Tom Orr in Modern Luxury

Tom Orr in Modern Luxury, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

Running across my stuff in print makes me happy.

I'm not a Costco kind of girl

I can't stand "stocking up." I am not a Costco kind of girl. Seeing two of the same thing on a shelf outside of the marketplace gives me an uncontrollable tick somewhere on the right side of my neck. They may not be entirely aware but that extra two cents I'm spending ironically on the lack of product in my house buys my family a sense of peace on the side with the estrogen. (Namely me. Even the dogs have a penis.)

I should stock up on paper products since this household collectively freaks out when there is a paper towel or tissue shortage. Which makes me feel guilty since, let's face it, recycled paper towels cost three times as much and aren't nearly as absorbent as the hollow sound of a freshly slain rain forest.

But then I'd miss that weekly reminder of how thoughtful the Papa Bear is when he picks up my shopping slack.

All this to say, my dad came to visit for the holiday and generously picked up some extra shampoo for me and I'm feeling a lot better that I just used up the last of the other bottle.

James Chippendale for Modern Luxury Magazine

I had the pleasure of shooting James Chippendale recently. He's an amazing guy with a beautiful story. Check out the photos and article in the upcoming Modern Luxury.

She cross-posts because it's just good stuff

My HLP (Heterosexual Life Partner) is one of the most interesting people I know. I'm a lucky lady. :)

Click here for story and free music.

We have a house!

Front of house, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

I stole photos from the real estate page.

It's 1,941 square feet, 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a study, skylights, recessed lighting and fenced back yard with a deck. I am STOKED.

If you really love me you'll sell me your washer and dryer on the cheap.

The Power of Cute

Do you even know how hard it is to say no to this face?!

I had lunch with him at school today. The company of many four year olds is far more intellectually stimulating than you would think. And it seems everyone has an I-jumped-on-the-bed-and-hurted-my-head story. I kind of want him home with me all the time. :(

These photos brought to you by Penn's Good Hair Day.

Hopes Dashed

Serious face, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

As the life plan unfurls things are getting taken care of across the board. I was delighted to be introduced to the idea of Pre-K in a good public school saving me the costly tuition of private school.

I was also delighted to find a beautiful house (way better than I ever imagined) in the coveted Lakewood Elementary school district of Dallas.

But my bubble was busted today when I found out that there are some qualifications that have to be met for all Pre-K enrollment in the Dallas ISD.

To be enrolled in a prekindergarten program, a child must be at least 4 years of age on or before Sept. 1 of the current school year and meet one of the following criteria:

* be unable to speak and comprehend English
* come from a family whose income, according to the standards set by the State Board of Education, is at or below the subsistence level established by the state of Texas and according to federal guidelines
* be eligible for services for the homeless

The school didn't mention this when I talked to them last year. I am sorely disappointed as a good pre school public education was going to seriously help me put a dent in my debt.

How is it possible for lower and middle class parents to work and raise a child? And by raise a child, I mean actually see your spawn on a meaningful regular basis.

I am at a loss here, as to how to get ahead independently.

I gave in to the idea of a faith based school. Even more costly, but they provide financial assistance and scholorships. Too bad the deadline for those applications has already passed.

Suggestions welcome.

Engagement Portrait

Engagement Portrait, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

A sneak peak for the lovely couple. SO excited to shoot their wedding!

If you hate phonebooks as much as I do....

I have a bag of phone books on my front and back door. I signed up for this a long time ago.

The only thing I have ever used the phone book for is to sit on at the dinner table when I was little.

Let's just admit that it's 2008 and move on with our lives, mmkay?

Spongebob

Spongebob, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

by Penn, 4 years old.

Random thoughts over breakfast

I spaced out at the precise moment a turn was required and found myself on Highway West instead of Highway East. A fifteen minute jaunt home turned into a one hour road trip. It's a good thing my boss is so nice.

Self-employment is a dandy idea during times like these.

