We found three behind the scenes images from our last wedding that just needed to be shared. The time we set aside for portraits is always our favorite part of the entire wedding day timeline because we get to hang out with our awesome couples. We spend most of the time laughing with them, but after looking at these images, they may just be laughing at us. Either way, here are three images that sum it all up.

We brought in a special wind machine for this one.

We caught Marissa mid-”seriously??” in this one as Jordan stole her husband from her for a bromance moment. So romantic.

Lastly, Internet, we have to introduce Meggie, our ah-mazing assistant with arms of steel, who really deserves a post of her own. And because everyone’s hair looks so great in this one, we’ve saved the best for last.

We had plans to cozy up in the corner of Starbucks, gaze into each other’s eyes and plan for the future. Our goal setting would be romantic and hip all at the same time. We’d use our iPhone 5s while we sip something trendy, and then we would Instagram our coffee with a witty caption. It would look like an Apple commercial and we would laugh in slow motion.

Instead, we cozied up in sweat pants, on the couch, with a blanket, and a clipboard. And we wrote out our goals with pen and paper. It might not have been very 2013, and certainly would not have been cute in slow motion, but we accomplished a lot. We talked about our dreams, and how to turn them into realities. And it felt much more us. Here’s to kicking off the new year Amy and Jordan style! Happy 2013!

Photo Credit: Kari Jeanne Photography

A long time ago, we were elementary school students, doing what all little ones do the week of Thanksgiving: We wore Pilgrim hats and Squanto headdresses. We ate a Thanksgiving “feast” prepared by the room moms who wore white sweaters with Thanksgiving designs that we’d created for them using puffy paint. (C’mon, you know we all had one.) And, most importantly, we traced our little grubby hands on brown construction paper and, using each finger, made a list of the five things we were most thankful for. We pulled these “creations” out this week to take a look back, to get a better sense of ourselves. We thought that Jordan’s list would’ve included Ninja Turtles, Nerf guns, and Gameboys. We were sure that Amy’s would’ve surely had Disney princesses, Tamagotchis, and Beanie Babies. But they didn’t. Not even close. Our lists included things like “My mom and dad,” “My friends,” and “Jesus.” Through our construction paper hats, messy food-filled faces, and puffy paint sweaters, we were able to see what adults sometimes miss around the holidays, that the most important things can’t be worn, eaten, or crafted with puffy paint. Our lists included things that were meaningful. As adults, we’ve come to realize that one of the reasons God gave us five fingers is so that we’ll never forget what’s most important in life, that if you’ve got your first five, you’ll be just fine.

I was sick as a dog. My kleenex needed kleenex. I had been on antibiotics long enough to prevent being contagious, but not long enough to prevent the feeling that I had been hit by a truck. It was not pretty. But none of that mattered. Because it was a wedding day. I resolved to cling tightly to the adrenaline that comes from a wedding day high, and committed to being as professional and as normal as ever. And, together, we did it. We laughed with the bridesmaids, found the perfect place to hang the dress, swooned over the beautiful bride and groom, directed family photos, made sure to stay on the timeline, captured each moment of the ceremony, and spent the reception dancing the night away with camera in hand until the clock struck midnight. And not one person knew that your pockets were full of my tissues.

As you found me in front of the sink at home that night, kleenex all around me, tears streaking down my face, in a state of exhaustion I had never felt before, you didn’t miss a beat. You instinctively wrapped your arms around me and you held me. You let me cry into your best tie, and you told me it was going to be okay. You ignored my blotchy, tear-stained face, and told me I was beautiful. You told me you had never been more proud of me. You were proud of the snot-nosed, red-faced mess formerly known as your wife. In that moment, I decided I had never loved you more.

Today, it’s your birthday. I want to thank you for being the man with my tissues in your pocket. For being the man who always makes me laugh and always makes me dinner. The man who I can share everything with and the man who shares my passion. The man who holds my hand in church, sings with me in the car, and, most of all, the man who makes me proud. The one who makes me better.

You are so much more than I could have ever expected. I love you. Happy birthday.

1. Amy is actually Italian. Nobody ever believes this when they see her because of that whole blonde hair, blue eye thing she has going on, but it’s true. Her maiden name confirms that she was probably related to Geppetto, Mario and the mob. She may not look Italian, but she sure eats like one.

2. Her first concert was The Backstreet Boys. Her favorite boy? AJ. The tattooed one that was losing his hair. When you taunt her about this, she defends it by saying, “But he was the best dancer!”

3. She’s a sucker for homemade cupcakes.

4. Amy smiles a lot from behind her camera. I’m pretty sure if she was hired as a costumed character at Disneyland, she would still smile behind her cartoon head for every picture, too.

5. She has every line of Tina Fey’s Mean Girls memorized, and finds ways to incorporate those lines into our daily life.

6. Is butter a carb?

7. Okay, this one is common knowledge, but Amy is a terrible cook. In fact, she’s not allowed in our kitchen during meal times. The one time she was left alone, THIS happened.

