Category: Ashley

Confessions Of…

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Hooper

You guessed it, another post about my adventures with puree. Here’s what I made Hooper the other morning. This mixture lasted for four servings and he loved it. It included: 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two kiwis

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cherries, Strawberries, Raspberries

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bowl of Spinach

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Butternut Squash

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cauliflower

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two Bananas
And, as always, the result:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s Hooper giving me an ovation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Old Pics for the New Year

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Holiday, Hooper
Everyone tells you how fast time seems to fly when you get older. The speed seems to pick up somewhere in the mid-twenties and before you know it, you’re thirty and marveling at how fast the last ten years have gone. Childhood doesn’t seem to do us any favors in this category. Doesn’t it seem like childhood moved at snails pace? I remember summer vacations seemingly lasting forever. Now each day rolls into the next and with no distinguishable break, time just keeps on a’ truckin’.
When you have a baby, everyone tells you how fast they grow and change. These same people remind you to enjoy it. To soak it all in. But the truth is, I spent the last year enjoying our family and soaking in all the changes and excitement and well, it just isn’t enough. What they don’t tell is no matter how much you relish in the moment, the moments pass too quickly.
I imagine the sock monster that hides in the dryer and devotes his life to rearranging pairs of cotton booties must also hide behind clocks and play with those little dials when we’re not looking.
Because time moves too fast.
This past year, I’ve watched my baby grow into a boy. He started the year as a googly eyed bobble head and is closing the year out as a bull in a china shop with a mind all his own. See, it’s not only that time goes fast, it’s also that within a short amount of time a lot of change takes place. Imagine learning to roll, sit, crawl, walk, and run all in the same year. Imagine going from breastfeeding to spoon feeding yourself. A child’s development is incredible.
Anyway, here’s some of my favorite Hooper shots from 2011. I better put my running shoes on in 2012 if I have any aspirations of capturing the blur that is to be next year. And trust me, I do have aspirations.
Happy New Year!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Style de Hooper

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Hooper

I’ve been inspired by James at Bleubird Vintage who does several posts of her and her extra adorable family and what they wore. Willy and I don’t pride ourselves much on our rather mundane and boring style, so I’ve left us out of this post and am directing your attention to Hooper, who is rockin’ this snazzy vintage look today. 1970’s called and is asking that Hooper join them on the court.
Shirt: Health Tex Tennis T, purchased on Ebay
Shorts: From Etsy seller, Little Reader Vintage
Shoes: Classic Converse

 


My Son, The Stick Carrier

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Hooper
Before we even talk about this latest obsession, can we talk about all the crap on the floor. I swear I keep our house fairly clean. It feels like I am picking up stuff off the floor constantly. There is only one excuse and it’s a very valid one: A 13 month old lives here. And there he is, with part of a baseboard in one hand and a shower curtain rod in the other.
Now, onto this obsession. Note again all those toys on the floor. I see books, a xylophone, records, a tin top, a ball, a wooden car, even a plastic container of pepper by his feet. But that baseboard and shower curtain rod trump everything. And it doesn’t stop there. He’s also into the swiffer, the broom, golf clubs. You get the idea. Anything long and thin. Not sure what to make of all this. What I do know is that he got toys, lots and lots of toys, for Christmas but spent much of the afternoon roaming around with a mop and broom.

Note Sarah in the background, fearful for her safety. She’s not so dumb after all…

But apparently I’m the one in danger.
Is this a typical stage? Does your one year old choose the broom over the book? Or is my little boy a future javelin thrower?

11 Weeks

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Pregnancy
Back acne is in, have you heard? Yup, you better go out and find the nearest 16 year old and rub up against their face in hope that it just may be contagious. That’s how in it is. I had no skin issues with my first pregnancy. In fact, I recall not having a single pimple anywhere for the entire 9 months. That’s why I think this baby is a girl. There is an old wive’s tale that links acne with girls, right? Something like they steal your beauty. Buh humbug. I also didn’t have any nausea with my first pregnancy and though it seems to have come and gone already, I did have some evening sickness this time around. I ate so logically with Hooper. I ate what was good for me, even if I didn’t care for it. Not this time around. I eat much more emotionally. I make excuses like, “oh that doesn’t sound good to me”… But what I should say is that sounds good for me, but not to me. I keep making the promise that today I am going to start eating more logically and less emotionally. More signs pointing to a girl, perhaps?
Willy insisted on knowing the sex with our first pregnancy. And in all honesty, I was pretty excited to know too even though I always imagined it to be a surprise. This time around, I’ve insisted on getting my surprise. But part of me wants to know oh so bad.
Did you find out the sex of your baby before birth? Is the surprise worth it?

