I’m all baby. And I apologize for all the parenthesis.

There’s a compliment that all mothers-to-be like to hear, and that I am fairly certain Drew has been trailing in front of me paying our unsuspecting friends to occasionally pass it along to me, no matter the cost of this kind lie.  The old “You are just all baby!” meaning that the unending pregnancy weight gain is magically concentrated on what Hollywood so adoringly calls the bump.  Ahem, mountain might be a more appropriate term…I got a bump on my head this morning when I forgot to bend in half to get in the car…that is not what’s happening on the front of this body that was once mine.  But enough of that, what I’m getting at here is that, with just three (please don’t be five, please don’t be five, please don’t be five) weeks left to this pregnancy, it’s official, I’m conceding.  I’m all baby.  Not so much in the way that the compliment was intended (if that we’re the case, people would be saying, “you’re just all ice cream!”) but more in the sense that my brain is all baby.  My days are all baby.

To be fair, I made it pretty far, keeping as many of my baby ramblings as possible relegated to this blog, but at this point, I give.  I can’t think about much else besides being a mother to this little boy.  I am trying to fill my final days with movies (caught The Time Traveler’s Wife last night…please promise that you’ll read the book before seeing the movie, the book is bliss), live music, books, (I refuse to admit to you what series I’m reading right now, but let’s just say that I have to buy it in the teen fiction section and leave it at that), time with Drew, some pesky housecleaning, and my absolute favorite pastime, sleep.  I really am, but in between that, I’m shamelessly reading blogs about mothering, touching the things in his room, or just sitting in the rocking chair in his room, eating I’m sure, and staring out the window trying to wrap my mind around what we’re about to do here.  I am positive that my voice and eyes take on a new level of excitement (did someone just say hysteria out there in the back??) when my friends ask about something baby related, and relieve me of having to pretend that I’m thinking about those books or movies or current events.  I aspire to, and hopefully will be a woman who maintains a sense of life outside of mothering and all, but for right now, for this precious time of our life and the for coming weeks and months, just bear with me.  I’m all baby.  I’m supposed to be, the system is designed this way.  I will jump back into the mainstream at some point, and from what I gather from my friends with babies, will be desperate to talk about books (you know, or read one) and politics and anything else that doesn’t involve the words “butt” and “rash” but for right now…well, sorry,  there’s just no hope.  I’m all baby.

Ok, so all of that is to say, check out this blog.  It’s called How to Photograph Your Baby and is written by Nick Kelsh (responsible for the pictures you see here), photographer and author of a number of books including one by the same title as the blog.  For those of you without babies/children/and interest in my current obsession, hear me out…this is an excellent blog about connecting with anything that you love and then taking a photo of it.  As an amateur photog, I appreciate the extreme sappiness of his position on the relationship that the photographer assumes with the subject.  If you love taking pictures of insects or strangers or your cats or whatever, I think that you’ll enjoy his musings.  I know that I am.  And as it turns out, I will soon be taking one or two pictures of our baby, so the pointers are appreciated on that subject too.  Take a look, and then go have a bowl of ice cream with sprinkles and possibly some chocolate syrup, and think of me.