Today, the 2 year old has bitten her mouth 3 times, in the same place.
There’s a big chunk of skin that is irritating her a lot.
I told her to say, “heal mouth, please” (and she says it in the cutest way!)
I can tell by how she holds her cheek every so sweetly that she understands what I’m telling her, that she already understands the power of communicating with her body.
I tell her: tell your body to heal and go to sleep and sleep all night and when you wake, it will be all better, the pain will be all gone.
She delights in this possibility and runs to her bed and cuddles her blanket to her chin, she reaches out for kisses and hugs, and as I walk away I hear her softly say: “heal mouff, p'ease”.
This makes me smile on every level possible. (And I cant wait to find out what she thinks and feels in the morning!)
She believes.
I’ve learned a lot about the bodies healing ability this past year.
I’ve been going on and on about “healing meditation” and how darn easy it is!
And I would never go on and on about something that I didn’t first test on myself, successfully.
I had back pain for most of my life, as well as knee and hip pain.
But now, since learning the healing meditation technique, I haven’t had many issues with either!
And if I do, I quickly do a meditation on it and it vanishes, either instantly or the next day (some serious pains require a deeper meditation before bed- some may even take a few days.)
I want my children to be aware of this power, harness it as early as possible. I want them to know that the body, as well as its self-regulated functions, also takes instruction from the mind, we can speed up the healing process by believing we can! (You must fully believe!)
I tell my 10 year old about it all the time, she’s does it whenever she’s hurting.
Now that my 2 year old understands, I will remind her during every pain she has as well.
It's empowering to feel your power!
How I “Combat” Depression…
The place I started was removing the idea of “combat” or “fight” or anything that will add defense and resistance.
Years ago, I would start out with the idea of fighting it… I’d threaten it: SCREW YOU DEPSRESSION I WILL FIGHT YOU TO THE DEATH (Its or mine? I could never tell.)
Even more years ago, I would hide the fact (ok, completely deny the fact…) that I was depressed.
Me?
Depressed?
NoooOOOOOooo!!!!....................... yes I was.
I tried so hard to pretend to be “normal” (whatever that is!) Act as if feeling like killing myself is a normal occurrence in everyone’s life and being angry at the state of my world was my “thing” … that it didn’t mean that I was depressed, I was just edgy! (pfft!)
Then one year I finally gave in and admitted there might be a problem. (I had a daughter, I needed to get out of bed and stop crying!)
My next question was: what the heck now?
For the first week or 4 I cried.
I cried and cried and cried.
I felt (almost-but not quite) every ounce of pain and despair that I had bottled up over the years.
I gave in to the tugging of my depression. Let it consume me. Went into it.
And soon enough, my tears were dried up… but I was still sniffling.
I sniffled my way to a doctor I didn’t know and sat as a lump on his chair and stated: I think there is something wrong with me.
The typical list of questions ensued and my answers poured out.
The honesty, which I had been hiding from any one and every one, started driveling out in snot and tears and gasps for air to this Doctor who had never seen me before.
He smiled (?) and decided I was depressed and had “Generalized Anxiety Disorder” (in other words: I was freaking out about everything and had no sense of who I was!)
He prescribed me pills. At first I was reluctant. I didn’t want that. I wanted someone to talk to, who would fix my thoughts.
I asked him could he refer me to a psychologist. He kinda brushed his hand and said the pills should be enough, but I could talk to Dr. So and So when he gives me the prescription, if I wanted.
Ok, I sobbed. I felt a little excited to be able to FINALLY talk about all the pain I had been carrying.
The next day I went to Dr. So and So and quickly felt uneasy when I walked in the door.
The environment was old and outdated and not welcoming (not a place that cared about my pain AT ALL!) There were people just handing him paper and he’d give them pills in return.
No one was talking.
My thoughts: WTF!?
I finally saw a real-life pill pusher! Sketched-out, lost people were lined up, not wanting to talk, waiting for refills.
THIS was NOT for me. But I took my pills and left. I decided to take it in to my own hands for a while. Just pills. Lets see if they work.
I was on them for 3 months, 3 long, shaky months. At first I thought they were working, but I began to realize I was just numb.
I went to talk to two other psychologists, both of which felt much too sterile and stuffy for me. I did not feel comfortable so I didn’t talk and didn’t go back.
