finding adventure.

Just one thing I love about my hubs:

I can find adventure with him anywhere it seems.

No need to go across the world when we have so much exploring to do right here.

(I mean- no need for now...)

Friends. 

Adventure is out there. 

Even in utah...

Hope you had an adventurous long weekend,

A little sister love...

I've always adored my sister. 

When I was a kid, I just followed her around wanting to be just like her. 

She began training in gymnastics. Next thing my parents knew, I was doing cartwheels all over the place. She liked the band u2. All of a sudden, I knew all of their songs (because clearly they were my favorite band as well). 

I would steal her shampoo, conditioner, 

and even would sneak her razor to shave my legs once in a while.

Whatever she did- I wanted to do it. 

Wherever she was- I wanted to be right there.

Then I went through a rebellious streak for a few years. I think around the time I turned 13, I realized how hard I tried to be mel- so I tried to do some things opposite. I still have some truly terrible country songs memorized, because I forced myself to listen to them over and over (since I knew melody definitely didn't like country...) 

After a while, it became clear that I wasn't really trying to be just like her. 

It was just that Melody and I were (are) so incredibly similar.

At least, I like to think so.

I don't usually believe in soul mates (for boys and girls). 

But I believe in soul sisters. And Melody is without a doubt mine. 

And I've made full circle I guess. 

My sister is a beautiful, strong, independent, crazy smart lady. 

And she has the most beautiful baby girl ever. 

And she's graduated. 

(with one masters degree in International Relations, and another one in Bio-Statsitics)

(sigh)

Graduated.

Yes. I want to be just like her all over again...

Love her with all I've got. Congrats beautiful.

dear mom,

Thank you for letting me hang out in your tummy for nine months.

 Thank you specifically for having me on such a lovely island.

People think I'm puerto rican, and even though its not really true,
I still enjoy it. 

Mom and Naomi 2012 

{She still looks like a hot (grand) mama to me...}

Thank you for your loving kindness to me 
and my siblings for the past thirty plus years. 

Thank you for bribing me to go to church when I was a kid.

Much thanks for teaching me how to be strong, ambitious

 and just independent enough to not be too boy-crazy. 

Thank you for teaching me how to be a lady by example. 

Thank you for showing me how to do my laundry, 

keep a tidy home, and follow recipes. 

Thank you for showing me how to buy crafts that look homemade. 

Thank you for taking me and my sister to europe while we were still in a really obnoxious age. 


Thank you for putting up with us kids during those long camping trips
 full of stinky feet, hungry tummys, and whiney mouths. 

Thank you for teaching me and mel how to come up with fun songs and inside jokes.

Thank you for not disowning me in general during my annoying teenage years. 

Many thanks to you (and dad) for showing me what real love looks like. 


Thanks for showing us that you can be blissfully happy without marble halls or palaces (as Anne of Green Gables would say...).
Um- Thank you SO much for introducing me to Anne of Green Gables
 (and all of the works by C.S. Lewis while we're on topic).


 I guess I'm saying thanks for teaching me how to read...

Thank you for teaching me that adventure never ends unless you let it. 

Thank you for teaching me that it is possible to be crazy skinny and attractive after five kids.

Thanks Mom (and Dad) for showing me that
you can always find a reason to be grateful 

(and often a reason to laugh). 

Thanks for sticking together through the ups and the downs,
and always making sure that we knew that you both loved us mucho. 

Thanks for the video chats, the phone calls,

 and the visits to and from home. 

Thanks for always making me laugh,
even when all I really want to do is to cry.

Thanks for showing me what things matter most. 

I owe you big time, Mom.

You're the best.

about love.

Hi, friends. 

Goodness, it's been an exhausting couple of days.

You know after finals how your body crashes? 

Mine has been on crash mode for what has seemed like an eternity.

  

This weekend I photographed the most lovely wedding, and as Gid and I drove up the beautiful idaho highway, I couldn't help but be grateful for him. Grateful for his support through the last year of school, grateful for his wise cracks when I'm feeling sorry for myself, and above all- grateful for his open arms ready and happy to take me in at any moment.

Gid had informed me that we'd be staying at a local motel the night before the wedding, and as we drove into the city, I looked it up on my iphone (he seemed to not really be sure where we were- so I was tryyying to help). I told him exactly the direction we needed to go, and even showed him the gps, but he wasn't showing much interest.

Finally he pulled into the driveway of the sweetest little bed and breakfast I'd ever seen. The sun was setting and cast this perfect  inviting glow on the lovely cottage. Gid smiled his warm smile, and I immediately knew that he'd made a surprise reservation.

I asked him what the occasion was (we don't usually stay at fancy places- especially if we're there for someone else), and his simple response was that we needed something special; a treat for finishing the first year of graduate school in one piece. (Barely.)

How I love him.

We had the most lovely stay. In fact, we had the place to ourselves. Terrific luck- the place was completely booked the night before and the night after- but the one night we stayed- it was just us.

 (the first course of our breakfast-- I didn't get a picture of the next one because I gobbled it up as fast as possible...)

Just what I needed after a crazy semester and right before a wedding job.

Often during weekends like these memories of my own wedding come sweeping in. As I photograph a beautiful bride getting ready, somehow I get transported back to the morning of my own wedding-- the present me staring (still holding a camera) at a younger version of myself applying mascara years ago on my wedding day. 

Goodness, how nervous I was.

I remember shaking. 

Being nauseous. 

Terrified and dreadfully excited all together.

As scared as I was to get married, loosing gideon was simply not an option. I'd decided I never wanted to say goodbye to him, and my mind was absolutely made. Thank goodness I snagged him when I did.

I was thinking about something while I photographed this wedding, friends. You know how sometimes when spouses get into fights something you often hear is, "he's just not the man I married..." or "I've fallen out of love with him..."?

As I look at Gid- I'm noticing more and more he's not quite the man I married. There are subtle differences that have developed over the last 2 1/2 years.

More tenderness in his eyes. 

Longer hugs. An incredible ability to listen, and to understand.

Also- He's gotten significantly funnier.

Oh- and I think he's gotten foxier.

I'm not sure the man I married would have booked the sweetest little bed and breakfast in idaho last minute just as a special treat. (Or would he have?)

I guess what I'm saying is that I love my husband more and more every day. 

Which means I'm not the girl he married either. 

At least I hope not. 

I hope I'm gaining the same qualities and characteristics he is.

Falling in love with him more and more every day.