Monday, December 28, 2009

Of Old Ladies ,Teenagers and er Thirty Somethings.

I started the training for this today.

I. am. beat.

Due to the freezing cold temperatures here in my hometown, I have had to resort to getting a membership to our local family fitness center.
I ran on an indoor track today.

One mile is 11 times around the track.

That is 33 laps.

Thirty. Three.

My mind is still numb.

There has to be a better way.

Until then, it will be me, my iPod, and the numbers going through my head...
lap 1...lap 2...lap 3...etc...

While I am certainly tired, I am excited to be on this journey again.
I had forgotten how much I love running for the sheer ME time it allows.

There is something about spending an hour or more with yourself,
meditating and conversing.
(Is it possible to meditate while running?)

I was able to release a lot of pent up frustration and problem solve a few things.

When I wasn't problem solving, I kept my eye on the random
mop buckets strewn about the track.
Three to be exact.
They were red.
Were they there because the roof happens to have leaks at those particular points?
Or perhaps they were there in case someone needed to puke?
(I would be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind that I may have to puke in them...I actually have been feeling all day the need to puke since my three miles this morning.)


Other thoughts?

How come that girl who looked to be about 13 was out lapping me repeatedly?
Every time she would pass me, I just kept thinking...
"I am almost 30." "I don't got it anymore."
PROOF I am getting...eek O-L-D

Then...toward lap 25 an older lady with silver hair pushing a walker got on the track...and for the next 8 laps, it felt SO good to pass her repeatedly.

is having 13 year old pass BOTH me and the old lady at the same time.
I'm just going to pretend that didn't happen.

What are you all up to after all the holiday goodness?

2016 Pricing

Session Fee: $350
up to 6 people in Immediate Family.
Additional persons, $15 each.
This fee includes photographer time and 40-60 digital images.


Print Pricing:

Other sizing and products available upon request, such as fine art and wrapped canvas, and bulk wallet, and invitation insert pricing..

Weddings start at $1,599
Birth Stories $700.00 and include 100-150 digital images.
Please e-mail to set up a consultation for weddings and birth stories.
All prints are 20% off during the first
week your proofs are online.

Individual Image Negatives may be purchased for $25 each.
Digital images from each session come smartly packaged and will include all images from your session, as well as a signed copyright release to have your images printed by you at a lab of your choosing.

Please note that all sessions are done on location within the Salt Lake Valley, if you wish to have your session outside of the Salt Lake Valley,
a $25 charge will be added up to 50 miles, e-mail with questions.

Most sessions are completed within three weeks of the session date.

Kim also offers private instruction and mentoring for aspiring photographers.
Lessons start at $125.00 per hour.

Please email with further questions:

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Nine Years and a Million More

The time has flown by.

NINE years.

It feels so strange to say that. It feels like just yesterday I met this amazing man.

So, in honor of our ninth year anniversary,
I will share with you the story of how we met.

Hubbs and I met shortly after his mission for
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
He had served his mission in Anaheim, California. He was 22 years old,
I was 18.
YES 18.

I was still in high school!

I would leave school at 2:10 p.m. and basically speed (yes...SPEED) to make it the ten miles to be to my full time job at 2:30 p.m.

How many high school kids do you know that go to school all day then go straight to work and don't get home until 10 at night? Not many.

I did it. I did it for 6 months during my senior year.

It was rough.

Anyway, to make a really long story even shorter, I didn't work most Thursday nights because I had a clinical class for nursing assisting that I had to attend on Thursdays. So the first day of training for a new area of this job happened to be on a Thursday. I came into work on Friday, and during our meeting everyone was jabbering on and on and on about the trainer. How he wore a pink polo shirt, and his name was "Fabio" and how gay he must be.

Hilarious, I laughed along, thinking how funny it was, and a wee bit sad I missed out on the pink shirt because I had been gone. I knew I wouldn't have the chance to meet this Fabio because I wasn't going to be doing phone work with the rest of the group.

As I walked to the computers that day after our group meeting, one of my good friends from training convinced me in about 30 seconds that the phone work was REALLY easy and SO much better than the computers. If any of you know me, you know that in high school I was HIGH ANXIETY.

The fact that I even went to sit down and learn the phones was an amazing feat.

Anyway, I sat down and shortly after met the famed Fabio.

No pink shirt (to my dismay).
I did, however notice that he was wearing a CTR ring.

