Meet Leo.  Isn’t it a great name?  I love his name.  About as much as I love his little feet and little hands.  And little mouth.  And little eyes.  And… well, you get the picture.  I can’t wait to see who he becomes.  Congratulations, Tessa!  He’s perfect.

So, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s COLD outside.  I mean REALLY cold.  Like -18C/0F cold.  Like so cold my sunglasses give me a brain freeze cold.

But did you read that glorious word?  SUNGLASSES?  Did you see it?  It means there’s SUN- so much sun that I need SUNGLASSES.

And that, my friend, means there’s plenty of light for some indoor photo sessions- especially in my studio, which has a ton of light.  And yes, by studio, I mean my house.

So, join me there!  For a mini session this Sunday!  Six digital proofs and an hour with me for only €150 (a savings of €60 in case you were wondering).

I’ve got three time slots available- 1:00, 2:00, and 3:00.  Come, relax, play, and eat cookies (cookies make every session more enjoyable, don’t you think?)

Contact me at sarah@pikkuarkki.com or 050 349 4460 to schedule your session.

Benjy was a Henry until two weeks before he was born.  At that point, Olli turned to me and said, “I’m not a huge fan of the name.”  So we came up with Benjamin instead.

Wow, do I love Benjy’s name.  I really love it.  It’s perfect.  But as he was growing up (as if he’s already fully grown…), I kept thinking, “You would have made a pretty cute Henry.”  It seemed that while Olli had given up on the name, I absolutely had not.

And so with the second pregnancy, I started campaigning hard for the name.  Finally, after guilting him into it (“If we have a second boy, it’ll be my only consolation.”  TOTALLY not true, by the way.  I couldn’t be happier that Henry turned out to be who he is.  He is exactly who he was supposed to be.  How could I have ever wanted him to be someone else?  Did any of you moms out there experience this?), he agreed.  And he got to choose the second name- Sebastian.

And here’s why we chose the names we did.  Henry for St. Henry of Finland.  You can read all about him here.  It’s English and Finnish all at the same time.  And then Sebastian because it’s the English form of Seppo, who is Olli’s dad.  Olli’s dad is definitely someone worth naming your child after (Sebastian was actually a front runner in our choice of first names as well).

So, there you have it.  Henry Sebastian Frechette Honkkila.  Quite a mouthful.  But slightly shorter than Benjamin Alexander Frechette Honkkila.  :)

Anyway, the really exciting thing is that not only is today Henry’s four month birthday, it’s ALSO his very first name day!!

I can’t take credit for knowing that today is his name day, though- a friend congratulated Henry on Facebook.  What kind of mother am I??!

But I can take credit for knowing it’s his four month birthday.  And for that, I should summarize who he is at this point.

He still doesn’t poop terribly often.  Usually once a day now (hallelujah!) but it can still be a few days in between poops.  This is so important, because the frequency with which he poops decides everything- how fussy he is, how well he sleeps, how well he eats, etc.  Last night, he had to poop but couldn’t and so woke up EVERY HOUR for about four hours.  AWESOME.

He’s kind of on a sleeping schedule, but since my day is more determined by Benjy’s schedule at this point, it can get kind of wonky.  He just has to come along for the ride- hopefully this will make him more flexible as a human being and not just bitter than his older brother takes priority…  I’m sure this will even out as the years go on.

Henry has a beautiful smile.  A smile which he uses really often, especially when he just wakes up in the morning.

Henry likes to be held, but he’s getting used to sitting in his baby bouncer seat.

He now grabs toys instead of wildly flailing about.

He is ENORMOUS.  Last weigh in at neuvola put him at 63cm, 6.48kg (24.8in, 14.29lb).  This might not seem enormous to you, but Benjy at that age was 1 cm taller and 600g lighter.  So Henry, with his gorgeous fat rolls on his thighs is so different.

People say he looks like Olli, but I think he looks like a Frechette.  I can’t tell what about him- probably the nose.

And he looks REALLY really cute in winter gear.

Hat of a bunny, heart of a lion.

Happy name/birthday, my love.

But I concluded someone’d have to have a lot of guts to do that sort of shoot.  A whole lot of guts.

And I wondered if I had the guts…

Well, internet.  I do.

Of course I only document the sweet, precious moments. And if I do happen to capture a silly face or two, I certainly don’t save it and edit it and post it.

At most times on most days, you can find him with an awesome cosmonaut cotton hat on his head and mis-matched cotton socks on his hands.

And this, my friends, is for his own protection.  Because Henry has got the worst case of cradle cap I’ve ever seen.  Ever.  EVER.

It’s horrible and flaky and apparently itchy, because this naughty boy, if left to his own devices will scratch and scratch and scratch his head.

Scratch it until it bleeds.  Seriously, I woke up one morning and his head was covered in blood.  No one wants to see their 3 month old’d head covered in blood, am I right?  And so we stick on the cotton cap (this particular one is so wonderful because it won’t slip off, although it does sometimes slip DOWN over his eyes.  You can probably imagine how much he loves that) and the mismatched cotton socks (mismatched because if it’s difficult to keep normal socks matched, it’s stinkin’ IMPOSSIBLE to keep pairs of baby socks together.  And socks because they have a tighter fit and better staying power than baby mittens) to protect him from himself.

He sure does look ridiculous.  But he’s mine.  :)

We’ve been busy.  Oh, yes we have.  Three days of Christmas with the family.  Plenty of fun, plenty of photos.

