welcome to the Blog 

Isn’t it pretty? I am in LOVE….like 100% in love with the new look of Enchanted Hill.

I have been wanting to change the design around for about a year, despite hearing that my site was ‘fine’ and ‘okay’. The previous design was handmade by me, it was simple, functional and it worked but now? Ummm… HELLO GORGEOUS!! You cannot beat, hands down, a professional website made by a professional designer. These people are the bomb, they know their stuff, they know how to make the plain incredible and how to take simple to fantastic.

What I love the most is it highlights what I love to photograph the most…newborns. I still photograph families, children and graduates and the occasional wedding but now when you open the site you know what I am about.

I get excited about little thing like this because to me this is my store, when you walk in (aka open your browser) I want you to smile, look at pretty pictures, see the pretty walls and graphics and smile a little more because it is lovely.

I have changed the look of my website a few time of the past few years but always worrying if it was the right choice, colours, fonts. This time I knew this was it and it was perfect:)

Isn’t it pretty? I am in LOVE….like 100% in love with the new look of Enchanted Hill.

I have been wanting to change the design around for about a year, despite hearing that my site was ‘fine’ and ‘okay’. The previous design was handmade by me, it was simple, functional and it worked but now? Ummm… HELLO GORGEOUS!! You cannot beat, hands down, a professional website made by a professional designer. These people are the bomb, they know their stuff, they know how to make the plain incredible and how to take simple to fantastic.

What I love the most is it highlights what I love to photograph the most…newborns. I still photograph families, children and graduates and the occasional wedding but now when you open the site you know what I am about.

I get excited about little thing like this because to me this is my store, when you walk in (aka open your browser) I want you to smile, look at pretty pictures, see the pretty walls and graphics and smile a little more because it is lovely.

I have changed the look of my website a few time of the past few years but always worrying if it was the right choice, colours, fonts. This time I knew this was it and it was perfect:)

I know I will be looking back as this year as a year of change.

Kathleen blithely started school, the boys are loosing their baby chubbiness and I can see the bones of adulthood starting to show in Peter’s almost 10 year old face.  I find myself having to explain adult subjects like drugs and violence to the older three because they are no longer blissfully unaware of what is going on in the world.

Josh has changed careers. My career has been growing slowly to include a studio in the city and seeing my work published in several magazines.

Our little house, that would bought when Peter was a baby, that we have renovated, that we have celebrated every single holiday in; is now for sale and a new house is being bought. A larger house, a ‘dream’ house. A house our kids will have space to play, Josh and I will have room to entertain friends and family.

We are expecting another little one, with the realization that this will probably be the last baby for our family.

Cecilia is growing and developing to the beat of her own drum and teaching us to enjoy each day, to take things slower.

I look back over these past ten years and realized how much I have changed as a mother, wife and person. I was 23 when my name changed from Carla to Mom and now I am 33.  I used to think that I had no identity outside of my children or careers. There were many times I had felt lost in my roles. And yet somewhere along the journey I did find myself.  My hobby and ‘me’ time is my photography and my favourite subjects are my children. I am blessed to be able to document their days and moments. These past ten years have flown by so fast, and seeing that my boys now take the same size shoes as I do is a testament to this fact.

I have learned to slow down, calm down and worry a little less. Tantrums in stores don’t even phase me anymore. I have learned I need to fight and push to make sure my son’s special needs are met. I have learned that life is sweeter if we all grab a quilt, pile on the couch (yes, 6 people on ONE couch) watch a movie and ignore the pile of laundry. The laundry will be there tomorrow but my kids will be a bit bigger and that couch feels like it is getting smaller and smaller.

I have learned that I don’t need to throw Pinterest worthy birthday parties to make my kid’s lives magical, I just need to turn off their cartoons and tell them to go play.

Motherhood is hard, is beautiful, it is bittersweet and it ends too soon. My goal is to teach my children to find happiness and love. Two gifts they have given me.

I know I will be looking back as this year as a year of change.

Kathleen blithely started school, the boys are loosing their baby chubbiness and I can see the bones of adulthood starting to show in Peter’s almost 10 year old face.  I find myself having to explain adult subjects like drugs and violence to the older three because they are no longer blissfully unaware of what is going on in the world.

Josh has changed careers. My career has been growing slowly to include a studio in the city and seeing my work published in several magazines.

Our little house, that would bought when Peter was a baby, that we have renovated, that we have celebrated every single holiday in; is now for sale and a new house is being bought. A larger house, a ‘dream’ house. A house our kids will have space to play, Josh and I will have room to entertain friends and family.

We are expecting another little one, with the realization that this will probably be the last baby for our family.

