Oliver Potter and the Staci Miller Newborn Photos

I’m not sure if i have a writing style… if you had to narrow it down I know a few people might say my style is “grammatically horrible,” or “not really funny”… something like that. First Person Narrative… I guess that’s the closest you can get to narrowing down the writing. I mean the blog is titled Chronicles of a New Dad… I’d like to think I’ve Chronicled my perspective on having kids in a unique way.

But, today… I’ve decide to change it up a bit… I needed to tell someone thanks. Thanks for quite a bit actually. So I’m changing things up a little bit and am going writing letter style.

Dear Staci Miller (Photography),

It’s been almost three years since you came into our life… expensive Nikon camera, gorgeous props and the patience of a saint. Yes, early on in our relationship you had a different name… Pink Elephant… different but still amazing. And that’s just it… i needed to thank you for bringing amazing to life.

Not many people can take the thoughts that swim around in this weird brain of mine… take those abstract ideas and make them concrete. You’ve successfully, in essence, painting the pictures of my mind and put them on canvas. You’re an artist with a flash and lost of fluorescent lighting.

The thing is, that’s not even what makes these pictures a masterpiece. It’s the fact that you have to deal with me… a hyper… anxiety riddled parent who is obsessed with details. I’m the Jack Nicholson (As Good As It Gets Nicholson) of parenting during new born photos. OCD to the max.

You’ve taken photos of a wizards hat and wand… you successfully posed an infant on a giant piece of cheese and most impressive of all captured numerous shots while getting peed on. It’s impressive to say the least.

There was the time at the barn where Jackson got bit by a rooster, the time where we got you caught up in a beach wedding with Miller Highlife cans in the background, the session where I made you take pictures of my sons butt and the time my pants were too tight to help hold Oliver’s head up. I admit to ruining quite the few “perfect shots.”

You took pictures while my son puked on your floor, peed on your brand new background and shattered glass Christmas ornaments (ok the ornaments were my fault… and I may have eaten a few cheese sticks out of your fridge, but you catch my drift… we’re not easy subjects to photograph.

But that all pales in comparison to the latest sitcom-like experience. You know the one where I made you snap photos of my son inside a flower pot while he was screaming (purposefully making him cry, because that’s what Mandrakes do in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets… (which by the way is my least favorite book and movie).

You did it all with a smile on your face and 85mm – 135mm lens in your hand (is that a real thing I know nothing about cameras?). You always welcomed us in your home, or your studio or some random farm, which if I were you I’d suggest every time since then Jackson can’t eat all your cookies and string cheese.

And for some reason you keep having us back and the pictures get better each time we do. For that… I thank you… from the bottom of my Harry Potter loving heart.


And then the unprofessional, I should have been helping instead of sneaking pictures w my iPhone, pictures:

 

Here is the link to Jackson’s newborn photos: https://chroniclesofanewdad.com/2014/05/10/5-10-14-newborn-photos/

Easter vs Dinosaurs

Nothing says Easter like a Mr. Rodgers sweater

Nothing says Easter like a Mr. Rodgers sweater

Easter… Another holiday… Another event… Another opportunity to spend with family.  A time for rejoice and reflection, however gets lost in the mounds of chocolate and colorful eggs and other various items that have absolutely nothing to do with religion, and this got me thinking… What is my son’s relationship with god going to be?

I grew up in a typical catholic household… Not total bible thumpers, but church going, CCD attending, alter boy, Italian catholic family.  Stephanie went to catholic school her entire life from “grammar school” (do people actually call it grammar school), through high school.

So where does that leave our little one?  I’ve said a lot of things on this blog that might be a little controversial, some that I’m sure others agree with and some that others probably think I’m crazy for.  I’m sure this statement is going to be one of those… I hate that I want to go to church just a little less that I want to do a lot of other things.

I don’t want to pretend to be something I’m not.  But I also don’t want to just do the things that are easy. Sacrificing region for a nice calm Sunday morning is easy, but is it right?  I want Jax to know that our religion is important to us, but I’m not sure how to do that when we seem to be on the holiday church schedule… (You know attend Christmas, Easter, Palm Sunday, etc).

I’ve had quite a bit of trouble writing this… Obviously Easter was a week a go, and I’m still writing and rewriting.  Mostly because I don’t know how this will be perceived.  What are my parents going to say?  What will Jax think years from now when he rests this?

Is it bad to admit that going to church is not a high priority for me?  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m glad I was raised Catholic and that I have the knowledge that I do regarding my religion and the bible, knowing I have an outlet when I need to talk to someone, or say a prayer too and that someone is listening… Somehow and someway makes me feel better.  There have definitely been times where the best person to talk to, was someone I couldn’t even see.

This isn’t some innovative blog post; I’m sure it has been written about before.  I just don’t know if anyone has taken the middle road before.  It seems to be either you are writing about how God raised his arms and created the Heavens and Earth or you are writing about how the dinosaurs don’t believe in God.  There has to be a happy medium right?  In 2015 you shouldn’t have to choose to just toe the line; you should be able to hop back and forth and believe in certain things that you can’t see or hear, but also be able to do it at your own pace.

Does that make sense?  I’m not sure if it did, but it will soon because we’re living it now.

 

This blog entry has been featured on Honustmum.com as a Brilliant Blog Post.

This blog entry has been featured on Honustmum.com as a Brilliant Blog Post.

Bab(e)y Ruth

  

 

We don’t do candy in this house, not now … Not never.  Well, except for Steph who enjoys Twizzlers, Reeces peanut butter cups, m&ms, Cadbury mini eggs, Cadbury Easter eggs, Cadbury scrambled eggs… Etc, etc, etc.

I had to make a few calls to a few guys who know a few guys who the Easter Bunny owes a few favors to.  Once all was said and done, he got the message… No candy over here.  

Just Topps and Topps Heritage cards (you know the ones with the chance for a Babe Ruth Game-Used jersey card).

Baby Ruth… That’s about as close to a candy bar as this kid is gonna get this year! 

Happy Easter Kid

I still remember opening his first pack of cards with him, seems like yesterday!!!  https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2014/05/02/5-2-14-first-pack-of-baseball-cards/