I decided that pills were not helping and I didn’t want to be pumping myself full of the crap. So I stopped them. No easing off. Just stopped. By the end of the first day I had to call my mom to come take my daughter. She had her for almost a week. I lay in the fetal position and cried and didn’t eat and smoked and shook. (I gave up smoking after this ,too!) It was one heck of a week!
When I finally got back to a normal I could handle, my daughter came home, and I started reading. And sadly, starting using my friends as psychologists. I would talk and talk about all the pain, all the suffering, and all my analysis of myself, my life.
That got old. And didn’t help as much as I was hoping (and I’d say it annoyed the shit out of the people in my life at the time.)
The reading helped, and I read a LOT. But it still wasn’t enough. For the next couple of years I started hunting for someone or something that I could release to. Searching obsessively for someone I could feel comfortable and safe with.
My first year of university I got excited about one of the schools psychologists I had met during an exam, he was babysitting us. He seemed so nice, so real, funny and he looked like he cared! I was excited. But sadly, it was a university, with thousands of stressed out students needing advice and listening to, he was much too booked up and I needed much more time than once every two weeks- MUCH more (...a lot of pain in there!) My hunt continued.
It took a long time. Luckily I was dealing quite well with the ups and downs of depression. I was a little bit more aware of it and all the readings were giving me tools to use when it hit, so it wasn’t as devastating as it used to be.
It was only one year ago that I found a true outlet. A place lead by a wonderfully receptive, supportive, and caring woman, Meranda Squires.
She ran the YES program (Yoga Enlightenment Studies). It was through the inner work and the sharing with her and the others in the group that I went deep into the roots of my depression and deep into all the reading I had done and finally got in touch in ways I had been searching for.
A place where I felt safe to share, to open up and to love myself. It helped me be honest with myself and others. That when I am feeling depressed, I’m not going to hide it and act as if I am a super hero. I’m going to go into it. I’m going to cry when I need to cry and I’m going to tell people that I’m crying and know it’s ok.
Being open about the truth of it all might help other people be open about their own pain and discomfort.
However, the YES program has ended for this year. And after going so deep into so many things, apart of me feels like I’ve picked old scabs and they are still bleeding from the edges now.
This time, this last month, when depression hit, I went into it.
I went in deeper than I have in years. I am missing my YES weekends, if I had a YES weekend this month I could've released so much of it there. But I don’t. I can’t. So I released it by driving for 6 hours on the highway, at night, in a rainstorm and fog, with moose crossing signs, a million transport trucks AND I was texting- without a seat belt on! And I didn’t die. (This proves to me that we die when we are ready to die, circumstances aren’t always the cause.) I felt a sense of risk, which helped. I felt a sense of being in the moment, in control- which also helped. I felt a sense of love for my family and pets sweep into my heart and dry up some of those tears. I meditated. I wasn’t scared and I cried and I stopped crying. And the next day, I felt much better, tired, but much better.
This September I start Yoga Teacher Training at the Lotus center. I’m excited. I think this will be a beautiful way to connect with my inner self and become more centered and better equip to deal with depression when it hits (and much less dangerous than late night highway driving!) I know yoga will help, it helps me now and I hardly have a clue what I’m doing yet!
It will also help me help other people, which is apart of my life's purpose (which I discovered with truth during YES).
I’ll end by quoting a family member: depression is not a choice, and we have no say in when it comes and goes, all we can do is cope with it while its here.♥
Truer words were probably spoken, but these are pretty true as well ;)
Years ago, I would start out with the idea of fighting it… I’d threaten it: SCREW YOU DEPSRESSION I WILL FIGHT YOU TO THE DEATH (Its or mine? I could never tell.)
Even more years ago, I would hide the fact (ok, completely deny the fact…) that I was depressed.
Me?
Depressed?
NoooOOOOOooo!!!!....................... yes I was.
I tried so hard to pretend to be “normal” (whatever that is!) Act as if feeling like killing myself is a normal occurrence in everyone’s life and being angry at the state of my world was my “thing” … that it didn’t mean that I was depressed, I was just edgy! (pfft!)
Then one year I finally gave in and admitted there might be a problem. (I had a daughter, I needed to get out of bed and stop crying!)
My next question was: what the heck now?
For the first week or 4 I cried.
I cried and cried and cried.
I felt (almost-but not quite) every ounce of pain and despair that I had bottled up over the years.