This convinced me that he probably wasn't gay,
and that perhaps there was some explanation for his pink shirt.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I noticed he would always talk to this old lady.
I thought it was super weird because he was so young and always spent his time
with this other woman.
(this woman turned out to be his MOM.)

Our seats were not assigned either so my friends and I would move around quite often. One day my friend said to me,

"Kim, don't you notice that Fabio always sits next to you?"

I hadn't really noticed up until that point, I just thought he was being nice and helpful. Tee hee. I did notice him on breaks and stuff that he would often be in close proximity to me. After that I started to notice that he took every opportunity to be by me.

A few weeks later I had some Pepperidge Farm cookies in my bag, and I asked Fabio if he wanted I shared.

That began our deep conversations.

He asked me that night if I wanted to 'hang out' and go bowling with him and some of his friends.

I had to politely decline (it was a school night and my curfew was basically when I got off work).

He had no clue what a 'curfew' was.

Strike one for Fabio.

A couple days later, he asked me to 'hang out again'.

I finally got the idea that this guy had a THING FOR ME!

AHHHH. I wanted nothing to do with him. He was 22, and was only looking for a wife.

I was 18, and I had SO many plans. College, mission, backpack Europe. Etc...etc.

Marriage was THE furthest thing from my mind. My parent's marriage had ended in divorce and I was kind of anti-marriage at that point in my life.

Strike two for Fabio.

Again, he asked me out...

Strike three.

I have to tell you at this time in my life, I REALLY was busy an I had LEGITIMATE excuses to be turning this young man down.

I really didn't want to date him, he was from Brazil, and had a great accent, and he was kind of cute, but needed some serious wardrobe help...and really I didn't want to deal with it.

Strike four.

The poor guy asked me out FOUR times and I said NO each and every time.

The time came for my little group of trainees to move to another building. There was this small part of me that felt bad for this guy who had tried so hard to ask me out.

On the last night we were in the same building, I wrote my number down on a piece of paper and slid it to him.

I apologized for always being too busy to 'hang out' with him and told him to call me sometime.

I was pretty sure he wouldn't call.

I think I was hoping he wouldn't.

He called two days later.

I picked up the phone and it was Flavio!

He called wanting to know if I could go out and I said YES.

He was SO stunned that he stammered and sputtered.
(he hadn't even planned a sure I was going to say no.)

He asked me to go to a birthday party of one of HIS Brazilian friends, and said:

"Do you want to meet me there?"

I said, "Well, that would be great except I have no idea who your friend is, and you are asking me out so you probably should come and pick me up."

Poor Flav.

He came and picked me up later that evening. I kept looking out the window for some atrocious beater car. When a super sporty red car pulled in front of my house and Flavio got out, I was floored.

Say what?!

Home Run.

We went out.

Here is where I would like to tell you it was the most romantic date ever.

It wasn't.

It was horrible.

We spent the evening with 30 or so Brazilians who spoke only Portuguese.

Not the best first date for someone who only knows English.

He took me home that night and I vowed not to do that again.

He called me the next week.

I decided to give him ONE more chance.

I am so glad that I did.

Our second date was the best I have ever been on.

I knew that night that this man was going to be my eternal companion.

Really. I. Did.

Strange but true.

Nine months later we were married.

I was still 18.

It was the best decision I ever made.

I love you sweet 'Fabio'.

So thankful for you.

Nine years.

3 Kids. 1 Angel.

and a hope for a million more years together.

Happy Anniversary Love.

Monday, December 21, 2009


e-mail me

and I will send you an address where you can send me copious amounts of
pass along cards.

I assure you they will be going all over the country...and maybe even the world.


kimsueellen [at] gmail [dot] com

Thursday, December 17, 2009

"The 'breastfast' of champions."

A story of weaning.

5 months

That is it. It is all I can do. It is the farthest I have gotten with any of my babies.

I feel kind of 'meh'.

I want my body back.

Selfish I know.

Part of it probably has something to do with the fact I am flying with my sweet baby in about two weeks, and I really, REALLY don't feel comfortable nursing while I sit in the middle of two complete strangers.

Really? I know teeth are coming and I am afraid.

Also? I am really fat.


Like, I have never been so big in my ENTIRE life.

This makes me sad.

My body holds onto every gram of fat I put into it, like a squirrel gathering nuts for winter, my body thinks that it must not let any of it go for fear it can't produce enough milk for this little one.

Do I feel guilty? A tiny bit.

