Father Daughter Dance "First Look" Pictures| Massachusetts Family Photographer

We started the tradition of Father/Daughter Dance "First Look" pictures last year, when I was amidst the chaos of shooting weddings constantly and realized that "first looks" can be adorable for more than just brides & grooms. Last year, the father/daughter "first look" was with just my sweet Delaney and it was so much fun! She still looks back on those images adoringly. This year was the first year that Claire went to the dance as well so it was extra special. 

Delaney, of course, picked out her dress and how she wanted to wear her hair so I cannot take credit for any of the cuteness, only the documentation of it all. 

My favorite part about photography is THIS. Capturing memories that my kids will cherish forever and ever and ever. The days are long but the years are short and I want to capture all of the really really great days so I can keep them forever for my babies. These are the moments that matter. This is it. 

Here is our Father/Daughter Dance First Look: 

My Minimalist Office: Massachusetts Lifestyle Photographer

I've recently realized that some of my biggest stressors in life are clutter, disorganization and darkness. So, when revamping my office space (which is, by the way, the only nook in the house that is ALL mine), the first thing I decided to do was to put on a fresh coat of white paint on the walls and have my husband install this antique window so I can see into the living room and spy on my kiddos while I'm working.

The walls went from a sage green to a bright white and the difference is mind blowing and so happy and clean and inviting-- or at least for me. What I truly wanted out of this space as a serene and minimalist office space that felt welcoming and inspiring and I knew the white paint would transform the room. Now, every time I step in, it feels like a beautiful blank space where I can create anything. We used this paint (Rust-Oleum 2774 Zinsser Interior EggShell, Perma White) because we already had it lying around and I am a firm believer that using what you have on hand first is best-- if possible.

I wanted to keep everything white to truly embrace that minimalist feel --where less is more and my mind feels free to wander and create. So, I went with this beautiful glass desk from Pottery Barn and a white leather chair (because my husband has a matching chair and he refused to get anything "too girly" or "not comfy" ). You can find the chair here: Bellezza Ergonomic Office PU Leather Chair Executive Computer Hydraulic, White. It's the best thing that ever happened to me.

One of my favorite products was the hanging shelf which I have seen done as a DIY project before. Buuuuut I am too lazy and my husband was already annoyed with me about putting in the window so you can find one here, if you love it as much as I do:  HomArt Crate Shelf, Suspended. For the record, I velcroed the corners of the shelf to the walls so my kids wouldn't think they could use it as a swing (haha).

Next up, all I had to do was hang some dried flowers and pictures (I love the square prints from Artifact Uprising) I already had lying around and add a little shelf to display some of my cameras (kind of obsessed with my fuji polaroid Fujifilm Instax Mini 8 Instant Film Camera (White). Again, simple is better. All white with a few pops is a minimalist's dream.

Lastly, I finished my minimalist office off with a pretty new mousepad (this one:Show Love to Your True Love, with Flowers Like Sleeping Princess Round Mouse Pad) and then my pretty little notebooks to stay on track of all my photography and mentoring sessions). And boom. A beautiful, serene nook in my home JUST FOR ME. Feels so so good.

What I Want to Tell My Daughter About Her Body.

I've written about my confidence issues before, but as my daughter grows up and becomes more and more wrapped up in her appearance, I cannot help but wonder if I am making the same mistakes that my parents did with me. 

As a child, I was often told that I was beautiful. I know, I know, you're probably sarcastically thinking, oh you poor thing. But honestly, looking back I think being told that I was beautiful more often than I was smart or strong or athletic created an overwhelming need in me to be perfect. 

With time, I began to rely on my beauty. I began to see it as the only thing I was bringing to the table. It overcame me. The need to standout in a crowd washed over me no matter where I was. I always wanted to be the prettiest girl in the room because I knew that I was never going to be the smartest or the strongest or the sassiest. In fact, I was a little plain, a tad boring and insanely self-conscious. My face burned crimson red with embarrassment more often than not and one of my very best friends nicknamed me "lobster." I now wonder if the reason I was always blushing was because I was terrified of what I looked like as I spoke to others. Did they think I was pretty? I hoped so. If not, what else was I? 