The driving debacle gave me a little time to think. To admire the growing number of people swarming downtown sidewalks with waddling children falling off the end of their arm. To count the number of slightly overweight, pre-pubescent girls, sweating and uncomfortable in their shuffle to keep up with the crowd. On the way home a homeless man and his giant shopping cart walked out in front of me and when my bumper almost hit him he smiled. A public transportation safety truck ran a light and then cut someone off. An old woman walked down the sidewalk with a noteworthy outfit: floral-printed, purple, pleated rayon shorts, a black "Cats" t-shirt (the one with the eyes on the back) tucked in tightly, men's white tube socks pulled up to her knees, white Keds, and thin gray hair that was failing to be a bun.

And I wondered how many steps away we all were from that.

Then I passed two young men walking down the road. They were identical. Identical black slacks, identical white, buttoned up shirts, identical thin black ties, identical something square over the pocket, identical sunglasses and identical magazines rolled up and carried in the right hand. I couldn't imagine where they could possibly be going. If there had been more than a dog in the car with me I would have said out loud, "There must be a glitch in the Matrix." It's my standard comedic line for spotting oddities. It's not really funny any more. I should get a new line. I'll have to start watching more movies.

And I wondered if any of these people were happy. I pondered how my day would go over a bowl of Pops cereal because I ate all the healthy cereal yesterday. And then I mapped out in my head everyone's path to success. Everyone's path except my own and I'm not quite sure if that means I am undecided or satisfied, but I'm leaning towards the latter.

happy

happy, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

Sr. Portraits

And all my peers are thinking, "Ummm, we totally weren't looking anything remotely close to this in our senior portraits."

Thinking back, I'm sure my hair was permed and my bangs were puffed accordingly. Thinking back I wore a sleeveless white buttoned up shirt tucked in and perfectly bloused out over my light-washed, high-waisted, rolled-at-the-cuff jean shorts. Thinking back I had too-heavy eye liner and a touch of acne and although I weighed the exact same amount I do now, that whopping 90 pounds was unbelievably, erm, "rounder" with ill distribution. It was a phase. Thank god.

All this glory was amplified by the tacky patterned background illuminated with the classic centered background light that hopes to create the high school halo effect for the angels we all strived to be. In public. There was the gleaming and oversized white number "97" that I leaned over with my head cocked and my chin up, just like that sweaty-pitted, greasy-faced photographer told me to. All the better to fit me into his awesome cookie-cutter wallet-sized photos. Gold lettering at the bottom, of course.

It is my solemn oath to never do that to anyone I like ever and seek therapy for the damage those very photos have done to my mental image. Their damage is currently propped up proudly in a dusty black "portfolio" on my grandmothers television.

These run-on sentences fueled by the trauma of the Class of 97. We wuz there.

Cross your fingers

Every time I leave the house I take the time to wander through a neighborhood. Eyes peeled for red signs and white lettering and info tubes. There's not many. Gas is expensive. Time is running out. There is a pimple rising on my right cheek and it's screaming, "Little Forest Hills Landlord plllleeeeasssee run our application and let us into that house that's dripping with cuteness and affordability!"


View Larger Map

Life is bombarding my family with opportunity right now and I am proud and grateful. All we need is a house to store all that gratitude plus two medium sized dogs.

Work

It's not all fun and games, kids and songs around here. Sometimes I have to work, too.

For the children

Perla Is Mean from Daniel Miller on Vimeo.

"Penn is 4 years old. A girl at his school, Perla, makes fun of him. Written and recorded on the iSight in about 5 minutes."

The Peanut Butter Song from Daniel Miller on Vimeo.

"This one was a little bit longer in the writing, but shorter in the making (the TAG made me record it, again just on the iSight {in case that wasn't obvious}, while she sleeps on the couch).

The "Peanut Butter Game" is a nightly ritual in our house, where we see what gross things we can pair with peanut butter. The lists are endless, the song only touches on a couple in the second verse (anyone who knows about my band-aid phobia knows how hard it was for me to sing that line)! The song came about at the genesis of the game, and primarily consisted of the last verse, as we tried to get the kid to go to sleep."#

I did. I totally fell asleep on the couch with my dog while he recorded this and found myself being gently lifted and tucked into bed. BUT I LOVE THEM! AND I LOVE BEDTIME! AND PERLA BETTER WATCH OUT 'CAUSE MY KID CAN PRETEND TO BE BATMAN ANY TIME HE DARN WELL PLEASES.