I gave in to the tugging of my depression. Let it consume me. Went into it.
And soon enough, my tears were dried up… but I was still sniffling.
I sniffled my way to a doctor I didn’t know and sat as a lump on his chair and stated: I think there is something wrong with me.
The typical list of questions ensued and my answers poured out.
The honesty, which I had been hiding from any one and every one, started driveling out in snot and tears and gasps for air to this Doctor who had never seen me before.
He smiled (?) and decided I was depressed and had “Generalized Anxiety Disorder” (in other words: I was freaking out about everything and had no sense of who I was!)
He prescribed me pills. At first I was reluctant. I didn’t want that. I wanted someone to talk to, who would fix my thoughts.
I asked him could he refer me to a psychologist. He kinda brushed his hand and said the pills should be enough, but I could talk to Dr. So and So when he gives me the prescription, if I wanted.
Ok, I sobbed. I felt a little excited to be able to FINALLY talk about all the pain I had been carrying.
The next day I went to Dr. So and So and quickly felt uneasy when I walked in the door.
The environment was old and outdated and not welcoming (not a place that cared about my pain AT ALL!) There were people just handing him paper and he’d give them pills in return.
No one was talking.
My thoughts: WTF!?
I finally saw a real-life pill pusher! Sketched-out, lost people were lined up, not wanting to talk, waiting for refills.
THIS was NOT for me. But I took my pills and left. I decided to take it in to my own hands for a while. Just pills. Lets see if they work.
I was on them for 3 months, 3 long, shaky months. At first I thought they were working, but I began to realize I was just numb.
I went to talk to two other psychologists, both of which felt much too sterile and stuffy for me. I did not feel comfortable so I didn’t talk and didn’t go back.
I decided that pills were not helping and I didn’t want to be pumping myself full of the crap. So I stopped them. No easing off. Just stopped. By the end of the first day I had to call my mom to come take my daughter. She had her for almost a week. I lay in the fetal position and cried and didn’t eat and smoked and shook. (I gave up smoking after this ,too!) It was one heck of a week!
When I finally got back to a normal I could handle, my daughter came home, and I started reading. And sadly, starting using my friends as psychologists. I would talk and talk about all the pain, all the suffering, and all my analysis of myself, my life.
That got old. And didn’t help as much as I was hoping (and I’d say it annoyed the shit out of the people in my life at the time.)
The reading helped, and I read a LOT. But it still wasn’t enough. For the next couple of years I started hunting for someone or something that I could release to. Searching obsessively for someone I could feel comfortable and safe with.
My first year of university I got excited about one of the schools psychologists I had met during an exam, he was babysitting us. He seemed so nice, so real, funny and he looked like he cared! I was excited. But sadly, it was a university, with thousands of stressed out students needing advice and listening to, he was much too booked up and I needed much more time than once every two weeks- MUCH more (...a lot of pain in there!) My hunt continued.
It took a long time. Luckily I was dealing quite well with the ups and downs of depression. I was a little bit more aware of it and all the readings were giving me tools to use when it hit, so it wasn’t as devastating as it used to be.
It was only one year ago that I found a true outlet. A place lead by a wonderfully receptive, supportive, and caring woman, Meranda Squires.
She ran the YES program (Yoga Enlightenment Studies). It was through the inner work and the sharing with her and the others in the group that I went deep into the roots of my depression and deep into all the reading I had done and finally got in touch in ways I had been searching for.
A place where I felt safe to share, to open up and to love myself. It helped me be honest with myself and others. That when I am feeling depressed, I’m not going to hide it and act as if I am a super hero. I’m going to go into it. I’m going to cry when I need to cry and I’m going to tell people that I’m crying and know it’s ok.
Being open about the truth of it all might help other people be open about their own pain and discomfort.
However, the YES program has ended for this year. And after going so deep into so many things, apart of me feels like I’ve picked old scabs and they are still bleeding from the edges now.
This time, this last month, when depression hit, I went into it.
I went in deeper than I have in years. I am missing my YES weekends, if I had a YES weekend this month I could've released so much of it there. But I don’t. I can’t. So I released it by driving for 6 hours on the highway, at night, in a rainstorm and fog, with moose crossing signs, a million transport trucks AND I was texting- without a seat belt on! And I didn’t die. (This proves to me that we die when we are ready to die, circumstances aren’t always the cause.) I felt a sense of risk, which helped. I felt a sense of being in the moment, in control- which also helped. I felt a sense of love for my family and pets sweep into my heart and dry up some of those tears. I meditated. I wasn’t scared and I cried and I stopped crying. And the next day, I felt much better, tired, but much better.
