Little purple alien calls for week-long binge + you’re invited

The 20-year-old me would cringe at this purple, wrinkled, alien-like creature.

The 30-year-old me wept as he was placed on my bare belly, his slate eyes opening for the first time, that wailing newborn sound.

I cried Oxytocin-induced tears of bliss.

But today? It’s tears of heartache.

Because it was the last time I’ll ever experience cradling a baby, my baby, for the first time.

I’ll never feel gymnastics in my basketball-shaped belly again.

I’ll never have a newborn again. Because three Butte boys? Is already trouble.

It’s the end of my “firsts,” and the beginning of my “lasts.”

The last pink & blue striped hospital hat.

The last chicken strips, fries and chocolate pudding hospital meal.

The last ginormous plastic cup with bendy straw and St. James logo cup.

The last terrifying first bath.

The last hospital band with matching parental numbers to prevent the kind of baby mix-ups you see on daytime soap opera’s (like when Nicole swaps Sami & EJ’s baby for another’s on Days of Our Lives)

And today? Is my “last” first day back to work from maternity leave.

And although it saddens me to leave my little purple alien off with my parents, my husband and daycare, I have the itch.

No, not the kind of itch that ends with you telling the checkout clerk, “it’s not for me, it’s for my friend.”

The kind of itch you get when you’ve been away from your coffee IV for 24 hours.

The shakes.

The tiredness.

The inability to concentrate.

The withdrawals.

But my addiction?

Isn’t coffee (debatable).

It’s the drag of the mirror as I click the shutter on my Nikon.

6 weeks is a long time off the wagon.

And for me?

It’s time for a week-long photo binge.

And you’re invited.


What is a 7-Day Photo Binge?

7 days of photo prompts to capture the things you don’t want to forget.

The way your husband throws your daughter over his shoulders.

The last baby fat on your 2-year-old.

The way your son squeezes your hand when he says he loves you.

The innocent laughter of your 12-year-old daughter before she turns into a teen.

The way your 4-year-old always puts his Car’s flip-flops on the wrong feet.


You don’t need a fancy camera – your cell phone will do.

You won’t have to think up ideas all on your own – I’ll do the heavy lifting for you to make it a piece of cake.

All you need?

Is yourself. Any camera. And 5 minutes per day.

Signup Here

Class starts Monday August 3rd!

P.S. I’m going to be THAT annoying mom and share photos of my new baby Oliver (my other two sons actually call him “new baby” because we took so long to decide on a name).

P.P.S. Isn’t he the cutest baby you’ve seen? I mean, I know he’s mine and all….but come on!

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