Ahh, the holiday season. Where you get beautiful photos with family and friends showing you how wonderful their children are shaping up to be.
Spectacularly crafted cards that line your fridge, doorway, or maybe even a fancy card holder thingy ma bobber. I was always so envious of the beautiful photos in the orchards or gorgeous staged photos and how all the children were smiling.
It felt like in every photo I had with my children, I was sporting a double chin with a mound of laundry in the background.
When my eldest daughter was six months old, I decided to do a mini “photo shoot” for her. And by that, I mean I used portrait mode on my iPhone and laid on my belly to get close to her face. Because it was me she was smiling for, Aria had the most adorable huge grin that everyone thought was so beautiful.
And all I could think of was, “great; there’s my messy kitchen in the background.”
Albeit, blurred background (thanks, Apple).
As I relayed this all to my mother-in-law, she told me something that flipped my thinking. She said, “I love seeing old photos and getting a picture of where we were in life, what apartment we lived in, what our lives were like.”
What a novel idea. Taking a photograph to remember the moment as it was, in time. Not the perfection, but quite the opposite: the reality. To remember our lives as they were, not some picture-perfect version of us.
I was reminded of this again when a friend posted her ADORABLE children in their matching pajamas on Christmas Eve. They were both smiling. Oh, the envy! What I wouldn’t give for both of my little babes to be smiling…at the same fucking time. I messaged her and told her how jealous I was!
Her immediate response was a picture of her daughter melting seconds after the photo. Ha. What a relief! See, mamas, we’re all the same. We crave beautifully perfect photos, and for each one we have, we probably have 129 of the ones where there is a screaming toddler, someone with their eyes closed, a double chin, laundry in the background, or like my daughter, a toddler refusing to look at the camera in protest (she loves a good protest, post coming soon about that!).
New Year, New Me, then? Not quite.
Did we still take family photos at the apple orchard when we went apple picking? YES.
Did I still make my family wear matching flannel? YES.
Do I check my neck posture to avoid double chins? YES.
Do I still act like a crazy person trying to get both kids to smile? YES.
Do I still take 26 photo versions of every pose, hoping there is just one usable one? HELL YES.
Will I care as much about the laundry in the background? FUCK NO.
There is just so much laundry…
Welcome to REAL parenthood: where double chins are a parent standard in all photos