When I did not feel beautiful, I did not feel whole. When I felt too fat, I would not eat. When I forgot to put on makeup, I felt naked. And eventually it sent me into an obsession about my weight; because, I thought, who was I if I was not the pretty, skinny girl? 

I've told myself so many times that I would only stress my daughter's strength and smarts and never her external beauty. I wanted to dwell on her health rather than her eating habits; and I wanted more than anything to see her eyes light up at artwork or athletics rather than makeup and clothes. 

Yet, here I am, the mother of a 3 year old who sneaks into the bathroom to put on makeup and wears princess high heals around the house on a daily basis. She will throw tantrums until she gets to wear what she thinks are the pretty tights and she wants cupcake-flavored lip glass on before leaving the house. Yeah, she's 3.

Is it something that I have done or is it just naturally embedded into who she is destined to be? I think it's a little bit of both. I believe Delaney was born to be a girly-girl. She loves tutus, sparkles and blush and would rather spend the afternoon pretending to be Lady Gaga than playing baseball; it's who she is. And I love her for that.

But I believe that I am partly giving in to how society is molding our daughters. The truth is, our society values women more for than beauty and the size of their breasts than they do for the intellect or character. And here I am going along with the crowd, as I take her picture after she puts on play makeup instead of after she scores a goal in soccer, or when I say, "Delaney, you are so beautiful" after she puts on her tutu and does the most lovely ballerina twirl. 

Not to mention, Delaney has heard me pick myself apart. She has seen me stare in the mirror as I glide my hand over the curves of my stomach with disgust. She has heard me complain about needing to lose weight, having nothing to wear and looking aged. Too many times I have put my own looks down while she stands in the next room listening. She is receiving all these messages and molding them into how she views herself. 

It is unacceptable.

My daughter needs to be told that her body is not an ornament, but rather an instrument. Her body should not be the scale of which her worth is weighed. She does not need to strive for perfection in boob-jobs and botox. I would never want her to feel the pressure of having to be the prettiest or skinniest girl in the room; because at some point, looks fade and what is left is wisdom. I want her to be wise. I want her to strive to be the smartest, the most well-read, and the most traveled. I want her to use her body to run marathons, play sports, explore the world, and seek creative outlets. 

I want her to expect more of herself than I ever did. I want her to know that her insides are so much more valuable than her outsides.

So, it is okay if my daughter pursues her love of Ballet; but I want her passion to lie in the art form rather than the buns and tutus. And when she gets off the stage after her first performance, I am going to say, "Delaney, you are so talented."

The Moment My Son Was Diagnosed with Autism.

It was a cold December morning. The world felt raw and unattached as I swung my feet out from my comforter and onto the chipped hardwood floors. 6:00 am and we had to be into the city by 8. The thought of trekking through the traffic and breaking my son's extremely strict, never-goes-a-day-without-sitting-in-the-same-spot-on-the-couch, morning routine was enough to weigh down my shoulders. In my happiest voice, I said "good morning baby," in a long dragged out tone as I lifted his covers and peered at his trembling bones.  Every morning, when the covers are lifted and the night's warmth is pierced with morning air, his skin trembles and turns a shade of my blue that most people would never notice. But I notice. I always notice. 

I trace his cheek with the outsides of my fingers, giving him a few more moments to acknowledge the day. This was my way --always my way-- of giving him time to adjust and convince him that today will be good -- that he should be prepared to smile. Isn't it funny how we create these routines, and these expectations without ever knowing we are doing so. Without ever seeing the why....

The morning routine continues -- following the strict schedule that Luke has created and I have enabled until finally, we are loaded into our white mini van with the heat turned higher than necessary until suddenly I realize my cheeks are burning. Slowly, our van is swarmed by cars and taxi cabs, and the sound of honking horns and vibrating sterios reminds me of where we are headed. I glance out my window at men beneath houses made of boxes and blankets, and holding signs asking for food, and I think to myself..."well...it could be worse."