And then New Year’s Eve Eve with friends from college.  And a friend and her kids over for New Year’s Eve.  And then the same college friends over again.  And then a church party at ours for Epiphany Eve.  And then more guests and their children over on Epiphany.  And NOT ONE PHOTO TO PROVE IT.  Oh my gosh, what kind of photographer am I?

And now it’s 2011.  TWO THOUSAND ELEVEN.  What?  Where did the last ELEVEN years go?

Does anyone else feel this way?

2011- time for some moving and shaking. I can feel it in my bones.  I’m not sure what needs to be moved or shaken, but let’s make this a big year.  Maybe I’ll write a book.  Maybe I’ll shoot another wedding.  Maybe I’ll visit the States (that last one is HOPEFULLY more than a “maybe” and on its way to becoming a “probably”).  Who knows?  New year, new possibilities.

Photography is like anything.  You’ve got to practice.  All the stinkin’ time.  And what better place to practice than your own home?  I mean, you’re there all the time.  You see the light patterns throughout the day.  You can move furniture to suit your needs.  And if you mess up and your photos turn out horribly?  Whatever- it’s your house, you can do it all over again tomorrow.

I have found that the living room is the best place for photos in the morning.  And my bedroom is the best for the afternoon.  The kitchen is wretched no matter the time of day.  Benjy’s bedroom is normally good throughout the day when there isn’t a 4 inch coating of snow over his window (which means this winter, there won’t be any photos taken there for the next four months or so…).  I know I’ve got to time things right, because the sun is out for precious few hours these days (I think we have six hours of daylight right now.  I think…) and Benjy’s nap takes most of the afternoon light.  I know that when it’s cloudy, my subjects need to be as close to the windows as possible, but when it’s sunny I’ve got to close the drapes.  I know which end of the sofa they should sit on for the best light.  The list continues.

How does the light in your house change throughout the day?  When is it the most flattering?  When you sort that out, then you can *slightly* alter your subject’s behaviour to produce better photos.  For instance, this adorable scene below originally took place on the wrong end of the couch.  I just asked Olli to scoot over to the other side- the side nearer the windows- and then let the scene transpire.  And look!  Just look!

Knowing your own house will help you understand light in general.  It’ll help you when you walk into an unfamiliar space and start photographing unfamiliar subjects.  You’ll recognize what works best in your house- you’ll look for East and West facing windows, you’ll move the couch to suit your needs, you’ll avoid the dark and dim and naturally seek out the brightest and best.

Know thy house.  And the rest will be much, much easier.

But yesterday, when he was actually three months old, I took these:

At this point, I can’t believe he’s already three months old.  The new newborn stage is over, really.  And it flew by.  I can’t believe we’re already here- I think it went by way faster than it did with Benjy, probably because I had Benjy to chase after.

But at the same time, I can’t believe it’s ONLY been three months.  Really?  He’s only been here for three months?  His surgery seems a lifetime ago.  His birth two lifetimes ago.  The pregnancy pains?  The wondering when he’d EVER show up?  The debating if he was a boy or a girl?  Those are barely even memories.

The hemorrhoids, though?  Those are an ever-present reminder that Henry is, in fact, only 3 months old and I did, actually, push him out rather forcefully.

Ah, the gifts of our children.

Benjy’s in daycare.  I think I’ve mentioned that.  In Finland (I seem to be using that phrase a lot recently- I guess I’m really educating you all, huh?), daycare is heavily, heavily subsidized.  And it’s provided by the city.  And there’s a law that states that the city must provide a child with daycare within four months of his/her application.  The catch?  They might place your kid in a daycare 5 miles from your house (I know by American standards, this is not a big deal, but keep in mind that I don’t have access to a car to retrieve my child from daycare) if that’s the only place with room at the end of four months.

We started the daycare process back in August.  I had no intention of putting Benjy in daycare when Henry was born. We’ll be fine I thought.  But then I was watching him in the park, watching him try to play with other kids and being rebuffed.  And it broke my heart.  Right in half.

Benjy needed friends.

Benjy, of course, has friends, but they all live in various places throughout the Helsinki Metro Area.  Again, keep in mind that I don’t have access to a car (yes, we own.  No, I neither know how or am legally permitted to drive it- another story for another blog), so seeing these friends can be somewhat difficult.

Benjy needed friends in his neighborhood that he could see on a regular basis.  And so the quest for daycare began.

It was stopped and started at multiple times along the way, but finally, after a call from Olli where he threw at them everything he could possibly find to throw, including a totally unrelated story about Henry being in the hospital, which was only meant to inspire guilt and empathy (thank goodness Sarah’s mom was here, he sighed into the phone) and TOTALLY worked- Benjy got a part time place in our first choice daycare, a mere kilometer from our house.

He goes three mornings a week.  At first he loved it.  Now he cries on the way there.  Cries when Olli drops him off.  Cries when they make him go outside (to be fair, I also cry when I have to go outside.  It’s cold!) And smiles and laughs when I come to pick him up.

Olli and I had a brief, “What should we do?  Should we pull him out?  Are we terrible parents for making him go?” discussion yesterday, after a particularly sad drop off.  But we decided, no.  We’re not terrible.  It’s good for him.

And good for me.  And for Henry.

Because it means that we get to spend all morning together, chillaxin’, cuddled on the bed, doing this: