Anna Palma Shoots My Kids: I'm Thrilled

Last year my kids were invited to a photoshoot for Papier Mache Magazine's "dream issue". I posted the pics that made it into the magazine here, but I recently found never before seen photos from the shoot on Pinterest. They blew my mind. The photographer Anna Palma and stylists (shout out to my gal Kendra) were an amazing team. The results are incredible. I'm so glad we could be involved. Look at the pictures. Incredible. I'm beaming. The last one is my favorite.

Matching PJ's 2013

The uneven number of pictures in this collage pushed me way beyond my graphic design capabilities. It took me 29 days and 14 hrs to make it. Looking forward to next year and an even number of vertical pictures. Check out 2011 and 2012 when life wasn't throwing me so many design curve balls. Glad to overcome this difficultly in my life. Time to tackle my sock drawer.

Women in DC

Loved our first trip to DC, but the feminist in me kept getting annoyed at all the memorials dedicated to men. Lincoln, Washington, Martin Luther King Jr., Frances Scott Key, Jefferson. Think if we replaced every male memorial with a woman? I had to look up the stats of female vs male memorials to make sure I wasn't going crazy. I found out that across the nation, of the 5,193 public outdoor sculptures, less than 8 percent are of women. To go further, "none of the 44 national memorials managed by the National Park Service (such as the Lincoln Memorial) specifically focus on women and their accomplishments." (read here in the Washington Post). What kind of message is this sending?

The National Museum of American History really got me going. It had a wing devoted to the dresses the first ladies wore and the china they picked during their husband's administration. Glittery gowns and tea sets! Style icons! How every respectable gal should be remembered. I wanted to die when I saw it. But not as much I did when I found myself saying the following cringe worthy things:

While walking out of the DC train station:
Me (shouting): "Look! It's the White House! Wow." I tear up with excitement. No one bothers to correct me that I'm starring at Capital Hill.
Hours later, while walking past the actual white house.
Me: "Oh, so that's the White House. . ." Thanks guys.

While taking a walking tour of Georgetown, I asked what looked like a university professor on campus:
Me: "Know any good restaurants around here?"
Him: "Yeah, there's a pizza place right here." (points to a map)
Me: "Ok, looks like it's between 5th and PO-Taaa-MOC Ave?"
Him: Well, we pronounce it, Potomac."
Me laughing uncomfortably: I, uhh, didn't go to college here obviously.

While in the hot tub at our hotel:
Rob: Hey, maybe we should go to the mall tomorrow.
Me: Uhh, no. I don't want to go to the mall. (Disgusted he would even suggest it.)
Rob: It's not a shopping mall, the mall has museums and pathways in the center of DC.
Me: Ohhh, yeah. Let's go. (But first I slowly descend underwater in embarrassment.)

So while I know I won't be getting a monument dedicated to me anytime soon, here's to hoping there's a brave and intelligent woman out there with a giant national memorial in her near future. I mean, a giant, yet dainty, sparkly stylish memorial.

Above is the White House below is the Capital Building. I know I'm not the only idiot who thought these buildings were the same thing.

these horses were probably male too.