How to take better photos
Who are these naturally photogenic people and how do I become one of them?
I tend to be the one person in a group with my eyes closed or making some weird face.
For years, I hid behind the camera taking the pictures so I wasn’t in them. I felt too fat or not cute enough, my clothes made me look frumpy, I stood weird, my hair wasn’t done or my makeup was too light. You name it .. I had an excuse for why I shouldn’t be in the photo or why that one of me you just took was terrible.
Now that my girls are grown, though, I love looking back at old photos and seeing what I looked like then, but there are so few pics of me to choose from. My second daughter looks JUST LIKE me twenty years ago and I love to see the similarities. Also, I would literally pay money to be as skinny as I was back then when I thought I was too fat. Seriously, younger me was kind of a dumbass.
Still to this day, I truly do not enjoy seeing photos of myself which is probably surprising if you follow me on Instagram where my page is basically just photos of me. Why? Because I’m selling a product and that product is me - a whole, healthy and happy human being helping others to become the same. In all my analytics, photos of me perform better than stock photos or even those of my dogs. At the end of the day, I’m using social media as a tool and Instagram is visual. I’m creating the picture of what I’m offering through my writing, online courses and coaching packages. That meant I needed to get comfortable being in front of the camera.
This took practice and oh my goodness so many retakes. I googled “how to pose in photographs” because I’m special like that. I copied other people and tried to stand how they did. Most of the time, that looked pretty dumb when I did it. I practice posing in the mirror daily. I take photos, delete and repeat. I learned new apps.
I’ve learned a few tips along the way:
Learn your “good side” - practice with selfies so you can see what you’re doing.
Stick your chin out to the point that it feels weird.
Tilt your head slightly - rarely does straight on work well.
Shift your body to the side - it’s more flattering.
Hold your arms out - not resting against your body.
Presets are your friend - it takes the guesswork out of editing and makes your photos look better.
Lightroom is easy to learn and makes applying those presets pretty simple.
Do something, hold something, sit and stand - change it up and you’ll find what works for you.
iPhone users - Portrait mode / Studio light is your new best friend.
So regardless of what you do for a living or how active you are on social media, being in photos is still important. Knowing how to take good photos is a learned skill, so practice often. My advice? Just do it - be in the photos! Moms, your kids want to look back and see YOU in their photos, too. They see you every day and the way we look changes over time. Being able to see you in photos as they remember you is such a gift to them.
Am I a pushover parent? Grief sometimes wins.
Mourning the loss of a loved one, the end of your marriage or even the loss of a friendship all carry similarities of grief. Each is as unique as the person you’ve lost, but all grief carries the same traits. I devoted an entire chapter of my book, So You’re Divorced, So What?, to this concept. I walked through the stages of grief and offered my suggestions on how to move through them, but one important thing to consider is this: You don’t get over grief, you get through it. It’s not something that you deal with once and never to feel that loss again. It’s not linear and it never really makes sense. It’s fluid and flows like the waves in the ocean. Sometimes gentle and other times viscous and brutal. Each and every person will grieve their loss differently than the next.
I’ve shared before how difficult it’s been for me to attempt to guide my son through the loss of his friend at 7 years old to brain cancer, but honestly, in all my parenting years, this has been the challenge that keeps on giving. How do you do that exactly? Each year that passes, we process a little more and in different ways. Today marks the anniversary of the day Brock left us. This year, he stayed home from school and last year he was ready to be with other friends. Again, not linear. Today, he has spent the morning watching a sweet Christmas movie, he took a break from reality in some video games, went outside to shoot his pellet gun and we built a fort for the little girls in this house to enjoy this afternoon. He’s such a sweet boy. Kind, thoughtful and still missing his friend and struggling how to process the sad.
I typically try to follow my kids lead. I give them more grace than others think is necessary. It may appear that they rule the roost or call the shots, but like I tell them, I’m the one steering this ship. They may have more leniency with me than other moms allow for backtalk and general disrespect, but here’s what I know. There is no manual with parenting. Sure, I’ve read my share of parenting books from experts, but at the end of the day, no book, advice or even the child before them could ever adequately prepare me for parenting the child in front of me in that moment. What works for one of my children, doesn’t necessarily work for the next. So, I take all the advice in, absorb all the information I can and then take my kids’ lead on what they need from me.
I did read in a parenting book about divorce long ago that children will act out more with mom than anyone else because they know to the core of their being that unconditional love resides with their mom. They know without being told that no matter what they say or do, Mom will always love them. She is their safe space to release the emotions that are scary or don’t make sense. Have you heard it said that kids don’t say “I’ve had a rough day”, but instead they ask “will you play with me?” I don’t know how much I’ve actually believed this, but in the past two decades of parenting, I have done my best to remind myself of that in moments when they are having an outburst, even when it looks like I’m being soft or too lax to others watching me. It has given me the chance for an extra breath and take pause before reacting. The other day, I called my youngest daughter on it in a moment of exceptional sassiness. I asked her why she was so rude to me and not other people. She actually said, “because you’re my mom. I know you still love me.”
