it’s crap. But time passes and
the post gets better.
Photograph! (Sung like Joe Elliott. Or Chris Daughtry. Did you know he remade* that song? With Santana! Carlos. Not the girl from Glee.)
Julia has never been so jealous. She just couldn’t understand. Why Lucy?
“Do they know you have other daughters? Did you tell them about me? I don’t think you should let her do it. It doesn’t seem fair that only Lucy gets to do it. Lucy doesn’t even care about being a model!”
But the truth was, Lucy cared. A lot. She tried so hard. And I think she did well.
This one is my favorite:
You can’t tell, but she has marker on her hands.
I don’t often do professional pictures of my girls. Pictures are expensive and there’s just so much pressure getting them done. You have to figure out what they’ll wear and how to do their hair. Then you have to actually make them wear it without messing it up, all the while keeping their spirits high – you want them to smile, after all. And will they smile? No. At least not at the same the time. Or while looking at the camera. And you sweat pit stains with all the jumping and dancing and begging and “Weee! Look at Mommmeeeee!” you do to try and get them to, “Look over here! Smile! Hurry! The next session just walked in the door!!! Who wants ice cream!?!?! Smile! Smile!!! Uhhh, hey girls! BUTT! Ha! ha! Mommy just said ‘butt!’ Isn’t that funny? Yeah, that’s right! BUTT!!!” All for fake, forced grins in bought-it-just-for-the-picture outfits, because let’s face it, everything else they own is stained.
I already hand over way too much cash for the school and extracurricular photos that are taken of the kids, unfortunately, by the same old photographer in front of the same old backdrop doing the same old pose. In different outfits, however! I know I don’t have to buy them. Not legally. Still, I feel obligated. How can I not buy pictures of my kids? Even when the experience is, “What package did they buy?”
“Just a 5 x 7.”
“Oh.” Click. “Next.”
I prefer to take – for free – my own pictures at my own pace where we live and play in clothes we actually wear with smiles that grew organically from the joy of life, not because I sold out and said “butt.” (Not that saying “butt” isn’t a joyful part of our daily life. It’s just better when it happens spontaneously. Or in conjunction with “chicken” in response to the query “Guess what?”) Still, I know my pictures aren’t the same as professional pictures as I am not a professional. My plan has been to have a photo shoot with a professional at our house as a gift to myself when I reach my goal weight and then yearly thereafter. But yesterday I made a peanut butter marble cake with peanut buttercream frosting and I ate most of it, so it seems unlikely that will happen soon. It’s a good thing I had photos taken of all the girls before Lucy’s modeling session.
I absolutely love them.
Lacey – the photographer at Hot Shotz – is magic. I don’t know how or when she grabbed these images. I was there, but I don’t ever remember my girls looking like this. I don’t recall them ever looking like anything but uncaged chimps on LSD.
Lacey also happens to be one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. I’ve never heard her say anything but kind things to or about other people.
My kids love her.
I do, too.
Her pictures were so worth it.
You can see the entire set of photos from our session here.
And you should listen to Def Leppard’s Photograph by Chris Daughtry and Santana.
the doors close, the water sprays
Lucy fah-reaks out
keep looking »