I glance over at my husband who has maintained the same straight face he always has when faced with potentially life-altering moments such as these. When I try to chat about what could come of the day, he greets my words with "I don't knows." 

Maybe someone will finally know. After all, isn't that why we are here? Heading into the city-- the renowned Boston Children's-- so we can finally talk to someone who knows. Will anyone know?

5 hours of testing later,  broken up only by one snack and one walk in the hallway, we were told to come back tomorrow to hear our fate. As if they didn't already know.

On the way out, as the cold air pierced my skin, I thought about how well my son behaved. How good he did. And how there is no way, after having such a great day with no tantrums, that anyone would ever see what I thought --maybe-- I saw.  I was almost...disappointed. I didn't want to leave another appointment with them not seeing the truth about my day to day life with my boy. Would these struggles always be our little secret? Would they never have a label? Would we continue through this life, always walking on eggshells and preparing for the next tantrum? Would we always be at party --in a corner-- as he whispers in my ear how scared he is, all the while everyone telling me how well behaved he is.  Gosh, if they only knew. 

As we rounded the bend on our walk back to the car and the air hit me from a new direction, my mind went still The truth is coming, I thought. I pulled up my hood, grateful to be anonymous and that no one could hear the silence inside my head.

As the next day came (as they often do), we sat in the office, sipping our almost-cold coffees when she finally said it aloud "Luke has Autism."

She went on to tell us his strengths and weaknesses and his other diagnosis of Developmental Coordination Disorder. She went on to tell us how sweet he is. And how he is extraordinarily social for a child on the spectrum. She went on to reassure us that we will have all the services and support we will ever need. She went on to tell us everything we already knew about our baby. She went on. And on. And on. And on. And on.

Silence. Everything, silenced. There was not a single movement in the room except for my murky, trembling hands, and the shift of the doctor's leg as she uncomfortably waited for us to speak. There was no way to spit-shine this moment. Or to smack a bandaid over this cut and call it healed. This was not a death sentence nor was it an invitation to some renowned club. It was just--- the truth. The bare-boned, matter-of-fact, truth. Suddenly one of my hands clamped the other and my trembling ceased. My entire body went silent. Then..out of no where, my mouth spoke the words, "thank you."

...for finally saying what I've always known.

6 Tips on Becoming a More Mindful Mother: 10% Happier.

You do not have to have read Dan Harris' book, 10% Happier to get something out of this post but I do very much recommend you doing so-- especially if you suffer from anxiety and are desperately searching for something to hold on to, believe in or to ground you.

Before you start thinking I'm a little too granola and into self-helpery, try to understand that, as mothers and women, we all feel as if we are drowning -- even if just a little bit. We are all looking up trying to find a crack in the ice where we can burst through to gasp for air. I know I am. Constantly. All day long. Gasping.

Since reading 10% Happier, I've developed some new routines in my life, created a plethora of new goals, and have decided WHO I WANT TO BE. And to top it off, I have also decided that there is no longer any room for self-doubt and I am becoming more mindful of each and every moment.

Get on the train momma, its a pretty rad ride.

Below are a few tips I have written on becoming a more mindful woman and momma. Mindfulness to me is intending to be more present in the moment--- more aware, more at ease, and more grateful. It is about finding your flow, and breathing a little deeper. If you are over-taken by this fast paced, multi-tasking, can't-stop-for-a-single second society that we are living in, then please consider some of these tips and picking up this book.

And remember, we are setting examples for our children. If we show them that we are always "there" but never "present," and continue to dish out empty, "yes'" and "no's" but then have no idea what we even said "yes" or "no" to, then our kids will eventually catch on and start copying our behaviors-- allowing the go-go-go lifestyle to over-take them as well. I don't know about you, but I want my kids to be present in their lives --appreciating all the beauty, finding gratitude daily, and being mindful of it all. So, let's start with us. I admit, these tips are not going to change your life. But in motherhood and womanhood, it may allow you to atleast be 10% happier and thats something-- isn't it?

