Introducing...

My new nephew...
Isn't he a little doll?

A Good Man is Hard to Find

Looks like I found one...

Three Little Boys

Thanks for the fun today A Family! Here are just a few of your shots from today...just look at these boys! Hope you enjoy your sneak peek.

A day in the daffodil fields

Here is your sneak peek from today, just a few from the hundred I took...I just love, love the way your pics came out! Thanks for cutting up your feet and missing swimming, all for the perfect shot. Hope you like them!

Sneak Peek for the ENTIRE "M" family...

Thanks for letting me come take pictures of you all!

P.S. Sorry for making you trepse all over the yard carrying lawn furniture!

Sneak Peek for the "M" Family

Thanks guys! I'm looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow! Hope you like em!

Sneak Peek for Baby J

Here is sweet Baby J...just five weeks old.

My First Maternity Session

Here's your sneak peek...

Check out my new site...

What I do when my kids go to sleep...

Sneak peek for the P family

Thanks for the fun! Here's your sneak peek...

No words.

Some people's children take their breath away. Mine take my words away. I used to be sharp, I used to be quick, I used to be innovative.
I used to have an answer for everything.

My Kid: "Mama, why can't I hit my brother?"

Me: "Because it's not nice...and he'll probably hit you back."

Bam. Problem solved. Fight diffused.

Yes, I used to be...

While I once could come up with a sufficient punishment at the drop of a hat, I now find myself stuttering, and tripping over my words to come up with a proper "if...then" statement. A statement that means business.

One that keeps my three year old from ripping open a bag of chocolate chips from the pantry, and one that makes my five year old think twice before he talks back "one more time."

Yeah, my kids know mama's going soft. Oh,they're all over me, testing me left and right.
My "one more time" has now become forty-seven more times. Wanna know why? Because I have no more words, and I need the extra time to come up with something good.

Take this evening at dinner. Not unlike any other night, tonight's meal started with a brawl over a plastic cup. In our home, this cup is referred to as the "special" cup. While it serves it's purpose well as a liquid container, I can't for the life of me figure out why this cup is so "special." But to my children, it is.

In fact it's so special that my kids are willing to risk their meal, their toys, their valentines, their college education and every other good thing they have, just to drink from it. Unbelievable.

Unfortunately, when the fight broke out tonight my brain was unprepared yet again, and the only thing I could come up with was for the culprit to go sit on the red chair.

The red chair.
Pathetic, I know.

Ahhh...the life with four kids. I need some help people.

Who I blame for my three gray hairs...

This is beginning to look look like one of those photo blogs...

Here is your sneak peek of Baby S!

I need some new models

My children are getting pretty tired of me sneaking pictures of them. Let's just say there is a lot of free candy floating around my house these days...

Plan B

Some recent photos...get the word out, if you're pregnant or a mom, this Mama of four wants to take pictures of your newborn, kids or family. Check out my site at www.marionburgos.printroom.com.

Another year, another year older...

With my recent family addition of my fourth child, my sweet baby girl, I've come to realize now more than ever, that my children are growing, and they are growing fast. Faster than I can keep up with, actually.

My days are a whirlwind of carpools, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and poopy diapers. Sometimes in that order. Sometimes, I go to bed at night not even able to remember what I did, or who I spoke to that day.

My husband tells me I often wake in the middle of the night in a panic, running around the room saying, "where's the baby, where's the baby?" All the while, she is safely tucked into her crib.

It's not necessarily the actual load of the kids, that makes having four small children difficult, it's mainly just that there isn't enough time in the day to feed, clothe, entertain, read to, sing with, play with and kiss a million times, all of my children. And when I don't do all of the above, every day, with each of them, I go to bed feeling like the day is done, before I am done. Don't get me wrong, at the end of every day I am completely physically done, sometimes I just feel like there just wasn't enough time in the day. Today was one of those days. Today I was in the same house with my children every second of the day, and yet I will go to bed tonight missing them.

Where in the world have I been?

What can I say? I'm a dreamer...and I've been busy working on my next dream over here.