This September I start Yoga Teacher Training at the Lotus center. I’m excited. I think this will be a beautiful way to connect with my inner self and become more centered and better equip to deal with depression when it hits (and much less dangerous than late night highway driving!) I know yoga will help, it helps me now and I hardly have a clue what I’m doing yet!
It will also help me help other people, which is apart of my life's purpose (which I discovered with truth during YES).
I’ll end by quoting a family member: depression is not a choice, and we have no say in when it comes and goes, all we can do is cope with it while its here.♥
Truer words were probably spoken, but these are pretty true as well ;)
I also have a (newly formed!) green thumb!!
Check out the start of my new passion-- growing things!
I have always loved plants and had futuristic dreams of being able to not kill my own garden-y things and actually grow things to eat! (There was a time when I thought: growing food to eat only happened on big farms and by supper market suppliers--not in my own house or backyard!)
I have always wanted to grow my own food, and after doing the Yoga Enlightenment Studies program last year, which taught me about the importance and the power in growing our own foods on our own lands, I decided to get at it, more seriously, once and for all! (I already had my apple, pear and pomegranate trees started before I started the YES program, it just strengthened my passion!) I hope to have enough land someday to grow miles (and greenhouses full) of food and flowers!
For now, I will start in my kitchen (while waiting patiently for my love to build me a greenhouse this week (right!? this week!? ;)
Here is a table full of things:
There are lots of different things here: 2 tomato plants, a hot pepper plant, 10 or so cucumber sprouts, rattle snake beans, carrots, an apple tree & a pear tree (both grown from seeds from an apple and a pear I ate!) and a couple of flowers and plants (not good with their names! lol Though, one is a 3-leaf clover!).
And here is my pomegranate tree (also grown from a pomegranate i ate!) (And I'm certain this must be the 1st pomegranate tree in Newfoundland, if someone else knows of one, please let me know! :)
(much taller than a gatoraide bottle...the bottle is a little bit out of scale because it's further up the table, but you get an idea!)
The following pic is a plant we bought that pretty near died after I re-planted it in a larger pot (it only has little roots, so it dehydrated in the soil, unable to reach its water! i felt bad.. poor lil thing!) BUT! With high hopes of saving it, I repotted it in a smaller pot (while expressing much love and hope for it while doing so!)
And here it is! The last elder of the bunch (hung-over from exhaustion of trying to stay alive for so long!) & the 1st little newborn sprouting up to show me: its LIFE WILL GO ON!)
(I swear, seeing these 2 teeny-little leaves poking through the soil today sprung forth emotions resembling the ones that I experienced by frist seeing my two newborn daughters faces... it was that: "OH MY BABY! IM SO GLAD YOU ARE HERE!" feeling... ;)
I love growing things! I cant wait to eat the ones we can eat (the ones that actually grow things edible!)
This is only the beginning... <3
I have always loved plants and had futuristic dreams of being able to not kill my own garden-y things and actually grow things to eat! (There was a time when I thought: growing food to eat only happened on big farms and by supper market suppliers--not in my own house or backyard!)
I have always wanted to grow my own food, and after doing the Yoga Enlightenment Studies program last year, which taught me about the importance and the power in growing our own foods on our own lands, I decided to get at it, more seriously, once and for all! (I already had my apple, pear and pomegranate trees started before I started the YES program, it just strengthened my passion!) I hope to have enough land someday to grow miles (and greenhouses full) of food and flowers!
For now, I will start in my kitchen (while waiting patiently for my love to build me a greenhouse this week (right!? this week!? ;)
Here is a table full of things:
And here is my pomegranate tree (also grown from a pomegranate i ate!) (And I'm certain this must be the 1st pomegranate tree in Newfoundland, if someone else knows of one, please let me know! :)
The following pic is a plant we bought that pretty near died after I re-planted it in a larger pot (it only has little roots, so it dehydrated in the soil, unable to reach its water! i felt bad.. poor lil thing!) BUT! With high hopes of saving it, I repotted it in a smaller pot (while expressing much love and hope for it while doing so!)
