On the days when I haven't been dead on my feet these last few months, my good friend Mollie Wetta (also a photographer) and I have been working on co-launching a really special project near and dear to both of us.

 

At a park playdate way back in the fall last year we decided to start I Carry Your Heart, a collective blog for photographers that wanted to share along with us what it feels like to watch each of our babies grow...and what it looks like from behind the camera.  This stage of motherhood is fleeting, and we all feel like we need to be more accountable taking pictures of what inspires us daily to go out and create beautiful photographs for our clients and often times is the reason we started shooting in the first place, our own families in our own homes. 

I would love for you to spend just a few minutes today checking out the work of some amazing photographers that have agreed to be a part of this journey with us in 2015.  There were a handful of us that started posting at the very beginning of January to get the logistics finalized for the blog, 

and this week we've added such incredible talent. 

I cannot say it enough (in fact I think I've written it in emails probably seven times already since we've gotten this blog up and running earlier this month), but I am so touched and moved by this project and love what it has done for me personally in terms of 

photographing my own two tots right now.  

And did you think I was making up the part about Henry and Nelle sneaking chocolates under the dining room table in yesterday's post?  

 

You should have known I was telling the truth because 

a)I bet you could guess who was the ring leader behind the escapade, 

and b)I don't joke about chocolate.

My inspiration for sharing on I Carry Your Heart this week.

 

xoxo

I read somewhere that when you are pregnant with your first, you check every day for your bump to start showing, 

and it eventually does...way later than you think it will (18 weeks with Ham).

With your second, the bump pops much sooner, and you think you will be HUGE by the time you give birth, 

but it all evens out as the pregnancy goes along (12 weeks with Nelle).

And with your third, you walk out of the bathroom with a positive pregnancy test and pop.

The bump.

I'm just over 12 weeks in this picture, but I've been trying to suck this belly in for weeks now.  

It doesn't cooperate.

I've felt really good overall, just feeling naueous a handful of times, and it quickly passed with either some food or rest.  

Oh my gosh, rest.

It's my drug of choice.  I am so exhausted. 

I survive day-to-day thinking about the next time I will be able to sleep.  Naptime?  Early bedtime?  5:30pm when Andrew gets home?  

Will anyone notice if I just close my eyes while I lay here on this couch and the kids sneak Hershey Kisses under the dining room table?  Maybe Franklin, but he's not talking.

My parents were here the first part of this week, and they took care of the kids this morning so I could sleep in a bit.  

It was the equivalent to Christmas morning for me. 

So. Amazing.

They also came two weeks ago when I got a nasty stomach bug that almost landed me in the hopsital with severe dehydration until Andrew forced Gatorade down my throat for three hours straight.  Thank goodness for parents that drive two hours to go buy me popsicles when Andrew couldn't take off any more work, and thank goodness for husbands that come home right away when you call and say, "I just threw up four times."  And that's it.

--

I know we're not even quite a third of the way in with this little bean, but Andrew and I are both for SURE this little bug is a boy.  Of course we're not finding out because I just love the suspense, and speculation, but mostly the surprise.  But we were hanging out last week after the kids went to bed, and we just turned and looked at each other and said, "this one's a boy."  To which I responded, "I've never been surer than anything in my life."

We've disagreed on the first two predictions.  Andrew's always been right.

So if this baby is a girl...

...I mean, it's not, so nothing to discuss there.

What I do know for 100% sure is I daydream about snuggling another little newborn, and I just melt already.  

I know August will come quickly, and we will be ready and at the same time won't be ready, but I am for sure ready for that. 

I don't know how it will be done, or who will be sharing rooms, or if we'll even be in this house, 

or how I'll ever get out of a house again regardless of which one it is, or if three car seats will fit on the bench of my Tahoe, 

or who to put in the middle of the bench to "help"/not bother the other two, or if we'll ever get a real night's sleep again, 

or if we will even have time to feed ourselves, or if our groceries will fit in the cart with two toddlers and a newborn, 

or how we. will. even. just survive.

BUT WE'RE HAVING ANOTHER BABY!!

We're having another mouth to feed, another baby to hold, ten more toes to count, ten more fingers to grasp, another heart to love, another person to shape and mold, another life to watch unfold, another soul to nurture, one more pair of lips to kiss, another one to shh shh shh in the middle of the night, another helpless body to swaddle, another gift from God, another little bum to wipe, another smile to see, another laugh to hear.

We're having another baby.