Penn napping, GQ Style.

Update.

Click here for more.

Papa Bear FTW!

When you've done it all by yourself from start to finish for four years, sharing responsibility and love suddenly feels odd. I've never experienced it so I don't know how it's supposed to work. I'm keeping a mental tally, but we all know I'll never be able to keep up.

Because Papa Bear is the best bed-timer, player, tooth brusher, butt changer, manner teacher, grammar teacher, coffee maker, dish doer, driver, provider, supporter and overall fun and thoughtful person for all living creatures in the house. And he exhibits this super power, literally on an hourly basis, so as nauseous as I'm making you right now, I'm holding back.

Holding back from telling you about making me a happy mixed cd, romantic evenings of wine at Times Ten Cellar, picking up my son and putting him to bed because I have some unidentified immobilizing pain, cleaning up dog messes and trash can spills without complaint and talking about a present for Penn. And.....etc.

As human beings we are sometimes plagued with doubts about our journey through life. Love, career, money, house, friends......all the things you'd quiz your local psychic lady about.

I haven't a single doubt about anything that matters. I am overwhelmed with goodness.

Click here for more.

Mothers Day at Cirque Chinois

On Mother's Day I totally forgot to call my mom and my grandmother. Shame on me.

But we did go to Cirque Chinois for their Mother's Day show, grabbed some bubble tea on the way back to Dallas and then continued our house hunt.

My photos made their way onto a big truck with my name at the bottom which was a pretty awesome surprise. I also did all the photos for the bubble tea shop and the real estate agent, Susan, has portraits of her family framed around her house that I took. And all that in one day felt rather nice and slightly odd.

It was a good day. I wallowed in the ideas and rewards of being a mom, even though Penn spent most of the day clinging to Papa Bear (for example) and shunning his flesh and blood, as is becoming the norm. But I like that part a lot. The part where my son has equal, positive, protective and loving influences from both genders. And the part where Papa Bear whispers in his ear that it's Mother's Day and he should tell me he loves me and then he does.

I'd say the only downside to the whole day was a run-in with a fool and since this post is all about happy, I'm gonna share that story later.

Click here to see the Cirque Chinois set.

Email Overload

It's hard to prioritize when everything should be #1.

Alas...life is good.

Climbing fence

Climbing fence, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

Today we learned about consequences via a demonstration with the remote control.

"What happens if we throw this up in the air?"
"It falls down."
"Right. We know if I throw something up it will fall down. That's the consequence. And we know if you throw a fit in a store you will get in trouble and not get any treats. That's the consequence of throwing fits."

Click here to see more.

In the meantime.....

I think we might have found a house today. Big and clean and potentially lovely enough for a rental property. In the meantime, this is where I live now. Click here for more.

Dear Landlords: What are you thinking?

We're looking for a house that will contain our office and a yard that will contain our dogs. It's come to my attention that many of you landlords need some advice.

1. Blue carpet is evil and should be against the law. If you have blue carpet you should be fined a hefty amount for offending certain non-negotiable sensibilities. It is bad. It is written in stone that it is bad. I don't care what color blue it is. It's bad. Baby blue carpet is the most evil of all blue carpets.
   
   
2. Dogs stink. Dogs need baths. The only thing worse than evil baby blue carpet is evil baby blue carpet that smells like Dog. Seriously....that's gross. I know you took a deposit for that smelly animal. Now is the time to use it. One word: hardwoods.
   
   
3. Wallpaper can be awesome! But most of you are putting up horrible stripes and flowers and if that's not bad enough you're letting it peel down the wall. Please stop with the bad wallpaper.
   
   
4. WALLPAPER BORDERS! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! STOP.
   
   
5. Textured walls are gross. Don't "hide blemishes" on your walls with texture. Just fix the damned blemish.
   
   
6. Faux painting makes me vomit in my mouth a little bit. It doesn't look "cool." It looks "dirty."
   
   
7. Just because you can hammer a nail into wood does not mean you are a carpenter. Stop building tacky banisters. And stop painting them blue to match your evil carpet.
   
   
8. If you can see more wood than you can see paint then it's time to repaint. Seriously.....it's just paint. If there are more paint chips on the ground below your house than mulch, you need to repaint.
   
