Matt and I spent last Saturday morning with a family that doesn’t take a bad photo in a place that has no unfortunate angles. Our session in the Brooklyn Botanic Garden could not have gone better.

A casual stroll through the rose garden...looking like a million bucks.

A casual stroll through the rose garden…looking like a million bucks.

We weren’t sure how the girls’ disparate ages (5 years and 7 months) would play out in photographs, but attentive big sister L. clearly adored her baby sister M. and kept her entertained all morning long.


We let L. produce this shot. She chose the location and spread out the books and if I could pull her out of kindergarten and hire her full-time as a creative director, I would.


Fortunately M.’s chubby knees kept her center of gravity low so she didn’t tip over TOO much.

Normally I just assist Matt on our photo shoots, but on Saturday I had to act as bodyguard to keep random flower tourists from smothering the children with hugs and kisses. If I’d let anyone breach our perimeter, L. and M. would’ve quickly had lipstick all over their cheeks and we would’ve had to pause the session so people could pay their lengthy compliments to Mom and Dad on their beautiful family. Selfishly, I wanted the beautiful family all to myself. I’m already planning to copy M.’s diet so my future kid will have fat rolls in all the same places.


These two smiles brighten the most overcast days and make even the Spanish bluebells seem dull in comparison.

When Matt started taking pictures of Dad with his precious girls, Mom and I pretty much lost it. At one point we were both trying to sing “Wheels on the Bus” while tears dripped down our cheeks. I’ve obsessed over my share of puppy and panda bear videos on YouTube, but I don’t think I totally understood the concept of “cuteness overload” until Saturday.

Heart explodes.

Heart explodes. RIP Wistar.