Death of a Wardrobe

Something very sad has been happening around here. My wardrobe is dying. A very long, slow and painful death. And while I'd like to say that I have just discovered that the shirt I've been wearing around town for the past year is "so eighties," (as is that phrase,) sadly enough, I'd have to admit that I saw signs.

I'd say it probably started about 6 years ago. Strangely enough, it was right around the time I gave birth to my firstborn, my source of delight--my daughter. Yes, come summer of that year, I realized that even though I had lost all of the weight I had gained while pregnant, somehow, someway, my body had changed(became permanently deformed), and the clothes that once fit me, now did not.

So I began to shop with the mindset of, "I will buy whatever fits me in this entire store, as long as I don't have to go up a size." And with this, as you may have guessed, brought home some questionable pieces.

Shortly after my daughter turned one, came my pride and joy, baby number two--my son. (AKA: the baby who turned my thighs to jello.) This time around I remembered what I looked like after my first, and I tried to cut back during the pregnancy in hopes of lessening the aftermath effects a bit. And for the most part, I did, and was able to fit into a lot of the after-pregnancy clothes from my first. While I had hoped this size was just a "transition size," (defined as: the size we moms are, after we have our babies; sometimes months after, sometimes years after,) unfortunately while pregnant with my son, I ate too many Tostitos with Lime, and this became my new size. Luckily, I had an abundance of fashionable clothing from my last pregnancy, so updates were only needed for family events and Christmas parties.

While the two years in between my second and my third may seem short to some, it was a breath of fresh air to, well, my wardrobe. I managed to cut down my thighs a bit, and in turn, managed to pick up some new clothes here and there, just enough to make me look somewhat put together.

And then there were three. Clothes weren't about fashion. Clothes were about not being naked. (My wardrobe begins to get sick. Very sick.)

And just about the time I begin to lay some pieces to rest, my sweet baby number four arrives, my second baby girl, my love, the one that makes me wish I could fit into post-pregnancy clothes from baby number one, and the one that makes me know that I never want to sport a "post pregnancy" wardrobe again.

At this point, my wardrobe consists of a mish-mash of clothes from past years, clothes that are stained, and either clothes that are way too big, or way too small. My wardrobe is ill I tell you. Very ill.

And from the way the events unfolded today in the dressing room with my infant and toddler, I'm pretty sure it's going to stay that way for awhile. I almost think that they want me to dress like a bag lady.

Unless of course, one of you out there nominates me for TLC's WHAT NOT TO WEAR.

Wait, I guess you'd have to see me to do that. Scratch that idea.

It's never too early to learn about the Trinity

Despite their sometimes questionable policies, I have resumed all activities at the library. And yesterday when I took my four kids, I struck up some interesting conversation with my two year old, while reading a book.

MY SON: "Mama, those are stars." (He feels the need to narrate everything.)

ME: "Yes honey, you're right. And do you know who made the stars?"

MY SON: "Jesus."

ME: "Yes, God made the stars."

MY SON: (With puzzled look on his face) "God made the stars? I thought Jesus made those stars."

ME: "Jesus is God."

MY SON: "Jesus is God?!?"

And I was just about to quote some scripture and go into the biblical truths behind this, but luckily a daddy long leg caught his eye, and that was the end of our conversation.

These few moments, however, along with an in-depth conversation with my daughter last week about how Adam and Eve "weren't born," have caused me to reprioritize my daily schedule to include a much more detailed and fact driven quiet time in the Word.

Two things that are sure to ruin my morning

1. Quaker chewy granola bars

My sleepy two year old asks for one every morning, but because they are chewy they almost always break in half when you open them.

This is an action that sends my son into a tizzy that is impossible to pull him out of. Needless to say, there is a half of box of half opened granola bars sitting in my pantry.

2. 3/4 in. sleeves

My six year old wears uniforms to school that consist of a white collared shirt and navy blue jumper. For some reason my daughter is very sensitive to minuscule droplets of water, and any kind of constraining device on her forearms--ie. 3/4 in sleeves.

Typically after I've meticulously opened the Quaker chewy granola bar, I attempt to stretch the armholes of my daughters cotton dress shirt, so that her arms freely slide up and down the shirt.

And I'm expected to get four kids out of the house by 7:30 every morning.