   
9. When you repaint, please invest in some painting tape. You are not Pollock.
   
   
10. See also: Mulch. Buy it. Use it. Right after you mow the lawn and weed.
    
    
11. Cabinet doors are made for closing! Surprise!
    
    
12. I don't know what that green plastic whatevers is supposed to be used for, but let's just stop using it for patio roofs, shall we? And, okay, whatever, you've spent all your money on paint and wallpaper removal and flooring, well, then let's at least keep it nailed down. 'Cause I had a little chat with Gravity and he told me that he's gonna pull on everything that's not actually attached.
    
    
13. That particular color of green is a beautiful color made for the forest. For the love of god, let's keep it the hell out of our tile and off our walls. If it is trying to resemble marble it is failing. Should you decide to pair it with mauve or flowers or paneling I'm going to seriously doubt your ability to make a decision.
    
    
14. JUST SAY NO TO PANELING!

I'm not talking extravagance or huge decor, I'm just saying let's keep the houses clean and together. I'm tired of trying so hard to like atrocities in good locations just because I need a house and quick.

Penn's Chore List

Penn's Chores, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

For Mothers Day Penn gave me a colored bouquet of flowers and singed a "contract" he wrote that he would clean his room and do all his chores. Which made me think, "What are your chores?"

He used to feed the dog and let him outside. But we've really slacked on his responsibilities lately. So, posted now are Penn's chores for which he receives a quarter for:

1. Make his bed.

2. Put his dishes in the sink.

3. Speak nicely. (It is my motherly obligation to tell you he is really a very nice boy. And he is. A hard thing to teach is tone of voice. The things he says are fine. But the tone of voice he is capable of using makes it feel like a completely different sentence.)

4. Try to poop on the potty. (Yes. We're still not trained in this area. Sigh. Please oh please let this come soon.)

someecards.com

someecards.com, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

Switch

I'm thinking of switching my proofs to a new site.

Feedback?

Acrobats for Mother's Day

Sunday May 11th For One Day Only!

At the Plano Centre 2000 Springcreek Pkwy & Jupiter

Mother's Day VIP Brunch 11:00 and 12:00
Limited Seating available for the Brunch

Show Times 1:30 and 7:30

214.331.3333

Tickets now on sale.

Mention this blog and the code TC50 for half off tickets at the evening show!

We'll be there celebrating Mother's Day, enjoying an awesome show and helping the acrobats. Buy your mom a ticket today!!!

This show is probably not possible without the very talented Richard McClure of Avsday Productions. Getting married? He's the only one you want to use. Promise.

I littered a metaphor on someone's blog and thought I'd share.

I often think of living as putting a puzzle together and we all have to find the pieces from a giant pile. We instinctively want all those corner pieces. And we dig and dig, and metaphorically fight over pieces that might fit our puzzle and buy lots of different shoveling tools and hire lots of different people because we Need those Corner Pieces to do it "right" because that's how our grandmother taught us to do it on Sunday afternoons sitting on the shag carpet floor around the oak veneer coffee table. And we want to feel that cheer from the matriarch when we find the corner piece so we Hurry and we Hurry. We are Frantic. The afternoon is passing and She is Waiting.

All to find out in the end the shape of our puzzle has no corners.

Perhaps we should just put the pieces together as they fit.

My mom has skillz

My mom and I have often debated the powers of Nature vs. Nurture thanks to our boggling similarities, mannerisms, habits and tastes in all things in existence and the amount of time we were apart. (I lived with my dad. Different timezone.)

Creatively we often appreciate the same mediums. We will never argue over a color palette and we will always share the same excitement over a well designed set of dishes or particularly good roast of coffee.

So her art excites me alot. Her intuitive tap into typography is really compelling and the prints and cards look really good. I think I may have to order some myself.

Click here to buy.

A discussion about skincare products on this blog is completely unheard of.

I've taken a lot of photos for the amazing Renee Rouleau, but I've never actually tried her products. I've asked her lots of questions, just because it's good to know what I'm working with and the philosophy and science behind it. And I really believe in the science and philosophy behind her products. I remember her saying something along the lines of Natural products aren't always enough and Chemical products are sometimes too much. Her line is the best of Nature and Science. "Results Oriented." We like that.