Then & Now, Survival Time

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Then & Now
Friends of ours are new parents. Emmerson is a few days old and we met her the other day. It quickly reminded me of our early days with Hooper.
Oh how Hooper cried. As parents, and new parents at that, we tried our whole grab bag of tricks to figure out why: Is he cold? Is he wet? Did he poo? Is he hungry? Then we tried adding a blanket, changing his diaper that was hardly soiled, or offering more milk even though it seems like he just came off my raw, cracked, and tender nipple. Come on new moms, you know you feel me on this. Anyway, by the time we would reach the bottom of our grab bag, chances are Hooper would be asleep. Not so much because of the interventions we tried, but because he was a newborn, and therefore good at shut eye (intermittently, of course). Sometimes I think all the things we try are really to make us feel better because it just pains us too much as new moms to watch our new little bundle of joy “suffer” in any way. But truth is, babies cry. Who knows why. I imagine that womb is quite the cozy place and I suppose there is some adjustment period warranted.
Oh how Hooper pooped. Actually, as a newborn Hooper had something quite different than what I’ve come to know poop to be. His poop was far from solid, far from dark brown, and smelled like shit that came out instead as throw up out of a homeless mans mouth. I was reminded of this when we turned Emmerson onto her belly for a few more photos and heard an explosion in her diaper. And then I was thankful when I didn’t have to change it.
Remind me again of a dad’s role in caring for a newborn? Is this question harsh? Am I going to get hate mail for what I am insinuating in asking this? In my experience as a breast feeding mom, much of the responsibility fell on me. Don’t get me wrong, Willy wanted to help. And he wanted to bond. It was hard for him not to play as big of a role as he had envisioned and hard for me to take on a role I expected to be much more shared. This is why I’ve come to coin the first month with a newborn as survival time. People can say how magical and loving and special those first few weeks are and in no way would I disagree with them. There is all that too. But it’s hard. I will never lie about that.
Anyway, I snapped a few shots of Emmerson. It wasn’t easy. I had forgotten all about how to position a newborn, not to mention the explosion. In any event, there will be many Emmerson photo shoots in the near future.
One photo had an uncanny resemblance to a picture of Hooper when he too was just a few days old. It brought back memories of our own survival time.

A California Christmas

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Holiday
I woke up early Christmas morning. I suppose there was a smidgen of residual excitement left over from childhood. Anticipation of pulling back the covers, feeling the cool winter air, and stepping out to the family room with bed head intact to admire all the packages awaiting to be opened under the tree. Only this year we don’t have a tree. Not a real one anyway. A tinsel tree. Because we have a one year old that will grab, pull, and potentially eat all those tiny pine needles. And also a dog that’s scared of just about, well, just about everything. There was no cool winter air either, I think it was in the upper 70’s here in sunny SoCal.
Back to waking up early.
It was 7:30am and I peeked over at Willy. I saw him itch his chinny chin chin and thought ah-ha!, he’s awake!… So I gave his shoulder a little tickle. He pulled his pillow over his face and gave me a sarcastic and ever-so-cute buh humbug. I chuckled, laid there for a few more moments, and reflected on just how lucky I am.
This Christmas I am incredibly grateful for this little family we’ve made. A loving husband and an always entertaining little boy. They are my purpose in life. My constant reminders of what’s beautiful and meaningful.
There may not be a real tree, but there is real love in this little home of ours this Christmas morning.
Here’s a few photos from our day, though it should be aforementioned I’m not the best at photographing holidays. I like to enjoy them 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Side note: I know you’re wondering about those festive sneakers. Those are my grandma’s and they are nothing short of ffffaaaannnntastic. She’s upset because they “don’t make them anymore”. My Christmas gift to her next year: a recreation. I’ll be stocking up on snazzy jewels and glue. 
How did you spend your Christmas?

