Sunday was His Majesty’s Birthday. I haven’t written about him in a few weeks but if you’re a long time follower you know that our relationship has been tumultuous to say the least. To sum it up it has been me pinning for his love and affection (or hoping that maybe just once he wouldn’t run in the opposite direction when he sees me) and him asking his mother in a pompous, English accent that sounds just like Stewie from Family Guy, “Remind me again what your name is and exactly how do we know each other?”
He’s two now and forming actual words and sentences which is pretty exciting to see develop and scary at the same time. You guys know I am a cusser and this did not just happen one day. I inherited it from my family of which His Majesty was spawned from. We’re learning to whisper The Swears and come up with creative alternatives. I was watching in pure auntie pride as he climbed up the stairs of the jungle gym at the park and watch his chubby little butt go down the slide all by himself when he looked directly at me and said, “Bubba!” That’s the nickname I’ve had my whole life. It’s not original but I’ve been called it my entire life so it has stuck and so we have
taught him to call me Aunt Bubba. When he was younger my brother and
sister-in-law would show him pictures of me at their house and my parent’s
house to show him who Bubba was. For awhile he wasn’t quite getting that when I
was there next to him that I was indeed the same person in the pictures. I
would just get The Look. For some time he has been calling me Bubba now when he
sees me but it’s usually with coaxing from his parents or from grandpa and
grandma. You can understand the joy I felt when he called me this with out any outside
persuasion. It was just him and I at the jungle gym. He kept calling out my
name making sure I was watching him go up and down the slide all by his self
and I was so glad to watch.
This small moment in our relationship means a lot to me and even more so after recently having traumatized him. I’ll tell you more about that story later.
I don’t know if it’s the circumstances that were going on the day he arrived into our world or if it’s just because he’s my brother’s kid but I think this love/hate thing is here to stay. We ARE family after all. I do know that the love parts will out weigh the hate every time.
Anyway, the party was a hit and he was spoiled as usual. I got him some spooky fall clothes that I hope will fit him. I'm still learning this whole buying kids clothes business.
I took this opportunity to dress up and take some snaps for Fall Fashion Week going on over at Emery's blog. I will admit that the poncho stayed on for about 20.2 seconds because after all it is still averaging about 85 degrees here in northern Utah. Underneath it I had a short sleeve, very thin plaid shirt on. I always begrudgingly ask Tyrone to take a full body shot of me before we left for the party. We didn’t fight once I’m proud to announce. I’m either too lazy or shy to pull out the tripod or trying to keep my marriage in tact when I don’t take a full length shot. Even after a year of doing fashion shots here and there I still struggle with a bit of insecurity. It didn’t help when I did put on the poncho, having my husband ask me, “Your style is all over the place isn’t it?” Yes, it is, DICK! I don't know what it is about picture taking that sets us both both off sometimes.
Poncho - F21
Cut offs - thrift + scissors
Plaid top - old
Leather Belt - thrift
Shades - Target
Moccasin Trompers - Piperlime