But my skin is just, well, my skin. Hardly exceptional and very oily. I have accepted this and moved on with my life because there is no product or routine I could ever possibly afford that would make any difference.

Au Contraire!

I'm using products from Skin Type #2 and after two days my face is 100% less oily. After two days the spots that felt a little dry and a little flaky are just completely gone.

You don't believe me, right? The only thing not to believe here is that there are not any artificial fragrances because they smell that good.

If you know me at all, you know that a discussion about skincare products is completely unheard of, which is why this particular endorsement is a big deal. (While I'm at it, I'd like to crap on Cetaphil's Daily Facial Moisturizer. Nasty.)

I am positively certain Renee's skincare line is amazing and works and I'm kicking myself just a little bit for having not tried them years ago. And I'm happy that the line will carry me through mid-life oily to old-and-wrinkled.

(Back to work now so I can get this one darned photo of hers to upload correctly. Heh. Always something.)

Life in Deep Ellum

Life in Deep Ellum, originally uploaded by carissabyers.

I Hit the Jackpot on Family Life and How My Evenings Usually Go

After I pick up Penn from school, on non-event nights, we begin the happiest ritual that usually resembles the following bulleted list:

• Grocery, errands, confirm with Mr. Daniel about dinner menu and time.
  
  
• Come home, negotiate nutritional value of a snack to tide the baby over.
  
  
• Unpack groceries while yelling from the kitchen that I am so sorry I did not get the "flat" pickles because I don't like the flat pickles and yes I will totally cut the pickle so that it's flat, later, but as annoying as spear shapes are in Toddler Land, that is just the way it is going to be right now.
  
  
• Chase dog and it's hair with the vacumme while contemplating what he'd look like if I just shaved him.
  
  
• Pick up the assorted things that wandered from their places during the day while the baby replaces the clean with more things.
  
  
• Hurridly put them away onto shelves and into baskets that I have every intention of organizing. Again.
  
  
• Prioritize the laundry. Stinky stuff first due to that one wet wash cloth I put in the hamper that soured and fantisize about what it would be like to have a washer and dryer actually inside my house.
  
  
• Put dinner on and kiss the man walking in with smiles and some sort of bag filled with some sort of treat. (Wine, watermellon, V8, etc.)
  
  
• Sit down for dinner and attempt to have an adult conversation about moving or art or work and a conversation about Superman, facial expressions, school, farting, moving and one-more-bite at the same time.
  
  
• Spontaneous Musical at the Dinner Table time.
  
  
• Collective food coma.
  
  
• Baby and Papa Bear curl up into some sort of recreational activity involving sound effects. (See above photos.)
  
  
• I mention bedtime.
  
  
• Papa Bear mentions bathtime.
  
  
• Run bathwater, do dishes while Bubble Mountain is growing upstairs.
  
  
• Plop baby in, dump soap on him and fold clothes while he pretends I am the spoon on his broken plastic sword which is now a boat floating through Bubble Mountain.
  
  
• Papa Bear goes up and plays the "Ghost Game," and Hot Potato and Pretend 10 times longer even than the the guy who won Greatest Dad Ever award.
  
  
• Mom interrupts for Story Time.
  
  
• Story Time is interrupted by Peanut Butter time. Guitars are broken out again:
  
  Peanut butter it's bedtime
  Peanut butter good night
  Peanut butter I love you
  Peanut butter sleep tight
  
  
• OMG IT IS 11:30 AND WE'RE STILL UP PLAYING! (Worth it.)
  
  
• Dishes done. Retire to computers to tie up loose ends from work.
  
  
• I start upload and fall asleep on couch with book and "Family Guy."
  
  
• Sometime a.m. I am carried upstairs and tucked into bed.
  

OMG MY LIFE IS PERFECT. WE ARE LIKE THE ROMANTIC COMEDY SUMMER MOVIE THAT NEVER ENDS.

See my flickr for funny titles.

Tom Orr

I had the extreme pleasure of shooting sculptor Tom Orr this morning. Both he and his wife's work blow me away, more than a little bit. Look for more in an upcoming Modern Luxury.