Awkward Family Photos

When we were growing up, my Mom had one camera. Like one camera for my entire childhood years. I think it cost something like $35. It was a "super fancy" 35mm camera. Some of you thirty-somethings remember those. The flash was nearly blinding. And it had like some sort of crank that you cranked after you took each photo. And it was copied to film that had to be dropped off at Walgreens or Walmart to be developed. These are all words and concepts that make it sound like I'm from 1910!

And back then, we didn't know that we weren't supposed to look disheveled, unkept, off-guard and awkward in every picture. We had not yet figured out what the cool, young hipsters have now mastered..."the easy pose." The "best side of your face" pose. The "stick this leg out slightly to look thinner" pose. The "put your hand on your hip, but turn your arm ever-so-slightly forward so you look gaunt" pose. 

Nope. Back in my day the pose was "Look at the camera and say 'CHEEEEESE'" and cheese is what we got. 

But my beautiful sister, Jenni, and I try REALLY hard to be photogenic now (since most photos of us from age 7 thru 18 show ragamuffin clothes, bad hair, bad teeth, bad skin (and bad Sally Jessie Raphael red-rimmed glasses for Jenni). 

NOW, we do the Kardashian pose - you know, suck in, put on spanx, tilt the head to make the nose smaller, the cheek bones higher and the lips thicker & poutier. 
The go-to smile begins with slanted, smoldering eyes that seem to twinkle or flirt;  your lips are softly closed accompanied by a side-smile (as though you're smirking to your self about the inside joke that all these other fools aren't in on). Option #2 is the teeth smile - this is when you smile wide enough to show teeth. This smile is tricky because it must not be wide enough to show your 33 yr old jowls. You know jowls, it's when your cheeks fall and land somewhere around your chin line. So when you smile and you have jowls, it makes you look like you're carrying extra weight. Jowls suck!

If you're totally lost right now, that's okay, probably a great sign that you have not experienced "vanity run amuck". 

But we do live in "vanity run amuck!" And we do try to take the gorgeous "No, I'm not posing, I always effortlessly look like a movie star standing in weird, uncomfortable shoes, and spanx so tight that the only way I'm going to the bathroom tonight is if I have a pair of scissors in my hand so I can cut my way out of these suckers!"

Yep, we're the new posers. Sometimes we get it right.

And other times, the outcome is just.....AWKWARD.

Enjoy the AWKWARD (and a few of the pretty) at our expense. 

Beautiful Sister Pic

AWKWARD. 

What is she digging for?!?!

AWKWARD.

Some sort of dancing/mating call, I guess. 

AWKWARD.
Sunset behind us picture just looks creepy! WE make it look creepy!

 AWKWARD.
Jenni & Brenna cracking up. So sweet. So awkward! Love it 

AWKARD.
I'm too awkward for this picture!

AWKARD.
Posing like Minnie Mouse. Totally normal for a 30 yr old!

AWKARD.
I think Jessica is having a stroke & Jenn is praying for her. 

BEAUTIFUL.
Sisters all fancied up for Jenni's wedding. 

AWKWARD.
Creeper got in the photo. Brenna looks nervous/scared, etc. 

AWKWARD.
Di sticking her tongue out, Jenni smiling nervously and politely. 

BEAUTIFUL.
(but kinda awkward for some reason)

BEAUTIFUL.
The Johnson Girls: Jessica, Jenni and Linda Mae

AWKWARD and BEAUTIFUL
Only b/c we were pinning Jenni's wedding dress together...and b/c of the obvious (Elly the creeper photo bomber!)

AWKWARD AND AWFUL!
What was I thinking? 8.5 months pregnant and wearing all that shiny fabric. Tragic!

BEAUTIFUL!!
Jenni & Diana (gorg!!)

BEAUTIFUL!

Jes & Jenni are T.A.N.

TOTALLY AWKWARD!

Match Christmas pajamas! 

You're welcome! 

More Awkward family photos will be coming so get ready for those!

Do You Ever Just Feel....

...CUTE?!?! Yes, my "funny ha ha" mantra is "I picked pretty" - (see my "complete profile" before you get all judgy). 

But I don't feel pretty very often.  