Cecilia is growing and developing to the beat of her own drum and teaching us to enjoy each day, to take things slower.

I look back over these past ten years and realized how much I have changed as a mother, wife and person. I was 23 when my name changed from Carla to Mom and now I am 33.  I used to think that I had no identity outside of my children or careers. There were many times I had felt lost in my roles. And yet somewhere along the journey I did find myself.  My hobby and ‘me’ time is my photography and my favourite subjects are my children. I am blessed to be able to document their days and moments. These past ten years have flown by so fast, and seeing that my boys now take the same size shoes as I do is a testament to this fact.

I have learned to slow down, calm down and worry a little less. Tantrums in stores don’t even phase me anymore. I have learned I need to fight and push to make sure my son’s special needs are met. I have learned that life is sweeter if we all grab a quilt, pile on the couch (yes, 6 people on ONE couch) watch a movie and ignore the pile of laundry. The laundry will be there tomorrow but my kids will be a bit bigger and that couch feels like it is getting smaller and smaller.

I have learned that I don’t need to throw Pinterest worthy birthday parties to make my kid’s lives magical, I just need to turn off their cartoons and tell them to go play.

Motherhood is hard, is beautiful, it is bittersweet and it ends too soon. My goal is to teach my children to find happiness and love. Two gifts they have given me.

You never know how blessed you truly are until you are faced with the worst news. We never knew. Cecilia taught us. Our fourth baby and second daughter was born after 2 days of labor. We had no idea of the gender and were thrilled of another little girl. Choosing a name this time was hard, we had thought and planned for a boy and barely gave much thought to a girl’s name (which was foolish since we didn’t know the gender and it was an obvious 50% of either gender). My husband finally typed her name on the phone Cecilia Elizabeth and we brought home a sweet  pink little girl with the daintiest and quaintest name.

Within days of arriving home there was a sinking feeling in our stomachs. Something was not right. We kept going back to the doctor and the doctor looked grave. We were sent to the hospital, seen by specialists and soon tubes and wires were keeping her alive. I refer to it as the time Cecilia and I moved into paediatrics and stayed for several weeks. She was fighting for her life and we were told there was no promise that she would come home with us. I never knew how blessed we were in regards to our children’s health. We have never had a sick child, never had to pray against the unknown. Friends and family came to support us.

Cecilia rallied and we soon brought her home for good. She was our happy and snuggly baby. I didn’t realize how much I missed that baby stage! She was also the first baby who was a ‘Daddy’s Girl’, she loved everyone but no one could soothe her quite like Daddy. Her day was spent with her eyes and ears on the front door, waiting for him to come home from work.

My new career as a photographer was still slowly growing, I was able to focus on my family when needed and felt I was achieving a glance between work and life that fit our lifestyle. I was enjoying motherhood, a new baby, busy little children too much to worry about the rate of growth (or lack of it) my business took.

You never know how blessed you truly are until you are faced with the worst news. We never knew. Cecilia taught us. Our fourth baby and second daughter was born after 2 days of labor. We had no idea of the gender and were thrilled of another little girl. Choosing a name this time was hard, we had thought and planned for a boy and barely gave much thought to a girl’s name (which was foolish since we didn’t know the gender and it was an obvious 50% of either gender). My husband finally typed her name on the phone Cecilia Elizabeth and we brought home a sweet  pink little girl with the daintiest and quaintest name.

Within days of arriving home there was a sinking feeling in our stomachs. Something was not right. We kept going back to the doctor and the doctor looked grave. We were sent to the hospital, seen by specialists and soon tubes and wires were keeping her alive. I refer to it as the time Cecilia and I moved into paediatrics and stayed for several weeks. She was fighting for her life and we were told there was no promise that she would come home with us. I never knew how blessed we were in regards to our children’s health. We have never had a sick child, never had to pray against the unknown. Friends and family came to support us.

Cecilia rallied and we soon brought her home for good. She was our happy and snuggly baby. I didn’t realize how much I missed that baby stage! She was also the first baby who was a ‘Daddy’s Girl’, she loved everyone but no one could soothe her quite like Daddy. Her day was spent with her eyes and ears on the front door, waiting for him to come home from work.

My new career as a photographer was still slowly growing, I was able to focus on my family when needed and felt I was achieving a glance between work and life that fit our lifestyle. I was enjoying motherhood, a new baby, busy little children too much to worry about the rate of growth (or lack of it) my business took.

One child home. One Mother home. The transition of being a stay at home Mom had its ups and downs. No more missed meetings at the school, no more worrying about juggling clients schedules so I could make it to the boys hockey games. My schedule revolved around them…and yet I found ways (hobbies!) to keep busy.