When it comes to helping my son navigate this grief process, that has meant that some days, I allow him to avoid his feelings altogether. Other times, I prod gently to encourage him to feel the sadness in tiny bits at a time. When we first told him about his friend going to heaven, his first words were “so, they didn’t find a cure?” It broke my heart - a child’s innocence and belief in the impossible shattered in an instant. When we pushed a little too hard to talk about it, he would come back with “It’s just too sad.” So, on the anniversaries and important days, I let him get lost in video games or stay home from school. I follow his lead. Even if this means he is taking advantage of the situation to avoid school that he hates. I’ll give him this pass because, you know what? His friend died and I can’t bring him back or take away his sadness no matter how many times I pray to God to let have his sadness instead. I can handle so much heartbreak and pain. I won’t break. I know I can survive it, but watching him hurt is worse than all the pain I’ve endured before now.
If you’ve navigated this territory and have any advice, please comment below. I’m sure I speak for others who are reading when I say, we are all ears. I may coach women how to grieve the loss of their divorce, but I feel out of my territory with this one, still, four years later.
How I handled Coparenting with Covid
Coparenting together from two different houses can be a challenge in and of itself, but what do you do when covid hits one house and not the other? Let me tell you a tale of our experience …
It all started on a Tuesday with a request from the littles’ dad who wanted to take my son hunting Wednesday morning before school. This is a whole thing in Texas during hunting season & my son equally loves hunting and hockey. Normally, I would have insisted that this father/son bonding wait until the weekend, but I decided to practice what I preach and pick my battles. Instead of putting my foot down out of principle, I told him instead: I will take your lead on this one. I really do think it’s important in this coparenting relationship for us both to allow the other parent room to call the shots from time to time. But I digress.
Fast forward to the next day when Dad starts running a fever and goes to get his previously scheduled covid test (he had a weekend trip planned and everyone agreed to testing prior to getting together). Covid Positive.
Well, damn. After we all saw him Tuesday evening and my son spent the morning in a deer stand with him. So now my son has been exposed, the question becomes does he stay there or come home and possibly expose us all, if we weren’t already?
Here’s what I have learned:
No one really knows about this virus - even doctors disagree
Positive test results only after fever started for the two adults
10 days - is the quarantine wait after symptoms begin and/or exposure
Symptoms vary from person to person - cough, fever, congestion, chills, aches, headache, etc.
3 days - how long you need to be fever free to be deemed not contagious
Our Thanksgiving break from school didn’t go as planned. My daughter stayed with me and neither of us ever got sick. We isolated to minimize the risk to other people and thankfully, we stayed healthy. My son quarantined at Dad’s house and did show very minor symptoms, but never ran a full blown fever. The adults were hit much harder and now we are awaiting retesting results.
I will venture to guess that our experience isn’t all that rare. Did you see my “I’m so sad” post awhile back? It was beyond difficult for me to be away from my son when he had the potential of being very sick. The fear of the unknown was in full swing for me. I am so grateful that he wasn’t. I have never spent more than a week away from my littles since my divorce, so 14 days seemed like an eternity.
I missed my son like crazy. My daughter was so sad to not see her brother and her dad for so long - especially when we live so close. My son was devastated to miss his hockey tournament and even missed being here with us when given the chance to play video games nonstop for days on end. Their dad missed his baby girl and her sweet hugs.
We managed to do a few things that helped ease the angst and separation a bit:
We did a driveway visit several times where my son would sit at his bedroom window and we’d talk to him on the phone. As his voice came through the car speakers (thank you bluetooth), it was almost like a drive-in movie. Who am I kidding? It was not at all the same thing.
We dropped off treats every couple days to the Covid House. Meds with Pedialyte and Gatorade one day, Lemon pie or his XBOX another day. Kindness always wins and, for me, it was easier to wait when I can do something to help and didn’t feel quite so helpless.
FaceTime is a godsend when you can’t be in person. It’s not quite the same, but it does help to be able to see each other’s faces. We spent most of Thanksgiving video chatting with everyone we couldn’t be with. It did help a tiny bit.
I learned to vary my questions and use them sparingly. It gets old to answer “How are you feeling?” every single day for two weeks. Offers to help are better received than asking over and over again for an update that takes days for the status to change. Patience is not my virtue, but it was much needed while we waited.
All in all, I’m very grateful it wasn’t worse and that there is light at the end of the tunnel. I am eager to get back to our “normal” life where we share kids who bounce back and forth between two houses - together. Who knew I’d ever say THAT?
Divulging My Biggest Mom Guilt
Just in case you think I have painted a pretty little picture of the perfect mom who is always zen … Let me be clear … perfect, I am not.
