Okay, here’s the deal. Once upon a time, at the ripe age of 3, I galloped across the bowling alley to see my dad who, as was routine, launched me into the air like the tiny dancer I was, only to be greeted by a fan blade to the forehead. What happened next is a blur because of the pain, but mostly because I was 3 and now I’m 35 so I can’t recall. But I imagine it sounded like kittens dying.

A number of stitches, and chocolate ice cream later, and I haven’t been the same since. You see, I was *probably* going to be your regular corporate overachiever. But then my dad had to go launch me into a ceiling fan and I haven’t fit into a box since. BTW, I hate chocolate ice cream now. Coincidence? I doubt it. ANYWAYS, now I'm a photographer, a mom x5, working at weird hours of the night, and raising my babies with a happy heart. It's probably my dad's fault.

Hi,I'm Blakely

New braunfels family & MOTHERHOOD photographer

and mom x5

How'd I get here? It's a really long story, made for desktop, but here's the jist— When I was 3 my dad threw me into a ceiling fan and the fan blade hit the part of my brain that was going to grow up and be a corporate overachiever like my brother. This hasn't been medically confirmed but I can feel it. 

I did the college thing and the corporate marketing thing and every day at the office felt like squeezing into a pre-pregnancy body suit while 42 weeks pregnant with my 4th kid. It didn't fit.

So I did a little soul searching, a lot of whining "whyyyy meeee Goddddd", definitely some crying, picked up my camera again, and built this website. 

It turned out that the thing I love to do the most was sitting in a backpack on the floor by my bed all along. so hey! hi! Wanna take some pics?