 2013 or December 15th 2012? Help a blogger out, will ya?

Carter and Whitney: An Engagement Story

In case I forgot to mention it, Carter and I were engaged. It preceded us getting married if you are confused about the timeline of my blog. I am fundamentally against time-constraints on the basis that we are eternal beings. Time is totally irrelevant. I mean, who will ever care in the future eternities that I'm late to church every Sunday? Who?

 

Man, I love that nail polish.

Carter's family vacationed in Canada in August 2012 and I joined them for the weekend. After six weeks apart we were more than happy to see each other. They stayed in a house on the inlet of the pacific ocean so Carter suggested we take the rowboat out and attempt to spot some of the sea seals he had been seeing earlier in the week. Carter rowed us around a bit but it ended up being too dark to see anything. I remember wondering why we didn't just row back and try again tomorrow. By the time Carter finally did row us back it was so dark we could only see by the light of the house shining off the shore, but I could see a point of light on the dock. I joked that there seemed to be people on the dock and that we shouldn't go over there or we might ruin their moment. I then joked that they might be robbers/murderers/bad people and that we should just land elsewhere, except I was only half joking and might have even begged Carter to stop until we could figure out what the unidentified object was. In any case, we did land on the dock and it turned out to be a lovely candle-lit dessert table that Carter had prearranged for us. Duh. This is an engagement story.

 I should interject here that I knew this was coming. We had gone ring shopping together the month before so when Carter suggested I come up for the weekend that was my first thought. Not to mention Carter started to breathe really heavily as we approached the dock. As I re-read that, that sounds borderline creepy but in reality it was pretty cute. Like, he was really nervous and unable to control his bodily functions. Cute, right? So it was all very romantic, except for me. I couldn't stop myself from ruining the moment...every moment. It was like an out-of-body experience where I could see from a vantage point that what I was doing was horribly wrong but mind and body weren't making any sort of connection. Carter went to tie up the boat and I kept insisting that I help even though he kept insisting that he only wanted to tie up one end ("Really, I can tie this. But really. I can"). He just dropped our life jackets on the dock and right before he got down on one knee I made us pick the life jackets back up and hang them on our chair. I don't know what can over me. All I can say in my defense is that I am really unromantic. They call me murderer of love.

Carter said some very nice things about me and then he got down on one knee and proposed. I said yes. He tried to put the ring on the wrong finger but we figured it out. It was a beautiful moment. Carter is easily my favorite person in the whole world. It is incredible how well made we are for one another.

In an alternate, yet perhaps more honest, ending to our proposal story, when I realized what was happening I almost asked Carter to stop. I almost made him get up from his knee and I almost asked him to propose on a different day because today, in that moment, I wasn't feeling it. I was scared and unsure because, after all people, this is marriage! MARRIAGE. As in an eternal covenant with God! So for an eternity - or half a second, I honestly wondered if 'yes' or 'no' was going to come out of my mouth. As it turns out, I said yes, because I loved him and I thought it might crush him if I said anything else. In a poetic way, I think that is a more fitting response to a marriage proposal but it wasn't exactly what I was expecting.

Even after I said yes, there were still lots of periods of indecision during our engagement. Lest anyone think I am confessing to marital unhappiness, I am head over heels for Carter and we are happier than we have ever been. Marrying Carter was the easily the best decision I've ever made in the most cliche way. I just wanted to relate a more truthful version of this story with the message that real-life true love is less about romance and more about sacrifice. And it's OK for times to be hard and decisions to be scary. It's life, after all.