My arms and heart are so full of love for my beautiful children. My children make this life so beautiful. It’s beautiful –not sexy. So what in the world was I thinking when I agreed to take part in a special blogger event at a boudoir photography studio?
Maybe I should turn around. My palms get sweatier by the minute and I begin to feel my body going into full panic mode. I take a sip of water to combat the cottonmouth that has set in and I try to calm my nerves by turning up the radio in my car. Holy s#!+, I’m so freaking nervous! I should turn around and go back home. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking?
This. This is me. Right now my life consists of waking up before everyone else so I can pump and relieve my engorged breasts. I assemble countless peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and meals that will ignite some sort of complaint or tantrum. Baskets of laundry waiting to be folded never seem to leave my dining room chair, and dishes line my kitchen countertop. I chauffeur my children to sports and birthday parties and doctor appointments. My clothes are adorned with baby spit-up and drool. And I’m lucky if I get the cloth diapers in the dryer before midnight so they are ready to be placed on the baby’s cute little bottom by morning.
This is my life right now. My arms and heart are so full of love for my beautiful children. My children make this life so beautiful. It’s beautiful –not sexy. So what in the world was I thinking when I agreed to take part in a special blogger event at a boudoir photography studio?
Seriously, I should just turn around and go home where I belong. I should be wearing spit-up on my t-shirt right now instead of slipping into sexy lingerie, right? Wrong. I’m so glad I didn’t turn my car around that night. I’m so glad I stepped out of my comfort zone because I was reminded that being a mom is more than spit-up, and tantrums, and getting up at 6:00 a.m. to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Being a mom is also about feeling comfortable and confident in who you are as a woman. And sometimes you need an amazing and total out-of-your-comfort-zone experience at a boudoir photography studio to remember that. I know I did.
The Pixies Photography Experience
When I walked into Pixies Photography, I was super relieved to see that I already knew most of the bloggers who had signed up for the boudoir photography event at the studio. And when Pixies founders Kelly and Stephanie offered me a glass of wine, I was double relieved! Yes, I’d love a glass of wine before getting in front of the camera!
We started our night out with some wine, snacks and a tour of the studio to get familiar with the types of settings, props and poses that Kelly and Stephanie use when shooting. I was impressed with how classy the studio space looked and immediately began to feel much more comfortable with what I was about to do. One thing I greatly appreciated was how Stephanie and Kelly turned our fears and reservations about boudoir photography into excitement to get in front of the camera. They were so easy to talk to and their passion for making every client feel beautiful and confident was undeniable.
After our tour, it was time to get ready for our mini photoshoots. Some girls brought their own lingerie, but I couldn’t wait to choose something from Pixies Photography’s wide selection of sexy undergarments. Since I was four months postpartum, I decided to go with a flattering chemise and a pair of my own favorite black heels that I hadn’t worn in years. Then it was time for hair and makeup. Yes, they do your hair and makeup for you! While teasing your hair and wearing fake lashes may not be your thing (it certainly isn’t mine), I was extremely pleased with how the whole look turned out in my photos.
I’ll admit the glass of wine made it a little easier to get in front of the camera when it was my turn for my mini shoot, but when it was time to pose, I suddenly felt a rush of confidence. Stephanie and Kelly guided me through my poses, and they were so encouraging. I felt beautiful, sexy, and proud of myself for allowing myself to do something for me.
My experience at Pixies Photography was exactly what I needed to help me climb out of my baby blues funk. Unfortunately, it’s taken me two months to write about my experience. I’m nervous to share with others that I did this, but at the same time, I want for so many other women I know to have this experience too. This experience is more than just feeling sexy for an evening. It’s more than just experiencing the thrill of doing something out of your comfort zone. It’s about seeing yourself as a beautiful and confident woman. It’s about carrying this experience with you in your next step tomorrow, whether it be in high heels or bare feet. Because there is so much more to you than spit-up, and tantrums, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And while your kids definitely don’t need to know that you had your photos taken while wearing only lingerie, they do need to see that you are confident and comfortable with your body just the way it is.
Your Experience at Pixies Photography
I had my amazing experience at the studio, and now it’s time for you to enjoy your own experience at Pixies! I have a special gift to share with you.
For only $149 you get to enjoy the Silver Package (plus more!) at Pixies which includes:
- Choice of wardrobe
- Choice of set
- Professional hair, makeup, and lashes
- Multiple guided poses
- Approximately 50 proofs to choose from
- An 11×17 12 month/6 photo calendar (a $155 value by itself!)
Mention code: Feb169 when booking your appointment to get this special deal!
My experience was important to me because I am getting used to my new postpartum body after having my third baby, but the other bloggers who attended the event had powerful experiences too. Read more about their personal experiences at Pixies Photography here:
Darcie at Gust Gab
Jamie at Toys in the Dryer
Lisa at Twin Cities Frugal Mom
Jen at Wonderfully Unkempt
I remember the days when it was just you like they were only yesterday. But now you start your own adventures, just you, without me.
Do you remember when it was just you, my son?
Do you remember how I gave you all of my hugs? How my eyes watched you always? How I loved only you, my child?
You are my first. You will always be my first. And while you are no longer my only, you are the one who made me a mother. You are the one who changed me forever.
You were my first pregnancy test. You were my first oh-my-goodness-what-the-oh-my-am-I-ready-for-this-holy-cow-I-hope-I-am-because-this-is-so-freaking-amazing-but-oh-shit-what-the-oh-my-okay-this-is-happening-for-real moment. You are the first.