Listen up girls, I KNOW we all have those days that we just don't like how we look. The pants are too tight. The shirt is wrinkled (and since the invent of Downey wrinkle spray we have NO idea where our iron is or how to use it IF we did indeed find it). We're having a bad skin day. A bad makeup day. A bad hair day. All-in-all, it's a bad mirror day. And then we drop our kids off at school, mother's day out, or we walk into the 'office' feeling as low as we can go, low-and-behold, there SHE is. Probably vetted as People magazine's "Most Beautiful Woman Alive" but she turned it down because she ate a grape and was bloated that day. The comparisons continue throughout the day until you downward spiral so severely that you resign yourself to going home, putting on old maternity pants and eating ice cream and drinking wine on the couch. Oh, just me? PUUUULLLLEEEAAASSSE, guuuurl! I know I'm preachin' to the choir. I know we're all in this boat together. 

But aren't you thankful for ONE day (in like 42 days) that you actually feel CUTE! 

I'm having that day. I feel cute today. I'm usually in yoga pants, sloppy pony tail & hat, minimal makeup (revealing all my skin conditions: dry, oily, old, wrinkled, eczema, acne). But today I did my hair and put on makeup...like really put on makeup. I'm wearing colorful clothes, not my usual "black is slimming" pants & shirt combo that makes me look more 'fashion victim' than 'fashion forward.' I'm wearing heals. My husband said, "You look pretty today." Hey, I'll take it! 

When I write people notes, I often end it by saying "KEEP GOING!" 
So today, if you feel ugly, gross, fat, less-than, defeated...KEEP GOING! Today ain't over and tomorrow is just on the horizon. Keep going! 

My hair started out BAAAAD today, but I kept going. The small victory for me was that, in the end, I feel cute. 

So KEEP GOING, GUUUURRRRL!! 

Here's some pics for the encouragement of your...laughter!

Curled bangs + Callick = YUCK!

So I kept going...

And check it, direct it! I pulled out my weapon of mass destruction (blue titanium flat iron) and whipped those bangs into perfect shape!

KEEP GOING!

I hope you feel cute. 

Ode to Stephanie Ann Dale Miller

I wanted to share something I wrote about a friend. She was a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother.  This is my belated "Mother's Day" thought...

April 11, 2013

ODE TO STEPHANIE ANN DALE MILLER

Some news just plain hits you in the gut, takes your breath away, and breaks your heart. I got that sort of news this evening. The kind of news that has made me cry my eyes out, reflect, pray, wrestle with and submit to my Maker. 

Here's what happened:

I walked in to meet my Mom for dinner tonight. Emery was freaking out like she does every single time she sees her beloved grandma. She was moving as quickly as she could through the crowd to get to Gaga and I was trying to guide her with one hand so that she didn't plow down any bystander. In all the commotion, I didn't notice how still Mom was. I didn't see her expression as I guided Emmy into "Gaga's" lap, stuffed the diaper bag into the booth and plopped my tired self down. And then I saw the look on her face. She couldn't even look up to meet my stare as I instinctively asked, "What's wrong, Mom?" 

"Have you checked Facebook in the last three hours?"

"Umm" I had to think, "yeah, I think so...why? What's wrong?"

"I can't say it." 

She slid her phone across the table and I picked it up with both haste and reluctance. There it was. Facebook official from the page of my childhood friend, Rachel, it read: "My sister, Stephanie Ann Dale Miller, has gone to meet her Savior today." Steph had battled brain cancer for two and a half years and this cool day in April, she had drawn her last breath and was now healed and whole before her Lord. She was 37. She left behind a husband and two daughters. 

I bowed my head and wept. Thankfully I was wearing my workout clothes and a ball cap that covered my face so I didn't cause anyone to lose their appetite with my ugly cry. I unashamedly wept.

The waitress stopped, "Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

Mom answered, "We just got sad news."

The waitress, obviously a Believer, replied, "Should I bring chocolate cake?”

I'm a Texas girl through and through but I am originally from Kansas City, Kansas. Our family lived about a decade of my childhood years in Kansas before Mom and Dad got right with the Lord and made our permanent home in Texas. God was good to us in KS. We had tons of family around us, Grandma lived three minutes away, we purchased our first house, belonged to a great church family and best of all...we had The Dale Girls. 

Mrs. Dale, whom Jenni and I inappropriately and accidentally always called by her first name, Nelda, was funny and charming and beautiful and full of life and love and music and the Word. She loved God and she loved her family. And she loved to laugh. And she raised her daughters with those characteristics fully in tact.