The Highchair Series, The Jolly Edition

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Holiday, Hooper, Photography

Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas!

Really mom? Another photo shoot in my highchair? Can I go play?




































I guess it’s kinda silly since I have this Santa hat on n’ all…

What’s Sarah doing over there?

Any chance you can crop my nipples out of this one mom?

Oh dear Lord, help me.

Fine. I submit.

Wait a second! Wait just a second!




































I have hands. I can take this thing off.

Shoots over.

10 Weeks

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Pregnancy

 

 

 

Has pregnancy sensitivity (this should be a diagnosed condition) officially set it? I’ve been looking for a new pair of black leggings. Seems like an easy feat, right? My current pair work good with tunics and dresses, but require a censor (if you know what I mean) when wearing anything that reveals the boo-tay or ha-ha region. So we were out shopping last night for last minute Christmas stuff. Yes, I am that person despite my promise not to be each year. I saw the maternity store, the store I down-right-refused to enter with my first pregnancy. I made it my goal the first time around to make normal clothes work. And I did. I think there was one exception: A wedding at 35 weeks and well, nothing fit. Anyway, enter the maternity store. First annoying question/assumption: “I’m sure you shopped with us the first time around (she’s glancing at Hooper), riiiight?” Okay, now this is awkward because I reply, “Nope”. She’s eager to show me everything in the store, simultaneously pointing out all the wonderful Holiday sales, yada yada yada. I just want leggings. Truth be told, not even specifically maternity leggings. Just leggings that don’t require a censor. She finally takes me to the leggings section, pointing out they are buy one get one half off. Blah, blah, blah. I just need one pair. She confirms that they require no censor, so I’m sold. Ready to get the heck out of this store. She rings me up. Forty two dollars. FORTY TWO DOLLARS?! Now I’m regretting having not looked at the price tag and making the assumption that all leggings are somewhere in the $20 or under range. Apparently the censor costs $22. The wheels of annoyance are spinning harder now that I realize I’ll be having to make another trip back to this dreaded establishment to return forty dollar leggings. Then she does a little look over her shoulder to be sure my husband can’t hear, tilts her head to the side, and whispers, “How are you doing on stretch mark cream?” Pregnancy sensitivity. It needs to be a diagnosis people! See, I know she’s trying to be nice but I feel offended. What I feel like saying is: “Lady, I’m ten weeks pregnant first of all. You see my 13 month old in the stroller second of all. Shit hasn’t started stretching that much yet and shit has already been stretched before.” I politely say no thank you and leave with a newly established down-right-refusal to go the maternity store route again.
Am I crazy? Too sensitive? Do you remember being sensitive during your pregnancies? I think I will compile a list of things you don’t say or ask to pregnant woman. I remember someone asking me when I was pregnant with Hooper if I was having twins. Just for the record, there is some ridiculous 2% chance or something of having twins. As a stranger, why take that 2% chance of being right when you have a 98% chance of offending someone? Pregnancy sensitivity.

Confessions of…

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Hooper

Here’s what I made Hooper for breakfast the other morning. I was able to freeze some, so I think this lasted for about 3 or 4 servings. He wasn’t as crazy about this mix as the others, but I think the missing banana is the culprit. Note to self: always include banana. Either way, so long as I add a cheerio with each bite, he’s game. Here’s what I included:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hurry up mom, I’m hungry and I’m going to grab at your legs until you feed me, dammit!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And here’s the result:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the clean up, compliments of Sarah:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Highchair Series

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Hooper, Photography
I have a thing with highchairs. Okay, not really with highchairs, per say. More like against highchairs. And their bulkiness. And their gaudiness. So when we set out to decide on a highchair, we were looking for something simple and non-obstructing. I liked the Stokke Tripp Trapp chair… until I saw the price. Their whole premise revolves around the child eating at the table with you, in addition to the chair growing with the child. Then I saw this picture:

And thought: unt-aw, no soiree, not my child. Hooper will not be that over sized dorky kid still in a highchair at that age. So, I clung onto their other premise of having the child eat at the table with the parents. No bulky tray involved here. And I liked that premise. But again, the price. Ouch. So I stuck with the premise and looked instead at restaurant style highchairs and found just that, for $40. At Target.
Not only does it fit our home stylistically, but it also has become one of my favorite places to photograph Hooper. He’s contained, for one. And occupied with food, for two. And I can position it wherever I want, allowing for optimal lighting and background, for three. And by golly, those combined make for a successful photo shoot for an otherwise room wrecking, dog terrorizing, pulling-on-moms-pants one-year-old.
I present to you: The Highchair Series.

Music Madness

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Hooper
This little boy LOVES music. I recall documenting in his baby book early on, around two months, that music was the one thing that would soothe him. I didn’t think much of it then because I presumed it was something typical for his age. I didn’t realize it would stick. And evolve.
But it has.
We have a radio in the bathroom, above the toilet. Yesterday morning he prompted me to follow him in to the bathroom. I did. He proceeded to whine and point to the stereo and then he broke out into a little booty bounce, signaling that he wanted the music on to dance. I obliged. He danced.
Today he walked over to the record player and played with the knobs. Then he walked back to me and in the same fashion, pointed to the record player, whined, and broke out into a little booty bounce. On went the record, down went that booty to the floor.
I love music. I feel music. I’m touched and motivated by music. It warms my heart that me may just be the same way.
The best part? My mom saved many of the records she played for us as kids. They are now in my possession and I couldn’t be more thrilled. The graphics are great, the tunes nostalgic. Today, a dance party is in session.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Santa… Mama & Papa Edition

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Holiday
I’m not gonna lie… It was much easier to put together a Christmas list for Hooper. It’s funny how thinking about ourselves becomes an afterthought when you become a mom or dad. I mean look at our list… It has something for the dog and a trash can. Yes, a trash can for goodness sakes! Anyway, this is all we can muster up…

1. Denver Nuggets retro jersey
2. Double trash can (We have a bear, named Hooper, that has been getting into the recycling bin. Non. Stop.) source
3. Led Zeppelin’s House of the Holy & Grateful Dead’s The Best Of, both on Vinyl
4. Vintage glasses from Etsy seller Vintagerous
5. Canon 24-70mm f.2.8… Let a girl dream… source
6. Dog bowl from Etsy seller ModPet
7. Tool chest (Can’t wait to get some of the tools out of the office desk drawers)
8. Gap Skinny Maternity Jeans source
9. Bullet Planter source
10. Not pictured: A new kitchen and a beautifully landscaped backyard would be peeeeeeerrrfect.

Just Go With It

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Hooper
Sometimes pulling Hooper away from everything becomes too draining. Especially with this new-human-growing-fatigue. I hate saying “No” as much as I presume he hates hearing it. We baby proof as we go. The lastest thing we did was to move all the potted plants outdoors. It became too much work to be constantly vacuuming up the dirt and picking up the rocks and washing his hands and chasing after him and oh ya, lets not forget the following:
Note the guilty, “Who me?” face. Gotta love it. Is getting mad at my children always going to be this hard??
The one thing we haven’t figured out is what to do with Sarah’s food. We’ve toyed with leaving it outside, but it’s not ideal and we haven’t gotten to the end our ropes… yet. Anyway, back to going with it. I saw him eyeing Sarah’s food. I decided to let him touch it. My thinking is that if I just let him play with it, maybe he’ll get over it. Touch it he did. Here’s a play by play:
Oh yes, I love to dig my hands in this yummy food.
Maybe I should try a piece. 
Yes, I will try a piece. Yum.
Now I’m thirsty. Oh good, there’s water.
What will happen if I put the food into the water?
My my, look at this mess I’ve made!
Better clean up before mom finds me.
All clean.
Sometimes making the mess and cleaning it up is just more fun. It’s a life lesson I suppose, if we make a mess, we have to clean it up. If you never make a mess, you can’t understand the true value of cleanliness. Look at me getting all philosophical. Off to sit on my rock and rest my chin on my hand and my elbow on my knee.