If you’ve ever endured a photography session at a traditional studio, perhaps inside a mall or department store, I’m guessing you’ve had an experience that goes a little something like this:
You show up about 10 minutes prior to your scheduled appointment time, entering a room that has nearly reached fire code capacity. There are no seats to be found amidst the sea of denim and Aqua Net, so you send the family into the lobby while you fight your way to the counter to check in. Returning to the lobby, you find your son has successfully managed to remove every last trace of gel from his hair and your daughter is lying down on the ground, shoes off, practicing what appears to be the “stop, drop and roll” technique.
By the time they call you back into the broom closet to take photos, the kids are on the verge of a stage 5 meltdown and the adults are no longer speaking except through clenched teeth. Despite the photographer’s desperate attempts at amusing a 3-year-old with a dog toy, the uproarious enthusiasm that played out in the lobby is nowhere to be found.
In an effort to avoid this grueling experience and to take a photo that captures the true-to-life spirit of their children, many families have forgone or at least supplemented the traditional “pose and say cheese” studios with what is known as “lifestyle photography.” Continue reading
I remember growing up having to eat one pea for every year old I was.
8 peas?!?! Are you kidding me?!?! This is my nightmare!!
An entire glass of milk, 20 minutes, and 8 gags later… I still had 4 more peas to go. Let’s just say I haven’t always been a fan of the green stuff.
Well, karma has come full circle and blessed me with a son who shares my picky childhood palette.
If I put a pile of peas on his plate, his body goes straight rigor mortis style and his eyes pop out like I just put a flaming pile of dog poo on the table.
And then the solution found me. Continue reading
If suddenly your husband becomes pale, short of breath, dizzy, fatigued, is complaining of weakness and a headache and he isn’t anemic, there’s probably a reasonable explanation for it—you just told him that there’s something you NEED at IKEA and he gets to accompany you this weekend. Nothing gets a sane person more fired up than desperately trying to corral a possessed shopping cart that will go any direction but straight (seriously what is it with their carts?!) through mobs of indecisive and over-stimulated nincompoops, past aisles upon aisles of empty wicker baskets and overstyled bookshelves. And yet, we still subject ourselves to it, over and over again, always swearing that we won’t do “that” again. Right… Continue reading
When I was a little kid, I got a real, working, mini laminator machine one year for Christmas.
You read that correctly.
As you can probably imagine my reaction was one of complete shock and utter…. ELATION!!!! Oh yeah baby! I got right to work, laminating anything and everything I could get my hands on (there’s nothing like the smell of burnt plastic in the morning). Continue reading