I love me some Bobbi Brown cosmetics and this week after too many months of rocking the Umpa-Lumpa/Jersery Shore glow of the visage, I decided it was time to go out and get my winter shade foundation. My summer shade worked perfectly fine, in the summer, when my skin was sun kissed and bursting with freckles, but it wasn’t working so well now that I’m showcasing my non-sun kissed, but still freckly, paler winter coat. In fact it was “Bad Make-Up 101″ and I knew it but had somehow convinced myself that with some ferocious blending and the magic dusting of a little bronzer around the neck area, all would be fine and I could continue fooling myself into thinking I wasn’t that pale freckle faced girl from Ireland, but an olive skinned mediterranean goddess instead. But hey, if pale and freckly is what I am, then its about time I owned it, cos lord knows nobody can or every should aspire to own the Umpa-Lumpa look.

While I was at the make-up counter I might have gotten a little carried away and also invested in a new lipstick and primer. Ooopsie! But trust me, it could have been a lot worse, this was me operating under restraint.

He’s always so willing to help. A real people-pleaser. Crookie is a sensitive soul and wants nothing more than for people to like him, but only after he decides he likes you. If he doesn’t like you, trust me, you’ll know, or more accurately, your ankles will know. Dexter on the other hand is a self-pleaser and dances to the beat of his own drum. You can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, unless you come baring treats, and even at that he’ll only give you the bare minimum of his time and effort. So this afternoon when I took my camera out to practice my shooting skills in harsh light, I knew Crookie would be the man to model. He’s patient (well, compared to Dexter), obedient (again, if compared to Dexter) but more importantly the harsh sunlight meant he got to channel his inner rock-star……

…..and I believe his elevated level of coolness might have made Dexter a little jealous.

Then The Husband arrived home, so I made him part of the exercise by grabbing a wee family shot, just in time for Crookie to be completely over it.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a girl with a taste for the classically old. I write with a fountain pen, I read Jane Austen, I’ve just finished watching all 5 seasons of The Tudors and am now dealing with some very serious Henry VIII cold-turkey type withdrawals. And while I embrace almost fully, the universal shift to all things electronic, I worry about the future of all things paper. You see, I happen to be a big fan of paper. I’m obsessed with pretty stationary and any kind of paper that can be personalized. I love books and the sense of accomplishment I feel with each new book I finish and how well they look all stacked up on my shelves. Its the exact same buzz I get when wedding albums arrive for my brides. The black boxes containing albums of the top grain luxurious leather, I can’t help but squeal with excitement as I flip through the pages of images that will forever memorialize the wedding day of each of my fabulous couples. In this time of iPhones, iPads, Tablets, and even Facebook, digital images have become a very important way for couples to share their special day with family and friends, but there is just something so timeless, elegant and classy about a traditional wedding album. The first family heirloom the couple can treasure and proudly display in their home, so that 50 years from now, when Facebook has morphed into something completely different and instead of smart phones and iPads we are using god knows what instead, the album is something I truly believe will stand the test of time.

This week while working with one of my brides to select the images for her wedding album, I picked up the completed album for another of my fabulous couples, Jennifer and Martin. Their wedding album turned out amazing and I couldn’t help but share some snapshots of the final product.

As always I use Azura for all my Wedding and Guest Sign In Albums and my layouts are designed by the every talented Amy from Albumesque.

We are having a baby boy. YAY! And here he is, looking more like a baby than his previous mugshot, at least to us anyway. Most of the ultra-sound photos today were focused on the baby’s major organs and bone structure, making sure all is progressing well in that department, but the technician did give us this little face profile image. You may need to squint, shut one eye and tilt your head, hop on one leg or pour yourself a large vodka, but eventually you should be able to see the outline of a head, nose and mouth.

Everyone has a theory, little tidbits of insight that supposedly tell me if my our baby is going to be a boy or a girl. For example:

- If my skin is glowy, my hair thick, full and shiny, then I’m having a boy: Well as luck would have it, I look like complete sh*t. My skin is red and blotchy. I have a fresh new spot to bust almost daily and my hair has never looked so dull and lifeless. Conclusion: I’m having a girl and apparently she is making herself a skin of milk and honey and a mane so thick and glossy she’ll be the envy of Kate Middleton’s and Gisele Bundchen’s everywhere, all at my expense.

- Craving meats and cheeses = boy: This is absolutely all I wanted in my first trimester, a diet based largely on the principles of a caveman. Which will make perfect sense if I am in fact having a boy. Manly, meaty, strong and all that good old testosterone based stuff. If however it turns out to be a girl, then I see competitive weight lifting, WWE or mud-wrestling in her future. God help us, we will love her still.

- Carrying low = boy, high = girl. Ok, I have no idea what the definition carrying high or low is, all I know is there is a bump containing a baby in my mid-section.

- If my nose is spreading, I’m having a boy: What??? I mean, WTF??? A spreading nose??? I don’t even know what that is. All I know is I want no part of it.

- Moodier moods than normal = girl: Well go figure. This, am sure, was suggested by a man. As it turns out, I’ve been no moodier than my usual moody self, but I have experienced these moods in the extremes. The Husband will absolutely concur.

- Gassier than normal = boy: Cos I’m a lady, made of sugar and spice and all things nice, this topic is way too embarrassing to talk about. But lets just say there’s a good chance my baby is a boy and leave it at that.

So based on the above pooled together knowledge, we are no wiser in figuring out if our baby is a boy or a girl, but at this point it doesn’t matter, cos Monday we find out for sure and I couldn’t be more excited. I think its a girl and The Husband thinks its a boy, luckily one of us has a good chance of being right. We don’t have a preference either way, its just gonna be cool to know.