I sewed for Kathleen, I baked, we went for walks, I had bought a fancy camera and I was reading and learning how to use it better.

The year however felt LONG. I crafted and sold things at craft fairs. I snapped more pictures. Kathleen drove me crazy. Art the time I blamed it on her age, she was three turning four. She had been the easiest toddler and now she seemed to have danced to the other side of the spectrum and was plain and simple difficult! The more I thought about the ‘problem’ I was having with her constant whining and nagging me was she was BORED. I was BORED. She like to craft, she likes to draw, to learn, to keep busy. By giving her a project to do- a paint brush and a little paint, of scissors and glue…she was happy for hours. I realized I missed working, I missed having a business and began making plans again.

The boys were north in school, they would come home and tell me about their own little lives, their friends and games. Hockey filled our winters, soccer in the spring and summer. Like true siblings the three fought with each other constantly. I learned my children could argue about what colour the sky was just for the sake of arguing! This was a fun time for our family. Josh and I loved doing day adventures to different attractions in our province, we went on summer vacations, to fairs.  Every holiday was alive and the anticipation was felt in the air.

It was also a bit bittersweet, seeing that we no longer had any babies in the house. No more diapers, no more waking at night, in a sense we wondered if we were moving on to the next stage in our life…or maybe we would think of another little one?

One child home. One Mother home. The transition of being a stay at home Mom had its ups and downs. No more missed meetings at the school, no more worrying about juggling clients schedules so I could make it to the boys hockey games. My schedule revolved around them…and yet I found ways (hobbies!) to keep busy.

I sewed for Kathleen, I baked, we went for walks, I had bought a fancy camera and I was reading and learning how to use it better.

The year however felt LONG. I crafted and sold things at craft fairs. I snapped more pictures. Kathleen drove me crazy. Art the time I blamed it on her age, she was three turning four. She had been the easiest toddler and now she seemed to have danced to the other side of the spectrum and was plain and simple difficult! The more I thought about the ‘problem’ I was having with her constant whining and nagging me was she was BORED. I was BORED. She like to craft, she likes to draw, to learn, to keep busy. By giving her a project to do- a paint brush and a little paint, of scissors and glue…she was happy for hours. I realized I missed working, I missed having a business and began making plans again.

The boys were north in school, they would come home and tell me about their own little lives, their friends and games. Hockey filled our winters, soccer in the spring and summer. Like true siblings the three fought with each other constantly. I learned my children could argue about what colour the sky was just for the sake of arguing! This was a fun time for our family. Josh and I loved doing day adventures to different attractions in our province, we went on summer vacations, to fairs.  Every holiday was alive and the anticipation was felt in the air.

It was also a bit bittersweet, seeing that we no longer had any babies in the house. No more diapers, no more waking at night, in a sense we wondered if we were moving on to the next stage in our life…or maybe we would think of another little one?

My seventh year of motherhood I wanted it ALL…I wanted the career, I wanted ME time, I wanted to be a great Mom.

I was traveling for work, every 5-6 weeks I would fly out and be gone for nearly a week. My husband and family held down the fort. The stress of worrying about what was going on and at home balanced with the exhilaration of being Carla again. I loved my work, I loved meeting with colleagues, going to restaurants and not worrying about anyone’s behaviour, not sharing my meal, sleeping in a bed uninterrupted….

For the first time in my life I was on my own.  For the first time I only had to worry about myself. For the first part of the year I revelled selfishly in this little mini ‘break’ from motherhood and then the glitter fell away and I found myself homesick. Tired of the hotels that all looked the same. Tired of restaurant food. Tired of getting back from a busy day to call and only find out the kids had gone to bed already.  I was waking up at night, listening. My body and brain were waiting for the normal wake up of someone crying, needing a pacifier, a diaper change and drink…

I had so much time to myself, to think about what was really going on with my life. I wanted it all; the career and being Mom. I wanted to stay home and be there when they needed me but I like feeling important to the outside world too, I like having options and a little independence.  I realized that I COULD have it all but it also meant not giving the job or my kids 100%…or even 50/50…somedays the balance changes. There would be sacrifices and disappointments. There would always be someone else to judge my decisions.

And then it was over. An injury helped make a decision I knew was coming.  I would like to say I never looked back but I did but I don’t regret that year.

I had to add this picture…it just makes me laugh:)

My seventh year of motherhood I wanted it ALL…I wanted the career, I wanted ME time, I wanted to be a great Mom.

I was traveling for work, every 5-6 weeks I would fly out and be gone for nearly a week. My husband and family held down the fort. The stress of worrying about what was going on and at home balanced with the exhilaration of being Carla again. I loved my work, I loved meeting with colleagues, going to restaurants and not worrying about anyone’s behaviour, not sharing my meal, sleeping in a bed uninterrupted….