And we are all (all?) thrilled!!!

xoxo

One night last week, after Andrew and I had gotten ready for bed, checked on the littles, and slipped between the cool sheets and heavy pile of covers for the night, he asked me what my favorite part of my day was.  I kind of thought he was being a bit facetious because it had been one of those days that would have leaned on the pendulum towards tougher vs easier.  It was really for the most part fine until about 4:45 when I was trying to start dinner, and typical to just lately, Nelle hits her wall and instead of being my sweet, happy, easy-to-please girl, turns into leg-clinger and whine/crier until we eat dinner.  Which is never soon enough, especially when dinner takes longer to make with a baby on your leg.  13 months is tough on a girl.  Andrew had gotten home after the kids were in bed the day before, and he was later than normal on this day too, and by the time he arrived,
I was waving my white flag.  

Actually, if I'm being honest, I think my words to him via iPhone were

eta?

leaving now.

Good, because we are circling the drain.

I'm pretty sure that's what every husband wants to hear as he gets ready to head home after a long day at his job to another marathon of the most excited, glorious greeting ever from his biggest fans, dinner, baths, books, bedtimes, cleaning the kitchen, picking up toys, and then finally relaxing.

Every day people.

So, I wasn't ready for his question, but even after a hard couple of hours at the end of the day, I could still think of something.  Pretty quickly really.

After we eaten lunch that day, and by we, I mean Henry and Nelle
because you know they get their food eaten almost always before I've even plopped down with mine,
they went into the other room to play, and I watched them from the table as I ate, trying to be a fly on the wall because they were playing. 
Together.
 "pick me upppppp" face and hands


And no one had gotten pushed over.  And no one was crying.

They were both sitting in front of the toy cabinet, and Nelle was trying her hardest to make her babble into coherence, and Henry was babbling back at her, trying his hardest to talk as mumbled jumbled as possible because that's what he does when he gets excited.

I'd call it a conversation.

Yeah!

A conversation.

They were sharing toys, and both getting new toys out, and laughing together, and it was just the perfect moment of calm I needed to regroup.

And finish my lunch.

--

Then I asked Andrew what his favorite part of the day was, and it was playing "fumble" as Henry calls football these days on the floor which is essentially Henry running as fast as he can with his K-State football and flinging himself as hard as he can onto your body.  Over and over again.
The kid doesn't do anything halfway.

Except this game was special because there was a special post-game show, aka Henry and Andrew taking turns blowing on Nelle's belly, producing a symphony of fart noises and belly laughs from all involved.

--

So. The moral of the story.

They're the best part of our day.  Every day.

The thought of nine hours of driving to get to San Antonio for the Alamo Bowl kind of made me want to dismiss the idea 

of Andrew and I's quick getaway, but then I thought about it again.

And all of a sudden, it was like, nine hours in the car?  By ourselves?  

With no kids in the backseat to entertain, feed, change, dress, schedule naps, etc.? 

I quickly changed my tune. 

Nine hours is still along way, but so worth it.  I took a nap and read a book from start to finish.  

That wasn't a children's book.  Or a book about raising kids.

I feel like I started 2015 as a new woman!

 

We just had the best time walking through the city, eating enough Tex Mex to last me for a month, 

and even cheering on the Cats despite the loss and the dreary rainy, cold weather.

>> Side note - sorry Cat fans.  The only bowl game we haven't been to in the last four years was last year when Nelle was about three weeks old...and we won.  The other three, well, we take full responsibility for the losses as we are clearly bad luck, and someone stop us next time we want to travel to a bowl game so we can get another post-season W. <<

We stayed at The Valencia which is just about two blocks off of the Riverwalk on Houston street, and it was just such a lovely hotel.  The TexMex restaurant next door had the best homemade flour tortillas I've ever tasted.  My mouth is watering a little bit rigiht now just thinking about them.

 

And we grabbed breakfast to go from Sip, the cutest juice/coffee bar right outside the front door of our hotel both mornings.  They had the yummiest homemade muffins and delicious hot cocoa.  And I only know because Andrew hates coffee and refuses to try and learn to like it.  

It works out for both of us.

 

Can I just mention how amazing it is to walk around a strange city and see purple literally everywhere you go?  I think we saw maybe 50 UCLA fans the entire trip.  I just love K-State so much and how they instill such a sense of family with this football program.  

 I don't think that you even got me...did you get me in the picture?  Ummm, yes.  Open your eyes.

 

I traveled to San Antonio with my family when I was pretty young so I don't really remember it, but Andrew had never been, and it was really fun getting to explore the city's downtown together and spending some time just the two-of-us.  I missed our little babes by lunch as we were driving down to the city, but the time is so worth it to get away.  

 

Henry got really sad as we were finishing up packing on Thursday morning, and I'm pretty sure he was biting his lower lip so he wouldn't cry.  

He said, "I want to go wifff you, Dada!" so then of course Andrew promised he could go with us on our next trip.

 

I have a feeling that will be more of a trip than a vacation, but I'm still really, really looking forward to it.