The one thing I still don’t get right way too often is that I yell at my kids. Like raise my voice with curse words when I’m frustrated, angry or upset. It could be their inability to follow directions the first, third or eighth time I’ve told them to do something … because children. It could be the fact that they move at the pace of molasses falling leisurely out of a bottle. It could be that I’ve procrastinated again and didn’t start dinner early enough. It could be that I’m wrestling with my own emotions about something that has nothing to do with them.
When I am stressed … l tend to raise my voice. I still wonder … can my neighbors can hear me?
Now, I have applied all that I teach and this does happen way less often than it used to, but that’s, in a large part, due to the fact that our lives look so different now. We have been home for six months and the closest we have come to running late is when we are in the next room and two minutes late for a zoom call. Pre-covid, I had cultivated a life where my kids took on more responsibility, we prepared more the night before and our mornings generally ran smoother. That all meant - less yelling.
However, last night, we fell into old patterns. Here’s the thing. We are all a work in progress and while I logically know what to do, I am human. Our muscle memory with emotions is strong! My triggers can be adjusted, but that shit takes time. And it takes practice.
Which brings me back to last night - MOM FAIL.
It was our first night of soccer practice. I was trying to pick up the house, finish some work and cook dinner at the same time. My beautiful sweet children - not so helpful. I was stressed, felt anxiety boiling up at the idea of being late to the very first soccer practice and I fell right back into old habits. Guess what? It felt terrible.
After rushing through dinner, hustling children into the car, mom yelling the whole time, I’m driving down the road and I can feel my heart beating faster, my hands gripping the steering wheel. I was STRESSED the F out.
Now, if you’ve been following my for awhile now, you’ve heard me say we can choose the way we want to feel. While that is true and it is really that simple, it is not easy. In the heat of the moment of those negative feeling emotions, it is not easy to shift the energy.
Here’s what I do know, though. I know what works ... for me. I only know this by trial and error and lots of practice! So, I turned on my Zen music from my meditation app. I turned up the volume and just drove. My kids were confused. I slowed my breathing. I reconnected with the sense of calm that I know from meditating or sitting in nature. The only reason I could do this was because I’ve practiced how I want to feel. Often and repeatedly.
After just a few minutes, I felt calmer. I turned off the music, tilted my rearview mirror down so I could see those sweet faces in the backseat and I said to them, “Your mama needs to chill out!”
Y’all. The look on my daughter’s face said it all. Her eyes got big, she lifted her eyebrows and looked out the window as if to say: Yeah, no kidding!
Then, I had the opportunity to use my failure as a teaching moment. I talked through why I was stressed out and admitted that I handled it poorly. Finally, I apologized.
Our kids don’t need perfect parents - thank God! They need us to lead by example and show them how to handle adversity. They need to feel safe and loved and secure. I can assure you that a yelling mom does not do that. But one that apologizes and explains that my anger is not their fault can help. Teaching them how to handle other people’s anger in a way that they don’t internalize that shit - what a life lesson.
So, I am still a work in progress, but I am getting closer each day to the kind of mom I want to be. How about you?
The best gift you can give your kids: Happier You
It’s that time of year when we are all searching for the perfect gift.
There are so many tidbits of wisdom I’ve gathered along the years, but if there is one thing I would love all moms to know it’s this. Your happiness matters. It’s not just important for your personal benefit, but it’s so crucial to the wellbeing of your children.
We hear it packaged all sorts of ways: make time for self care, take time for yourself, be sure to exercise and spend time doing what you love. Happy wife, happy life. Ain’t nobody happy if Mama ain’t happy. But why don’t we actually believe it?
I’ve talked about meditation and letting go in my eBook because it’s so instrumental in creating the happiest version of yourselves. When we take the time to put our happiness at the forefront of our day, it allows us to be the best mother to our children that we can be. We show up in the best ways.
Meditation allows us to quiet our mind and hit pause on the to do list. Meditation allows you to feel that overwhelming sense of wellbeing that is yours. Letting go of all the bullshit stories we’ve heard and believe about what it means to be a great mom takes some pressure off. Letting go of all the stupid obligations we put on ourselves that don’t actually matter free us up to have more time. Letting go of the pressure to do more, be perfect or somehow attain this miraculous balance of doing All The Things allows us room to be ourselves and have some fun along the way.
If I could pass along one piece of wisdom it is this. When you take time to make yourself a priority, you are actually doing this FOR your children.
Think about the times you were happiest. You laughed more with your kids. Their jokes are funnier and you recognize the silly things they do as cute and not annoying. You might dance your way through the Trail of Lights until they ask you to stop. Embarrassed preteens make me laugh. When you’re stressed and in a hurry, you can’t be bothered with the umpteenth story about Fortnite or My Little Pony.
