For the longest time, I had a hideous pair of rain boots. But I didn’t care because…well, I don’t care about much other than staying dry when it’s raining. But Sean made such a big deal about the UGLY BOOTS. Every time it rained, he would avoid being seen in public with me because I’d be wearing “those things.” They weren’t even categorized as boots–he would call them things. Like, they weren’t even worthy of being dubbed as boots by the man who wears hideous flannel EVERY SINGLE DAY. God forbid I have one item that doesn’t meet his lumberjack fashion standards. It’s almost like someone wearing Crocs critisizing the Prada shoes you’re wearing. It’s like…”Um, seriously?!?” (and now I’ve angered the Croc wearers)

So, finally after a few years, I sprung for new boots. Sleek, black rain boots. And I have to say…I don’t feel frumpy and gross now when it’s raining. For about a week I sat, staring out the window hoping for rain so I could wear these boots. And then I got my wish. And I got it again. And then it rained every single day last week, including Saturday when I had to shoot a wedding. And all I can say, is THANK GOD I had some rain boots that I could wear for work with dress pants. In this ONE CASE, maybe…just maybe…Sean was right.

The new boots:

The old boots:

Let me start by saying that the only reason this post is in the weekly style section is because of the dress Adelynn is wearing in the photo. My mom made it and it is SO FREAKING CUTE that it had to be highlighted. Let’s take a moment to ooooh and aaaaah.

Ok, so now onto the story–

A couple of weeks ago I visited home for my sister’s 30th birthday where I got to spend some quality time with my adorable niece. I mean seriously…have you seen the smile? It melts my heart. That is, when my ears aren’t bleeding from her screaming. She’s not so good with the word “no.”

I was watching Adelynn for my sister (Bridget) so that she could shower and get dressed, blow-dry her hair and ultimately do all those things that those of us “childless” folk take for granted. Because apparently for my sister, getting a chance to put on makeup and do her hair is the equivalent to waking up next to Clive Owen drizzled in chocolate after someone wallpapered her house with 100 dollar bills. IT WAS THAT EXCITING!

So, my sweet sister looked lovely. And clean. And I’m sitting on the floor next to Adelynn when all of a sudden she gets a weird look on her face and starts staring at me. And I look back, wary, and say to her, “Addie, do you have to poop?” And she’s squatting and nodding, a pained expression on her face–which I think we can all empathize with.

I know Bridget is beginning to potty-train, but I’m a little lost in that department, so I figured I’d just let her do her thing and I’d handle the diaper later. All of a sudden I see a stream of poop running down Adelynn’s leg, staining the nice white carpet and my poor niece starts screaming, “Poopie, Cayeen! Poopie!”. I pick her up and throw her down on the changing table. Bridget comes running in upon hearing those ominous poop-filled screams and she takes over my position as I was about to take the diaper off.

As my sister slides the diaper off of Adelynn’s legs, projectile poop comes flying into her face. I mean, this kid may as well have been throwing poop around the room. The stuff was everywhere by the time she was finished and all the while she’s crying, “Poopie, Mommy, poopie!”

After all the excitement was said and done, we all got cleaned up; scrubbed the rug, the changing table, showered, changed our clothes again. And just as my sister and I flopped ourselves down onto the couch, Bridget’s husband, Adam walked through the door. Adelynn ran to him and he picked her up, asking: “Adelynn, what did you get Mommy for her birthday?”

She smiled coyly and pointed to both of us and simply answered: “Poopie.”

She sure did.

This is Gracie…my family’s dog and my dog throughout most of college. She now lives with my parents because she would not have adjusted to city life very well. Of course, if it had come down to it, I would have taken her with me, but she bonded with my parents and loved their backyard–and as much as it broke my heart, I didn’t think it was fair to her to take that away. Sure, she would have adjusted to city life…but she wouldn’t have been nearly as happy as she is with my parents. Besides, they have the money to spoil her ROTTEN. This dog gets pig ears like EVERY DAY with them.

Back in college, I was living across the hall from Liza and Maddie, who back then had no fear of dogs. I have no idea what happened to this kid, but she’s terrified of them now! And she used to call Gracie “Wacie”. She’d come toddling into my apartment and wake me up at 7am…on a Saturday…Liza’s revenge to me for teaching her ‘nipple’ probably…and go, “Where’s Wacie? Where’s Wacie Aunt Cayeen?”  And when she found Gracie, she’d throw her arms around the dog’s neck as Gracie covered her face in slobbery kisses. They were totally buddies. Except for when Gracie would chew Maddie’s toys…on those days you would have thought the kid swallowed battery acid by the way she reacted. Like it was THE END OF THE WORLD BECAUSE OH MY GOD YOU GOT SLOBBER ON THE BARBIE DOLL. Never mind the fact that you shared an ice cream cone with the dog minutes ago because HOW WILL MALIBU BARBIE SURVIVE WITH SLOBBER IN HER HAIR.

In any case, Maddie still asks about Gracie and it seems like the only dog she thinks of fondly anymore.

When I was home visiting, I took some portraits of Gracie…because, let’s face it, she’s getting old. Her hip is bad and she can barely walk the stairs down to the yard anymore. Sometimes we have to carry her down there. And while this would under most circumstances cause most dogs to become cranky and tired-not my Gracie. She still plays with the youth and vigor she did when she was only a puppy. And it makes me smile.

I bought this awesome traveling light box to help in taking photographs. And, well, I’m kind of an idiot and when I was ordering it online, I thought that the perfect size would be about 2-2.5 feet. It would be ideal for product and food photography. Only…I screwed up my math. I ordered a 48 inch light box thinking that was 2 feet. I know, I know…I admit it. I’m dumb.

BUT I think it turned out for the better, anyway. Because now I can photograph babies and dogs and even people in this box…as long as those people are sitting.

This was day one with the box…Luna jumped right in and was fascinated by the light above her.

Red, on the other hand, thought this was some form of punishment and was all: WHY ARE YOU PUTTING ME INTO THE EVIL CAGE OF LIGHT?? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?  And I could have listed numerous things beginning with eating Luna’s food every time I turn my back to the marathon sessions of licking his butt….but I refrained and after one photo let him off the hook.

Melissa and Brent decided to elope in Strawberry Fields a few weeks ago. They were married by this really sweet woman (I believe her name was Beth) from Corliss Lamont. She is an officiant for “humanist weddings” and she was so lovely. I couldn’t hear all of her speech because I was moving around so much, but the parts I heard were really genuine and beautiful. You can find her at www.corliss-lamont.org/

Melissa and Brent had a really intimate ceremony, just them, Beth and myself as the photographer and witness. But after they kissed and were proclaimed as Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, we all noticed that a huge crowd had gathered and was surrounding Melissa and Brent from across the lake…and they all started clapping. It was straight out of a romantic movie!

This is Joanna…an eager and enthusiastic young actress. She and I had a headshot session last Monday (Yes, Monday…the day with 12 inches of snow!) and the poor girl was freezing. We had to do them in 5-10 minute intervals so she could bundle back up in her coat and warm up.

Now THAT’S dedication.