(I swear, seeing these 2 teeny-little leaves poking through the soil today sprung forth emotions resembling the ones that I experienced by frist seeing my two newborn daughters faces... it was that: "OH MY BABY! IM SO GLAD YOU ARE HERE!" feeling... ;)
I love growing things! I cant wait to eat the ones we can eat (the ones that actually grow things edible!)
This is only the beginning... <3
green thumb? maybe...
But i certainly had a blue thumb for a while...
blue thumb?...
... THUMBS DOWN!
Awesome black-now-blue patio chairs and table?...
THUMSB UP!!
(ok, so this was originally a "thumbs down" shot, I flipped it to show the love for the blue chair ;) *love*
(note: the spray paint came off with a lot'o scrubbing and a lot'o dish detergent!)
love summer days of at-home projects!
blue thumb?...
Awesome black-now-blue patio chairs and table?...
THUMSB UP!!
(note: the spray paint came off with a lot'o scrubbing and a lot'o dish detergent!)
love summer days of at-home projects!
spider pics
I wrote a piece a while ago called: i dont kill bugs... (here: http://overzealousblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-dont-kill-bugs.html).
And, in it, I mentioned that in order to rid my fear of spiders I had to first begin to look at them "from A distance and on the internet"... from there, I realized, I had to also begin taking pics of them... so I could view them up-closer and see them in real life, while at the same time completely eliminating the possibility of one of them jumping on my face and laying thousands of eggs in my nose (they can't do that from a photo I'm CERTAIN! It's a good place to start!)
Bees and spiders are my favourite bugs, spiders because they were something I once feared intensely (insanely!) and, to me, they represent the ability to evolve past my own irrational fears... if I can love them after despising them for so long, then I can evolve past my other limiting thoughts and fears!
I took a few pictures over the last few days, and wanted to show the spiders some love and acceptance...(as if letting them live anywhere outside (and for the most part:) inside my house wasn't enough!)...
The first 5 photos were taking of a spider that was hanging in our entrance way.. (and yes, after taking a couple of pics, I let it go wherever it wanted (I didn't squat it, nor did I shoo it outside ;)
(Can you find it? It climbed really far away... Its web started at the bottom step- it took over the entire stairs!)
(Lookit the speck ;)
(Wonder how long it was in that fixture?)
This spider was in the window, caught it mid-climb...
(To me, there is something so inspiring about this picture, I think it's beautiful.)
And, in it, I mentioned that in order to rid my fear of spiders I had to first begin to look at them "from A distance and on the internet"... from there, I realized, I had to also begin taking pics of them... so I could view them up-closer and see them in real life, while at the same time completely eliminating the possibility of one of them jumping on my face and laying thousands of eggs in my nose (they can't do that from a photo I'm CERTAIN! It's a good place to start!)
Bees and spiders are my favourite bugs, spiders because they were something I once feared intensely (insanely!) and, to me, they represent the ability to evolve past my own irrational fears... if I can love them after despising them for so long, then I can evolve past my other limiting thoughts and fears!
I took a few pictures over the last few days, and wanted to show the spiders some love and acceptance...(as if letting them live anywhere outside (and for the most part:) inside my house wasn't enough!)...
The first 5 photos were taking of a spider that was hanging in our entrance way.. (and yes, after taking a couple of pics, I let it go wherever it wanted (I didn't squat it, nor did I shoo it outside ;)
This spider was in the window, caught it mid-climb...
I am so confident in my physical ability, that I jump rocks on a beach with a 2 yr old in my arms. (yes this is one long title.)
I am confident in my ability to do that and do it safely and efficiently while looking at it for what it is: a beautiful bonding moment, a nature-ful meditation (for both of us!), as well as a great workout and a chance to be next to the ocean with my family!
How can that not be safe?
I know it’s up to me if it’s safe or not. I just have to stay conscious and mindful of my body and trust its reflexes (and watch out for wet rocks, slimy seaweed, protruding drift wood, and make sure I’m wearing hiking boots with wicked-awesome traction: CHECK, CHECK, CHECK AND CHECK!)
Most people, or at least, some people, would say that jumping rocks while holding a two-year old is much too “dangerous” and “totally crazy” and “wtf is wrong with that mother??”
(!!!DANGER!!!)