Here are 6 tips on Becoming a More Mindful Motherhood:

1. Stop dividing your attention. One of the biggest stressors for us, as mothers,  is multi-tasking. There is so much that we are trying to do at one time that we end up slicing ourselves up into tiny little slivers and dividing us up equally. We can literally hold a conversation with all of our children while simultaneously writing an email or making a phone call. Sure, we manage to somehow do it, but when we are finished, we literally have no recollection of what the heck we just said or wrote. Our brains are constantly ticking and yet we are missing everything because we do not take the time to be mindful of what we are doing and how we are using our time. It's time to start slowing down, mommas. It is time to stop slicing up our attention up into pieces and start doing more with intention.
2. Be Grateful. It is one thing to say you are grateful and another thing to acknowledge specifically WHY you are grateful and WHAT you are grateful for. Every night before bed, review your day-- you can choose to write down what you are grateful for or just mentally note it. Either way, take the time to consider all the good in your life. It may be as simple as your grande gingerbread latte and that is just fine. But whatever it is,  be more mindful of the little bits of beauty that present themselves to you daily. The more you start being grateful to the universe for all the good in the world, the more good you will begin to see. It's like digging deeper into source energy and karma. See the good, and be grateful and mindful of the good. Then, send out those good vibes and be mindful and ready to receive them right back.
3. Stop treating the present moment as if it were an obstacle. Why do we all feel like the present moment is just something we have to get THROUGH? Why can't we ever just be IN it? The present is not something to overcome in order to get to the next moment. We think to ourselves, "if I could just finish this laundry then I can finally relax." Or, "it'll be so much easier when she turns three and we are out of the terrible twos." We just keep looking forward and pushing through the present as if there is something better ahead of us. Let me tell you girlfriend, THIS IS IT. This is life. Don't live it thinking that THIS moment isn't good enough and the next will be better. It's a horrible cycle where you will always end up wishing for something that you already have right in front of you.
4. Meditate. Set aside time in the morning, before you start stressing over your to-do list or start packing lunches to meditate and be mindful. If you have never tried it, please please do me a favor and do so (I recommend starting with the app Headspace). Take a few minutes every morning to focus on breathing, check in with yourself, and find peace and calming in what the day will bring you. I can promise you this: you will never regret giving yourself 10 minutes to just sit cross legged with a candle burning. There is nothing more serene than having the only sound in your home be that of your breath and the light flickering of the flame to your lavender scented candle. That is bliss, man.
5. Breath before reacting. It is so easy to get so frustrated by the noise, the whining and the arguing bellowing from the mouths of your children constantly. I have even turned around from the driver seat in the car with a fuming red face,  my eye brows pierced upward and my mouth practically foaming and shouted, "just shut up!!!" at the top of my lungs.  Okay, okay, there might have been an eff bomb dropped in there too. Yikes. But the point is, what good did that do?  If anything it made everything worse because the baby started crying hysterically and I fantasized about opening the door and rolling out of my white mini van while it was still moving. Imagine that? I can just picture driving down the road and seeing a mother, all loopy-eyed, rolling out of her moving mini van and running for the hills. Classic. I digress. The point is, sometimes just repeating a mantra to yourself or taking ten deep breaths is enough for you to find your reasoning.  Become mindful in the moment and acknowledge your frustration. Sometimes that's all your frustration wants is for you to say, "yes I KNOW. I am FRUSTRATED." Or try using the mantra, "this too shall pass," as a way to acknowledge that your frustration is only temporary and does not have the power to control you. Acknowledging your mood is sometimes enough to recenter yourself and be able to laugh at the beautiful chaos that is unfolding.
6. Find your flow. Flow is a term used to describe being so engaged in an activity that your awareness of time and your surroundings disappear. Artists often say that when they are creating art, they lose themselves in the moment (I do this often while writing or taking pictures). Find something that you love wholeheartedly and allows you to find your flow so deeply that you are consumed in that moment and in complete disregard for everything else. Be mindful of the power is has over you and enjoy it. This is also important for self care. If you take care of yourself and allow time for you to find your own flow, you will then have more to give to your children later.