The Cabin with the Tiny Red Door

7 years ago.

We lived in the Conecuh National Forest. I sat very pregnant in our home of a tiny cement walled cabin. The one with the little red door. It was a chilly April morning, as it always was since the failing thermostat only kept the temperature at a balmy 50 degrees. My newly wed husband lovingly kissed my cheek, breathing the sweet words of ” Good Morning” into my ear. He handed me a hot cup of coffee and a warm blanket out of the dryer like he always did, helping me shuffle out the door and off to my 2 hour commute to college.

A lot has changed since then. We’ve been married for 8 wonderful years. We have 3 beautiful children. We moved from the forest, to Pensacola, Florida, then to Kokomo, Indiana. We purchased our first “new” car together. We purchased our first home together. We’ve started our dream careers. The Jessica Newton Photography studio is opening in just a few short weeks.

Sometimes I just. don’t. think. Do you ever have those days? Where you are just blurring through life at the speed of a meteor and you simply stop thinking. So many things to do, so many place to go, so many different people to be. The many hats of a friend, a spouse, a parent, a sibling, a daughter, and a business owner.

We all know that growth happens slowly, like the spring plants budding outside. But sometimes I just forget. I forget where I’ve come from.

I came from the cabin with the tiny red door.

When I was 10 months pregnant with our oldest son Oliver (who will be turning 7 this year), we moved out of the tiny cabin with the red door, and into our palace of an apartment. To say it was a palace is not an overstatement. It had a working thermostat, a dishwasher, a kitchen sink, a functioning stove, and a working refrigerator. Simple luxuries that didn’t exist at the tiny red door cabin. And we. were. ecstatic. We sold everything we owned that had value, we took jobs that we didn’t love, and we lived off of bologna sandwiches for at least a month. But we made it.

I came from the cabin with the tiny red door.

Needless to say, when our son was born, hiring a newborn photographer simply wasn’t an option. The alternative was to borrow my Dad’s “fancy” camera and to take the photos myself. So I did.

I’ve learned to love these images over time. Since they are of my sweet babe who was only this itty bitty of a little skinny chicken for such a short time. But at the time…well. they. were. awful. Oh how they were awful. I was SO upset. I had a nice camera, an adorable baby, and a cute outfit. But they didn’t look anything like Pinterest had promised. Why? What else was there? What was I missing? Why didn’t these images look like the ones I’d seen online?

I came from the cabin with the tiny red door.

Turns out I was missing a lot, though I didn’t know it at the time. I didn’t know that photography was complicated. That it takes an eye. That it takes knowledge. That it takes labor. That it takes practice. That it takes years. My curiosity on why the images didn’t turn out as I had hoped, opened up an entire other universe.

This is my little Oliver now, with his 3 year old brother Rex, and his newest baby brother Benji.

The difference between these images is this: 6 years. 6 years of constantly learning, and growing, and changing. These differences didn’t happen overnight, or even in one season, it took MULTIPLE seasons of life to create this change.

I came from the cabin with the tiny red door. And now I’m here.

This is Photo Mommy. A mother, desperate to preserve the memories of her children. A self taught business owner, that knows the struggle. A friend that knows how to share. A human being that loves to love. And that’s why I’m here. I want to share the knowledge that I’ve accumulated in the last almost 7 years, and share it with other parents out there.

If you are curious. If you are a person. If you love photography. This is for you. Welcome to Photo Mommy.

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