It seems like anything is deemed “crazy” if it is different and more difficult from what is considered “the norm” of how people should react and interact with a two year old. If it appears dangerous and poses risk of injury or death, then some people expect others to: AVOID AT ALL COSTS!
(DONT GET OUT OF BED, THERE'S DANGER OUT THERE!!)
Though, that’s a pretty good rule of thumb, for like car seats and maybe babies on motorcycles, or for anyone in a situation where they think, yeah: I could hurt the 2-yr old or myself, doing that, so I shouldn’t do it. (like if it was a rainy day, I wouldn’t jump rocks with her in my arms… because then the risk is something slightly out of my control… I haven’t figured out how to maneuver the human body to not slip off a slippery rock while jumping at a pretty significant speed---—yet.) And putting her on a motorcycle or holing her in my arms while driving also poses possible events out of my control: other drivers and vehicle malfunction!
But that sunny day, the rocks were dry and the sky was blue. Safe enough for me!
We had so much fun and got lots of fresh air and had lots of bonding time! (I ignored the one puzzled look I got from a person walking “safely” on the path. ;)
How can that not be safe?
I know it’s up to me if it’s safe or not. I just have to stay conscious and mindful of my body and trust its reflexes (and watch out for wet rocks, slimy seaweed, protruding drift wood, and make sure I’m wearing hiking boots with wicked-awesome traction: CHECK, CHECK, CHECK AND CHECK!)
Most people, or at least, some people, would say that jumping rocks while holding a two-year old is much too “dangerous” and “totally crazy” and “wtf is wrong with that mother??”
It seems like anything is deemed “crazy” if it is different and more difficult from what is considered “the norm” of how people should react and interact with a two year old. If it appears dangerous and poses risk of injury or death, then some people expect others to: AVOID AT ALL COSTS!
(DONT GET OUT OF BED, THERE'S DANGER OUT THERE!!)
Though, that’s a pretty good rule of thumb, for like car seats and maybe babies on motorcycles, or for anyone in a situation where they think, yeah: I could hurt the 2-yr old or myself, doing that, so I shouldn’t do it. (like if it was a rainy day, I wouldn’t jump rocks with her in my arms… because then the risk is something slightly out of my control… I haven’t figured out how to maneuver the human body to not slip off a slippery rock while jumping at a pretty significant speed---—yet.) And putting her on a motorcycle or holing her in my arms while driving also poses possible events out of my control: other drivers and vehicle malfunction!
But that sunny day, the rocks were dry and the sky was blue. Safe enough for me!
We had so much fun and got lots of fresh air and had lots of bonding time! (I ignored the one puzzled look I got from a person walking “safely” on the path. ;)
OverZealous Wedding Shoot! {Rachel & Damien}
It really took a lot of pressure off having the bride herself say: Oh don't worry too much, as long as you get one or two good shots, we'll be happy! (that's really a photographers dream, at least, for me it was!)
I was worried, this was my first semi-professional shoot... what if I didnt get ANY good shots for them!?
I worry too much.
They are beautiful people! Full of love and smiles! How could I NOT get any good shots!? (Plus the backdrops were stunning, a lot to work with!)
Here are some of my fave shots of the day:
(The beautiful couple!)
(Just the girls!)
(A full family shot!)
(Love the ocean-themed shots!)
(Gorgeous couple by the water!)
(I made them kiss a lot ;)
(Wedding party by the beautiful rock wall.)
(Hovering over them on a 4 foot wall was worth it! lol)
(This photo looks so old fashioned.. I love it!)
(Her bouquet was beautiful!!)
{Thank you Rachel and Damien! I had a wonderful time with you and your family! Congratulations!}
I was worried, this was my first semi-professional shoot... what if I didnt get ANY good shots for them!?
I worry too much.
They are beautiful people! Full of love and smiles! How could I NOT get any good shots!? (Plus the backdrops were stunning, a lot to work with!)
Here are some of my fave shots of the day:
(The beautiful couple!)
(Just the girls!)
(A full family shot!)
(Love the ocean-themed shots!)
(Gorgeous couple by the water!)
(I made them kiss a lot ;)
(Wedding party by the beautiful rock wall.)
(Hovering over them on a 4 foot wall was worth it! lol)
(This photo looks so old fashioned.. I love it!)
(Her bouquet was beautiful!!)
{Thank you Rachel and Damien! I had a wonderful time with you and your family! Congratulations!}
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