Somehow, we all get it. That we need to take time to fill ourselves each day before we can tend to others, but why don’t we actually do it?
You know who i think does it really well? Jen Hatmaker. She is amazing and if you don’t already follow her, you should. She keeps it real and is honest about how hard motherhood can be, but she will often give you permission to suck at some things and let go of the ways you aren’t perfect in your own mind. She’s encouraging and hope-filled and she’s pretty stinkin funny, too! Give her a follow and thank me later.
Well, I can tell you from my own experience that when I have made time for myself, to feel good, happy and excited about my day, that it makes me more patient in the mornings. I look at my phone less and actually listen to their stories when we are together. I greet them with smiles and hugs instead of the hurried mom they used to get rushing to the next thing. Putting myself first and insisting that my own happiness matters has actually made me a better mom.
Don’t you think you owe it to your kids to do the same?
26 years ago today ...
26 years ago today, I gave birth to the tiniest baby girl and on that day, my life truly began. I didn’t know where we were going to live, if her father and I would get married or if I’d ever go to college, but I did know that now I had the motivation to do everything I had ever wanted to do. Now, I had another life depending on me to show up and make some magic happen. And that was one of the scariest moments of my life. When I looked down at this 4lb 13oz preemie sized baby girl, I was scared shitless. It was a “holy crap, I actually made a person” moment that I wish I could tell you was all rose colored sunbeams shining down all around us.
If you know me, you know that my motherhood journey started with a teen pregnancy. This may have made me a statistic on paper, but I never let it define me or determine what I was capable of. I almost took it as a personal challenge to prove everyone wrong. In all honesty, this is still me. Tell me I can’t and I’ll try harder. But at 17, I was months away from graduation, had chosen my college and dorm mate and there I stood drinking milk at prom. Everyone else was throwing back beer and shots, but there I was nursing my morning sickness that lasted ALL DAY LONG. Those last few months of my senior year are a blur. I showed up to school in sweats, without any makeup and my hair pulled back in the 90’s when appearance mattered and big hair was all the rage. I couldn’t eat. I struggled to drive myself to school and I was late most days.
I had no idea what I was doing. I had no examples of how to make this work out in my favor. I was also keeping my pregnancy a secret, so I hadn’t told my parents. I had nothing but the feeling in my gut to guide me. All I did know was this baby girl that I was now holding in my arms after so many hours of labor and after all those months of hardly eating, she had to have a purpose and she had to be here for a reason. I stepped up and took the responsibility for this tiny little life the best I knew how. I remember staring at her as we drove in the car together. I was overprotective and so awkward. It took me awhile to get comfortable talking to her. I distinctly remember saying to her, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say to you. Let’s listen to some music.” So, I would turn on the radio and sing to her. I always wondered where her singing talent came from because goodness knows I can’t hold a tune, but perhaps where my awkwardness left a gap, that music filled in the rest. I read books by La Leche League to learn how to breastfeed. I took every piece of advice from our parents with a grain of salt. They had experience, but I also trusted my gut and relied on the medical advice from our pediatrician to sometimes make different decisions.
Through the years, I also learned to take her lead. When she wanted to know why the sky was blue, I looked it up. When she refused to wear anything with lace, I made sure we only used the softer clothing that was handed down. Only now looking back can I tell you she likely had a sensory processing issue, but we didn’t know those sorts of things in the mid 90’s. Or I didn’t. I just continued to follow her lead. When she refused to wear pink, dresses, or bows, I quietly mourned the loss of having a little girl who loved pink as much as I do and put her in shorts and pants instead. She needed to learn to read BEFORE starting in private kindergarten? I figured out how to teach her to read. I had sex talks way too early. Overcompensating much? Perhaps.
When I tell you I can help you charter unknown territory, I come from a place of experience. I raised children as I was still growing up myself. Did I get it all right? Of course not! My girls and I absolutely grew up together, but I did not ever use being a young mom as an excuse to cop out. I may have been the youngest mom in the room at every classroom party, but I was there. I showed up when it was uncomfortable, I asked questions, and I figured that shit out. My poor first baby girl was my guinea pig. I tell her all the time that I didn’t know what I was doing. I still don’t as we charter young adulthood together. We’ve survived the college years and now we’re moving into wedding season.
I’m here to tell you that you can figure out your unknown too. Whatever it is for you, you don’t have to do it alone. My favorite approach to the unknown is “we need more information.” Don’t know how to do something? Look it up. Don’t know where to go? Ask someone for help. If I am lost or overwhelmed, I always try to seek more information before pressuring myself to know the answer. It takes a load off and buys me some time.
In all the ways I figured it out along the way, I’m also here to tell you that I’ve always, always taken my frustrations out on my hair. If I’m lost or confused or need help, I may seek more information, but my hair will always alert you. If you need proof, here you go … me with my newborn and a freshly permed bob.
