Misti Rae & Adam

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Oh man. I am grateful that I have these photos as words truly could not do this most amazing night justice. Misti and Adam's wedding was truly a one of a kind, stunningly fun and fabulous event at the Stax Museum of Soul, and I'm simply thrilled that they chose me - ME - to document their day. Misti and Adam, congratulations!! It was truly an honor.

disco ball














green dance




















MIsti & Adam's First Look

First Look

Ellee at One Year: Sneak

Saturday, June 16, 2012

I've had the absolute privilege of watching - and photographing - the exquisite Miss Ellee since she arrived on this planet. So I know I'm likely biased, but c'mon. They don't make em much lovelier than this. Happy Birthday, Ellee!


Jack: sneak peek

Friday, June 15, 2012


The sweetest little peak of adorable, seven day old Jack. Welcome to the world, baby boy!


Thursday, June 14, 2012

I don't read much these days. Books, magazines, blogs. Podcasts have been the new blog for me as I can free up those eyes to edit and watch my kiddos rather than get sucked down into the rabbit hole of information overload.

But I still check out old fave Design*Sponge, and today, they are totally checking ME out! Well, my stairs and card catalog desk that my MacGyver husband overhauled in our extreme home makeover. I'm really proud to share some of my home with D*S Before & After
readers, and you can check it out right here!

You are not special

Wednesday, June 13, 2012


As a mother, I think about this topic on a daily basis, watching my child burn through reams of printer paper in her quest to fill every available space with art.Every painting, every illustrated story, every blobby heart with the written declaration that she loves mom gets exaggerated oohs and that's amazings and other over the top exclamations. It thrills me that she loves to draw like her father, that she can sit for an hour with such focus to create. I like covering up precious refrigerator real estate with her work. But the other day she lamented that a kid at school didn't believe she was "a great artist." The declaration froze me in my tracks.

Because she's not. She can't be. She's five. But she certainly believes it, and she believes it because I made it so.

My mom, as my mom is wont to do, sent me a parenting column (John Rosemond, "Living with Children" that focused on praising your children.

I recently came across a study showing that when adults praise ability, performance actually worsens. Praising effort, on the other hand, raises performance over time. This is the difference between telling a child he’s really good at math and telling a child you’re proud of how much effort he put forth studying for the math test (irrespective of his grade). Over time, the former child’s math grades are likely to go down, while the latter child’s go up.

The words resonated with me. We are the overpraising, helicopter parenting, everyone gets a trophy generation, after all.

But what's worse, is that I am one of the earliest test cases for You are Special Syndrome. I have the third place ribbons. The Most Improved Swimmer trophy from summer athletic camp. The honorable mentions. And I am here to tell you that for a large part of my twenties and thirties, I had a really hard time understanding why no one recognized how Special I was. Why weren't the literary agents beating down my door instead of sending me rejection slips? Why hadn't I been discovered in a cafe? (That girl - the one who looks so pensive sitting there, writing. We must sign her immediately!) While I certainly worked, I spent perhaps an equal amount of time wishing, hoping my life would change because I deserved it. I should leave spent that hour rewriting. I entered contests, knowing the results would change my life. It never did. Still hasn't, but fortunately my warped system of belief hasn't destroyed the legitimate love I have for expressing myself as a writer. Rita Mae Brown's wise words echo in my ears: Don't hope more than you are willing to work

And that is why I am stunned and thrilled by David McCollough's recent high school commencement speech that is on the verge of going viral, and deservedly so. In it, he tells the fresh-faced, gowned, and tasseled graduates that they are not special. In front of their own parents. It is a remarkably brave and witty speech. It was not, as some upset parents contend, cruel, or Mr. McCollough's attempt to abuse the spotlight. It was sage, bracing, wise advice from someone who has likely lived it himself. (Mr. McCollough is the son of famed historian David McCollough). Here is the speech in it's entirety. I'm gonna get back to not telling Harlow what an outrageously talented artist she is. But compliment her on her focus and determination? Absolutely.

*artwork above is one of my favorite Harlow Sweazy originals and soon to be new blog header

Emily and Greg are married: sneak

Monday, June 11, 2012

Here is the tiniest sneak from Emily and Greg's STUNNING wedding at Heartwood Hall this past weekend. I'm still soaking in all the details and care that went into making their day truly extraordinary. Congrats to the newlyweds! Much more to come!!







Rock N Roll

Thursday, June 7, 2012

I sent my five year old to Rock N Romp camp this week and got back this:

Rock n roll

Re: today's ensemble

Me: Harlow, you look so cool!

H: I know! I totally look like a drummer who could catch her sticks.