Monday, October 8, 2012

The Perils of Family Photos


Growing up family photos meant that everyone stood together in front of the Christmas Tree, or the bush out front while grandma or grandpa took our picture. I think my wedding day was the first time a professional photographer took a picture of my parents with my sisters and I.

When we had our first child I wanted to start doing family pictures regularly. I love photos and photography and I made it a personal mission to make sure we had perfect family pictures taken at least once, but ideally twice a year.

Do family photos make anyone else crazy?

It used to be a running joke, not while it happened of course but after, that my husband and I were guaranteed to fight on family photo day. Every. Single. Time. We would drive stiff lipped to the location glaring out the windows while giving each other the silent treatment and the side eye. My husband was convinced that photos made me loose my mind, I was convinced he was trying to sabotage them.

It would start with the clothes. Oh what would we wear! Closets and closets full of clothes and we never had the “right” outfit. I would pile up the options, ask him questions, trying to get opinions he didn’t have. In a huff I would send photos to friends to get their opinions. Now's there's Instagram, so I don't need to ask him.


Then there was the stress of the poses, getting kids to cooperate, to smile, to even be in the picture!

Thankfully for my family I have really mellowed in the last few years. I have learned that it doesn’t matter what we look like just as long as we are there. I’ve found some great photographers and I have learned to really just go with the flow.

Yesterday we had family pictures. I had outfits picked out ahead of time. I was calm, cool and relaxed, even with dirty hair! We were on time! Everyone was happy and {mostly} agreeable, what could go wrong?

The toddler can throw her most beloved animal off a bridge.

Yep, literally a second after I said to my husband “watch her” over the side of the bridge her lamb goes. She squeals and laughs with glee, until she realizes daddy can’t just reach down and get it.

Me: Dear, jump down, go get it.
PBDad: Um? PBboy can I hold you by the ankles?
Me: {glaring} Get. Down. Now.
PBD: um...really?
Me: {Glares}

He did jump down, thankfully it wasn’t far and it was dry since it was October. The toddler squealed with joy hugged her lamb and ran a few feet down the bridge.

Where she promptly threw it off the bridge again.

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