For the first time in my life I was on my own.  For the first time I only had to worry about myself. For the first part of the year I revelled selfishly in this little mini ‘break’ from motherhood and then the glitter fell away and I found myself homesick. Tired of the hotels that all looked the same. Tired of restaurant food. Tired of getting back from a busy day to call and only find out the kids had gone to bed already.  I was waking up at night, listening. My body and brain were waiting for the normal wake up of someone crying, needing a pacifier, a diaper change and drink…

I had so much time to myself, to think about what was really going on with my life. I wanted it all; the career and being Mom. I wanted to stay home and be there when they needed me but I like feeling important to the outside world too, I like having options and a little independence.  I realized that I COULD have it all but it also meant not giving the job or my kids 100%…or even 50/50…somedays the balance changes. There would be sacrifices and disappointments. There would always be someone else to judge my decisions.

And then it was over. An injury helped make a decision I knew was coming.  I would like to say I never looked back but I did but I don’t regret that year.

I had to add this picture…it just makes me laugh:)

Three children meant we had more children then the majority of our friends. Three children and people make comments, ‘You must have your hands full.’ Three children meant a new stage in parenthood. Enter the mini van. I won’t deny it but I LOVE my Mom van. There was no sense of ‘cool’ in me at any time in my life so I didn’t feel a loss of my old life. I loved the space. The ability to spread everyone out so no one could touch each other (less fighting!).

Having daughter was like having an ally. I won’t deny I had fun dressing her, putting bows on her, buying her dolls. Kathleen was snuggly and delightfully girlish. When my boys would horrify me with worms they brought in the house, she would balance life with hugging her dolls.

I read articles on not forcing our kids to be the stereotypical ‘boys’ or ‘girls’ , felt guilt when I realized I only bought pink for her and then I shook my head. She was happy. I was happy. There were many years ahead that she could choose her clothes and tell me what she liked and didn’t like and for now I was revelling in her dainty pink frills.

Peter had started school and Josh and I held our breathes. We worried, he seemed so young  but we were reassured.  We had only mastered potty training weeks before kindergarten had started. He had only shed the beloved binky a few months prior. He loved going, he loved the friends and recess. The mornings were rough, after school was rough. Lots of tears, lots of tantrums. Many days I couldn’t get him to leave the van and we would return home with him.

Finally a diagnosis of autism. There was nothing more heartbreaking then having a doctor tell you that your child is not perfect. Broken. There was something not working in his brain. We were in denial and went to another doctor, a specialist and received the same diagnosis.

As a parent we mourned. We mourned what we though was a lost future. We mourned the scary unknowns we were now facing. Even though we had suspected there was something, hearing the official words was life altering. It was also a breath of relief. We were bad parents, we were not over exaggerating, we had been coping.

Three children meant we had more children then the majority of our friends. Three children and people make comments, ‘You must have your hands full.’ Three children meant a new stage in parenthood. Enter the mini van. I won’t deny it but I LOVE my Mom van. There was no sense of ‘cool’ in me at any time in my life so I didn’t feel a loss of my old life. I loved the space. The ability to spread everyone out so no one could touch each other (less fighting!).

Having daughter was like having an ally. I won’t deny I had fun dressing her, putting bows on her, buying her dolls. Kathleen was snuggly and delightfully girlish. When my boys would horrify me with worms they brought in the house, she would balance life with hugging her dolls.

I read articles on not forcing our kids to be the stereotypical ‘boys’ or ‘girls’ , felt guilt when I realized I only bought pink for her and then I shook my head. She was happy. I was happy. There were many years ahead that she could choose her clothes and tell me what she liked and didn’t like and for now I was revelling in her dainty pink frills.

Peter had started school and Josh and I held our breathes. We worried, he seemed so young  but we were reassured.  We had only mastered potty training weeks before kindergarten had started. He had only shed the beloved binky a few months prior. He loved going, he loved the friends and recess. The mornings were rough, after school was rough. Lots of tears, lots of tantrums. Many days I couldn’t get him to leave the van and we would return home with him.

Finally a diagnosis of autism. There was nothing more heartbreaking then having a doctor tell you that your child is not perfect. Broken. There was something not working in his brain. We were in denial and went to another doctor, a specialist and received the same diagnosis.

As a parent we mourned. We mourned what we though was a lost future. We mourned the scary unknowns we were now facing. Even though we had suspected there was something, hearing the official words was life altering. It was also a breath of relief. We were bad parents, we were not over exaggerating, we had been coping.