JUST a tiny bit.

(I feel more guilt about the day we pierced her that is a tragedy.)

I do know however that I am going to be a MUCH better mom when I am not so stressed about whether or not she is getting enough, or that I have to be home within three hours from the exact time I leave the house. A little excited that maybe I can sleep through the night one of these weekends when my husband doesn't work, as this sweet face STILL wakes up every three hours at night. I am a zombie.

Love this sweet tiny thing. She brings me so much joy. Thank you Millz for not making me feel guilty when I gave you that bottle of formula for the first time in your little life today.

Thank you for drinking it right down and
through it all.

Just what I needed, you are definitely a champ.

Monday, December 14, 2009

This is Familiar

The instant I held Millz in my arms for the first time,
she was familiar.

At first, I wasn't sure if it was because she looked so much like her brother and sister,
or if it was because
SHE herself was familiar.

Of course, it was because she was familiar.

The first few days and weeks that she was a part of our home, a part of our lives,
she brought an
air of familiarity

to our hearts.

This tiny girl was the reason, the push, the drive of the previous three years. She was the one standing behind the veil SCREAMING for us to not give up on her. It was her spirit begging for us to not give up hope for another child to come to our home. It was her. She wanted so badly to come to us...and when she was finally here, it was with the simple, sweet, enduring ways of a baby that I realized as her mother that I already knew her inside and out.


She. Was. Familiar.

As I look back on the almost five months since she came to us, I am in awe of her spirit. Her happy face, and the sweet love that she has for us.

She was worth Every tear. Every heartache. Every loss.

Every. Single. One.

I would do it all again for her.

To my friends still 'waiting' or still 'finding' or still 'hoping'...
don't give up.

Your 'Familiar' is waiting, standing behind an unseen veil,
waiting and hoping just as hard as you are!

She is proof:

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Ross the Intern and My Grandpa Jerry

I have forgotten the hilarity of Ross the Intern
when he crossed paths with my Grandpa Jerry a few years back.

It wasn't until some friends and I were discussing when

Ross met Danny,

the newest winner of The Biggest Loser on Tuesday night.
How that Ross had us in stitches.

My Grandpa Jerry, (my dad's stepdad) passed away a few years ago.

Go and enjoy the hilarity for yourself:


Is the last thing Jerry says to Ross not the funniest thing you have EVER heard?

I miss him. I know my brother misses him dearly.

What a treasure this video is.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Back to Work--

--ing Out.

I had about two weeks to work out hard between having Millz and before my surgery,
which put me out from almost no exercise for another six weeks.

It has been hard on me.

The last four months have just been one lazy, messy, day after another. Last week was the week when the red light turned to green, which meant I needed to get my lazy ars off of the couch...
(not that it spends much time there anyway with three little ones.)

So, Friday I started my exercise routine, three weeks before I start training for THIS.
(still waiting on word if I got in though, cross your fingers.)
It is not too late to get in on it too...sign up for the starts Dec 27!
Get your super fab shirts here.

Anyway, today I tried the Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred.

Holy Bananas.

I got this DVD for a STEAL only $10 on a Target sale (my fave store) and holy mother.

I hurt.

I never realized 20 minutes could hurt so good.

I think I just might be able to get back into this work--ing out thing again.

As for 'real' work?
Ya I've been doing that too.

Check it out here.


Thursday, December 3, 2009

Kim's Bridals












View entire session and order prints here.

Fighting back the tears...

...of JOY.

So, yesterday was J-Man's FIRST official SEP.

Call it what you would like:
"Student Educational Plan"
"Parent Teacher Conference"

It is what it is.

Seeing how it was J-Man's first...that automatically means, it was also MY first (as a parent).

We got to the school, sat across from his teacher, and she just goes on and on at what a great boy J is.

How sweet he is.
How kind he is.
How SMART he is.
How helpful he is.
How loving he is.
How he helps her SO much.
How she rarely gives '5''s...but how he had almost ALL 5's

I did not doubt that he would be just as good at school as he is for me.
I had to try really hard to fight back the tears of joy that I felt for my little man.

He is a rock.

Upon leaving she told Jothan:

"Come around the table and give me a hug."

Which he did. She proceeded to whisper lots of things in his ear, finishing off with what I assume was the question:

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

He promptly replied:

"A missionary."

First on his list. I don't know where he gets it.
The tears spilled over.

I love this little man.
So proud of the person he is becoming.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009