8. On a related note, she routinely uses our microwave as a campfire. Because who doesn’t love s’mores on a Wednesday?

9. Amy has some pretty sweet ninja skills when she shoots. She does a mean crouching tiger, hidden photographer.

10. She loves life. She believes in marriage. Her smile is contagious, and nothing makes her happier than capturing love from behind her lens.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw Scar from The Lion King. He crept out of his cave, one furry paw after the next. His sharp, cruel nails pricked the solid ground. The camera panned up, past his bushy, black mane, and I spotted that thin slice across his eye. His top lip slowly rose, revealing a sharp tooth, and his mouth grinned creepily up one side of his face. My body winced a little.

As children, something just told us immediately that all Disney villains, like Scar, were bad, bad news. Right away. Maybe it was the black in their hair, the red in their eyes, or the smirks on their faces. Or maybe it was something else. We’ve found that one of the best things about reading great business books is that they always seem to teach so much more than just business.

In his novel Blink, Malcolm Gladwell explains that our brains function like our own personal, internal “computer processing unit.” Our “CPU” is always working, taking more information than we can fathom and processing it all at once so we can make good decisions in the, well, blink of an eye.

He explains how art experts can spot frauds with just a glance, how emergency room doctors can diagnose patients on the fly, and how humans can spot the loves of their lives on speed dates – and all without the convenience of carbon-dated lab samples, family medical histories, or personal dating biographies. Gladwell suggests that the more information we have, and the longer we spend agonizing over a decision, the less likely it is that we’ll get it right. And although our  instant “CPUs” can be wrong, most of the time, Gladwell concludes, they’re right. We just have to trust them.

For so long, we’ve been slow decision makers. Deliberative people. We weigh every option and then choose the right course of action. After reading Blink, we’re convinced that there’s something to it, and we’re committing ourselves to trusting our instincts more in our business and listening to that voice in our head at home. If we do, odds are we’ll be more productive, and more successful, too.

Plus, whenever we need to sharpen that skill and refresh our own “CPUs”, there’ll be a shelf of Disney movies waiting for us. And what could be better than that?

Dear Olivia,

Thank you for bringing magic into our lives. We can’t believe you are already two! Every time Uncle Jo-Jo chases you as you giggle and hide under the blanket with Aunt Mi-Mi, press your cheek against the couch cushion, and bring your cute little finger to your lips to say “Shhh!” we fall more in love with you. We love your huge laugh and the way you can make “the evil eye” on command. We love your sense of adventure, your cute bouncy curls, and the way you pronounce “poodle.” You are our favorite person to play animals with, and we will never forget how you answer almost anything with one of the world’s toughest question: “Why?” These last two years with you have been a gift, and we cherish every second we get with you. Thank you for inviting us to your Minnie Mouse birthday party.

XOXO,

Auntie Mi-Mi and Uncle Jo-Jo

When I (Amy) was little, my mom used to take me to scrapbook parties. You maybe didn’t even know such a thing exists, but they do. And they’re actually pretty serious business. A group of moms would get together and bring their patterned paper, whimsical stickers and stacks of printed photographs, roll up the sleeves of their denim blouses (you know you had one) and spend hours at a time creating true works of art with their pictures. Hours would be poured into cropping each printed photograph with scissors and laying out each photo with special non-acidic adhesives. There were no short cuts. Digital was still a word reserved for clocks, Windows ’95 and beepers.

I, as a fourth grader, would spend hours with these women, and cut my own little photographs of things like recess, Girl Scout meetings and my cat, and carefully assemble my own scrapbooks. In fact, I was so committed, I kept them going, and had a personalized scrapbook every year until I became a junior in high school. And then I got a driver’s license. And AP classes. And enough hours at the dance studio to make anyone believe I lived there. And my meticulously hand-made scrapbooks got pushed to the wayside.

When Jordan and I got married, I made a vow to find a solution to keeping my own life documented in a format that didn’t include denim blouses and Saturdays with a mom’s club. And finally, I decided to give in, and go digital. It was the best decision I could have made. I design the books myself, and while they aren’t nearly the quality of a leather-bound wedding album, they’ve become a prized possession in our home. Friends will come over and ask,” Is the 2011 book done yet?? Did I make the book??,” and it’s become such a perfect way for me to make sure I’m not forgetting about our own memories while we work to capture everyone else’s. And while I’ve swapped my swirly-edged scissors for the click of a mouse, I still feel just as proud of them as I did back then.

You know that feeling when you’re little, in your footed reindeer pajamas, and it’s Christmas morning, and you’re using every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from ripping open every package you see? Well, Christmas came a little early for us this year. We were right back in our footed reindeer pajamas the second we saw this thing. Wrapped in mysterious black paper and even branded to reflect our logo, it was just screaming, “You wanna open me, eh?!”

You may ask, Why was your package talking to you like a Canadian? Well, because this package was from none other than Kari from Canada, of course. If you’re not familiar with Kari from Canada, be sure to catch up to speed here.

Our eyes lit up as we ripped open the box to find the greatest collection of Canadian paraphernalia ever. It had it all. T-shirts, flags, coffee mugs, you name it, it was in there. We felt extra Canadian as we pulled out the Tim Horton’s mix and the poutine, two things Kari had to describe to us several times during her stay.  Who says long distance relationships can’t work? We marched down the street proudly in our Canadian garb, and while we felt like temporary traitors of our country, and got a few nasty glances from the neighbors, we couldn’t have been happier to be honorary members of Kari from Canada’s secret club.