The youngest of Mrs. Dale's three daughters was Melissa. Melissa and Jenni were the same age and they were thick as thieves. Adorable and silly and funny and so incredibly annoying to me and...

Rachel...the middle daughter and my best friend. Rachel was my age. Equally as self-righteous and know-it-all as moa. It's a wonder we ever got along. But Rachel was my muse. When we moved from KS to TX, she was the inspiration for my now famous poem, "Friends In The Heart". (It will be remembered with the greats, like Emerson and Dr. Seuss.) Rachel was smart and well read and she always did what was right. She was the friend I didn't ever want to disappoint.  

And then there was Stephanie. The eldest of three daughters. A natural beauty. An entertaining thespian. A singer. An actress. A comedian. You name it, she could do it, be it, mimic it. When Stephanie smiled, you couldn't help but wonder what was behind the smile, because she didn't just smile, she laughed. There was a laugh behind her smile. She smiled with her eyes, her cheeks, her nose and her lips. Stephanie was larger than life. She was three and a half years older than me. Just enough age difference for me to watch her, imitate her, hold her in high esteem. I secretly worshiped and idolized her, even though I pretended to be frustrated and annoyed when she would yell at me and Rae for bothering her. Having no big sister of my own, Stephanie was my surrogate big sister. She was bossy and loud and funny and sarcastic and charming and witty and polite. She could speak comfortably in front of a crowd, even a crowd of adults. As a matter of fact, she was incredible in front of a doting congregation...her best and truest self. She oozed confidence and charisma. Yeah, I totally worshiped her.  She was always singing...usually some show tune from a musical I had not yet seen or heard of. She had a great sense of style that sometimes stretched her parents but she was obedient and in the end she chose modesty and made it look cute.  She had friends and she even had boyfriends...whoa...she was so cool. 

Steph was so cool that "playing" with the four of us younger girls was beneath her, and looking back, I totally get it! What would a thirteen-year-old want to do with a herd of eight-and-ten-year-old babies? But every now and again, we would beg, plead and somehow con Steph into helping us in one of our games of school or house. The most memorable for me was the time the "Fab Four" (i.e. Rachel, Jessica, Melissa & Jenni) joined forces to play some sort of version of house. I think Rachel was the "Mom" because she was making us all sandwiches in the "kitchen". And I think Jenni, Melissa and I were all actresses or singers...maybe the first Dixie Chicks. But the most notable moment of our pretend world game was when we were going on "stage", doing our hair and makeup, and Stephanie helped us stuff our shirts with socks so that we would look more "womanly". Maybe I shouldn't write that, maybe it's inappropriate. But we were young and innocent...and flat-chested. I remember Rachel being both horrified and amused at the three of us and our voluptuous, yet lumpy bosoms. Stephanie laughed the entire time she rolled tube socks for us. Showing us how to tuck our shirts into our pants just right so that the socks were held into perfect place. And when her masterpiece was finished, she paraded us into the kitchen yelling, "Mom! You gotta see this!" Mrs. Dale laughed her infectious howl and called Jenni "Dolly Parton". 

Yes, that's what I remember about Stephanie...teaching me how to stuff my shirt with tube socks. Every girl needs a big sister to teach her the important things in life. 

But the "Stephanie" memory that stands out as the brightest in my mind is seeing Stephanie sitting in a wingback chair near the fireplace in the formal living/sitting room holding her Bible. It sticks out in my mind because I remember thinking, "That Bible is HUGE". She must have been reading a study Bible or Life Application Bible because at that age, the Bible looked big enough to be the "Family Bible" in Steph's small and delicate hands. She was writing, maybe in the Bible, or maybe in a journal, but I thought, "Look at her. She's reading the Bible and no one is making her." She was maybe thirteen years old. 

What a testimony. Diving into the Word because she wanted to. Because she loved Jesus. Because she was hungry for Truth. Because she was His. 

In later years, we would see The Dale Girls on other occasions when we would visit family in KS. I had the honor of being a bridesmaid in Rachel's wedding when we were nineteen. Stephanie was there...a newlywed. And she was even more fabulous at 23 than she was at 13! And, again, I saw her reading her Bible one morning. She was radiant. Beautiful. Full of Light and Love. She was full of the Lord. 