You were the one to give me my first worry as a mother. You were the first to tear my heart open in a way I never knew was possible. I thought I lost you. As quickly as I discovered that I had been gifted a new purpose, I thought that purpose had been cruelly stripped away. I thought I was losing you. I thought you were gone. The doctor on the phone thought so too. So your daddy and I made a late night visit to the emergency room. I was broken. And within a few hours, I saw your tiny heart beat on the screen, and I could breathe again. You were there. You were so tiny, your heart was beating fast, and you were there.
You were the first of my children to hold. I loved you before you were born, but when I held you for the first time, well, that moment was the first. That moment was the first time I discovered how intoxicating the scent of a newborn can be. That moment was the first time I understood how intense motherhood would be and how I would never be the same. That moment, my son, you gave that to me.
Do you remember when it was just you?
Do you remember how I smiled when you said your first word? Do you remember how I clapped when you took your first step? Do you remember how I cried when you got your first big owie?
You are my first. Together we’ve seen so many firsts. And now you are the first to begin your own firsts in the big world outside of our little home.
I will smile, I will clap, and yes, I will cry too when I watch you enter those school doors on Tuesday for the very first time as a kindergartener. We’ve had so many firsts together, but this is the first time when I will not be there to see many of your firsts. This is the first time since leaving my full-time job to be an at-home mother when I will not have one of my children with me during the day. These past two years all of my days have been spent with you and your sister, and for the next few weeks until the baby arrives, it will only be me and your sister at home –without you. It will be a lot quieter; perhaps too quiet. It will be less tiring for me; perhaps not tiring enough. Your sister and I will still have many adventures, but our adventures won’t be the same without you. You were the first to make me want to soak up as many adventures as I could while you were young, while you were only mine, while we had these days before kindergarten and scouts and soccer practice and Sunday school.
Oh, my son. I will smile, I will clap, and yes, I will cry too for so many reasons when you enter those school doors on Tuesday. I will smile because it makes me happy and proud to see you so excited to start school. I will clap when you share your accomplishments with me. And I will cry, maybe not in front of you, when you share how your heart hurts. You are my first, and this is a new first for us. You will experience new firsts on your own, and I will be here for you when you need me. We can smile and clap and cry together, but my son, it’s just you again. You get to do this on your own. You get to do this without me.
I will smile to encourage you that you are ready for this. I will clap to remind you that I am so unbelievably proud and excited for you. And I will cry when you walk toward your teacher and classmates because I will miss you. I will miss sharing so much of each day with you. These past two years as a stay-at-home mom have been a gift. It’s been fulfilling and trying and exhausting and inspiring and full of adventures, and it’s been amazing because you’ve been a part of it all from the very beginning. This journey started with you, and now it’s time to let you start your own journey.
Remember when it was just you and me that moment when you were first placed on my chest? I do like it was just yesterday.
I love you, I’m proud of you, go get ‘em my little Jedi. When you get home I’ll be here to smile with you, clap with you, and cry with you if you need me to. And when I tuck you in at night, please don’t mind if I hold you a little longer and tighter against my chest.
A difficult woman: Some days it’s challenging to swim against the current. Some days the waves of tantrum after tantrum are too heavy.
“I pray for the man who marries you some day,” I mutter under my breath as I witness yet another episode of my 3-year-old daughter kicking and screaming over having to eat the bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios that she had asked to eat with such glee and excitement just 15 minutes ago. I have been awake for less than an hour and already the waves have formed and I can see them rolling in—one after another– far off in the distance.
I take a deep breath and channel my inner Bob Marley. “Rise up this mornin’, smiled with the risin’ sun,” I gently sing while making my coffee.
“Noooooo!” My daughter screams back at me. I continue singing as I wrap both hands around my warm cup of freshly brewed coffee. “Don’t worry about a thing, ‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right.”
“STOP SINGING, MOMMY!” My daughter shouts as she forces her body to slide from her chair to the floor.
My hands grip my cup of coffee tighter. This is just the beginning; the first wave of water brushes sand over my clean, dry feet. Within another 15 minutes, my daughter will calm down and she will let me wipe the tears off of her face. We will hug, she will smile, and she will giggle after her first bite of breakfast saying, “Mmmmmm. I love Honey Nut Cheerios, mommy!”
This is just the beginning, though. The waves are coming; I can see them getting higher. Let’s see how well I can swim against the current today.
These waves are heavy as they crash against my body. I try to plant my feet in the sand and stand strong in the rip current. But some days I lose my footing, and the water carries me farther from shore. The water carries me farther from you.
Oh, child. I love you with all of my heart, but these waves flood my mind from time to time. These waves make simple things so difficult. And I begin to only see the difficulties these waves bring. I begin to focus so intently on keeping my head above water, and I forget that you are trying to swim, too. The waves are crashing against you, too.
“Are you approaching your relationships with love?” Our pastor asks during his sermon this morning. I glance at you, and you are coloring quietly. You look up at me, smile, and point to what you are working on. The waves begin to recede.
Have I forgotten how to approach these waves with love in my heart? Am I letting the waves pull my love under the current? When you change your mind, and refuse to get dressed, and cry because I put your shoes on wrong, do you feel my love receding with these waves? Do you see that I love you? Or do you see the waves, too?
I glance at you again, and you look so calm coloring. Love floods my heart, and I feel the weight of the water pull away from my body.
I lift my feet out of the wet sand, one at a time, and I rinse them off in the calm water. Perhaps you are not the difficult one, my child. Perhaps I’ve been the difficult woman all along.