Steph gave me great big sister advice on that trip, "Jessica, whatever you do, DO NOT get your bangs trimmed the week before you get married." And then she handed me her bridal portrait and she cackled as she let her laugh roll from her belly. Her bangs were short. But I didn't laugh, I was breathless. She was perfect. Flawless. She looked like a royal princess bride. And her prince, Phillip, what a beautiful couple. They were regal and young and full of life. 

Three years ago, my phone rang and to my surprise, it was Stephanie. She had read my blog about our struggle with infertility. She was calling to offer me encouragement and hope. She, too, had struggled in getting pregnant with their second daughter, Emily. I remember telling her that I had stopped all fertility treatment because my heart and mind couldn't take any more hurt and disappointment for that season. Stephanie was quiet. She didn't try to fill the space in my aching heart with empty words. She listened. And when she responded, her words were wise and life giving. And later that year when I did get pregnant, she sent me a message on FB telling me how happy she was for what God was giving us. It was the same month that she was diagnosed with her brain tumor. She was writing to offer me more encouragement and love and hope even in the face of her own mountain. 

And so, when I read that she was now in Heaven, I hung my head, ball cap covering my face, and I wept. Because the earth suffered a loss. And Heaven gained one of its own. I know many family members greeted her. And I imagine that my Dad waited in line to hug her and welcome her. And they smiled at each other…those infectious smiles. And they laughed. And they worshiped at the feet of Jesus. 

And today though there are holes in earthly, human hearts because of our temporary loss, Stephanie is whole. She is with her Savior, the Lover of her soul, her Great Physician. 

You are missed, Stephanie. But you will never be forgotten. 

Love Your Surrogate Other Little Sister,

Jessica (PS - I finally got boobs)

Proverbs 31:28-31

(Ode to Steph, the virtuous woman)

Her children rise up and call her blessed; 


Her husband also, and he praises her:

“Many daughters have done well, 


But you excel them all.”

Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, 


But a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised.

Give her of the fruit of her hands, 


And let her own works praise her in the gates.”

Side Note: 

I was blessed to attend Stephanie's funeral a week later and her brave Mama and Husband both spoke her praises AT the funeral...WOW! 

Her Mom (Mrs. Dale, aka, "Nelda") left us with this incredible verse: 

"I have no greater joy than to hear my children walk in truth." 3 John 4 

Oh that we may all walk in this same joy so that we can hold each other again in heaven! 

Go, ye, make disciples!!

(pictured below: Melissa, Stephanie, Rachel)

Hello Stranger!

...So, it's been nearly, I dunno, like two years (or more) since I last posted anything on my blog. My last blog entry was the announcement that I was finally pregnant and oh my my, what ride it has been! The pregnancy FLEW by! I worked so much & was so sick and exhuasted that I didn't keep up with blogging but I did keep a VERY detailed journal that I wrote in at least twice a week for the duration of the pregnancy. I'm going to give it to our daughter one day when she's old enough to appreciate it. I will probably go through it and blog some of my old entries every now and again.

We were thrilled to welcome Emery Noel Phillips into our arms on Tuesday, February 8, 2011. She weighed 6 lbs, 10 oz and was 19 inches long. She just turned TWO! I can't believe it...time both flies and crawls. She was a healthy infant with the exception of yucky colic and acid reflux. She was definitely a high maintenance baby (wonder where she got that?)! And now she's a TODDLER - WHEW! She keeps Mama & Daddy on their toes! She began sleeping through the night at 16 weeks old and Brad and I couldn't have been more thankful! It was the "break" we needed. I had terrible guilt associated with not really "loving" motherhood. I wasn't the warm fuzzy Mom that LOVED being at home. I recognize that millions of women wish/dream they could stay at home...I recognize the privilege, believe me. But I also recognize that God wires us each differently and gifts us specifically - and I am, without a doubt, an EXTROVERT. So being at home with an infant that only screamed and spewed was not ideal. It was not what the Rom-Coms and the Parenting magazines promised. It wasn't sweet and beautiful...it was awful! If I showered once a week during the first four months of Emmy's life, that was a success. Don't judge me...okay, judge me. I don't care. I survived! And Brad survived! And Emery survived! By the grace of God's goodness, we survived! 

So now I'm back to blogging. I'll be more faithful. I promise. Pinkie swear. I have new inspiration in my heart & mind to keep me steadfast...and I'll tell you about that inspiration later this week, but for now I gotta run!

Till then...