This One’s For the Moms
For the overextended.
The flustered u0026amp; frazzled.
The put my kids and husband first and leave no time for me – women. For the circus-plate-spinner mom. For the hard at work, hard at home mom. For the moms who give 110% to everything but herself.
For the woman who doesn’t have time to smell the roses.
For the moms who are too busy shuffling kids from sport to sport to notice that her baby is not a baby anymore.
Her little girl is not a little girl.
Cuddling time is now play-with-friends time.
Bedtime stories are now gossip on my cell phone with my friends stories.
For the frantic, hectic, at-wits-end mom wanting to slow things down.
Slow down her mind, the pace, the day, the clock.
Slow dance to slow Jamz (in a deep voice, Ooooooh Yeaaaaaah.)
But most of all, for the moms who want to slow the kids from growing up.
That live in silent fear that one day they’ll wake up, and cuddling won’t be an option anymore.
I feel ya, lady.
Because the scariest part of my job?
Is photographing high school seniors, and hearing their moms say, “I can’t believe it is senior year,” and then watching them pretend not to cry during the viewing session (that’s right, I SEE you wipe your eyes…I KNOW you aren’t scratching your nose). Not because I did such a cry-worthy job, but because their baby is all grown up, and I know that some day my kids will too.
It’s reality hitting me like the spit blob dripping from my son’s mouth that hits me smack dab in the mouth (that has happened to you too, right?)
This cuddling, kissing, hugging, smothering thing my boys love right now?
Not so much when their teens.
I have GOT to have proof that these moments existed.
Or better? Have blackmail when their first prom date comes over in her gaudy, glittery prom gown.
Best? Relive those moments again.
And so I photograph my kids.
Duh, you’re thinking. You ARE a photographer.
Yeah, but I’m like the plumber with the leaky pipes. The shoe guy whose kids have no shoes (what’s that guy called again?). The vineyard owner who doesn’t have any wine (wait…that would never happen).
But you know what’s missing?
ME. And YOU. All moms in GENERAL.
OK. I’m not in love with my appearance right now. Is anybody really ever?
But guess what?
You know the one species of small human beings that doesn’t give a crap about what we look like? That will NEVER secretly say, “oh man, she’s sure had a few donuts?”
Your kids. Those little tiny mini versions of you.
They love you unconditionally. Like literally, unless you are clinically insane, and even then? They absolutely think the world, the universe, the space-time-continuum of you. (I watched a lot of Star-Trek as a kid. Blame it on my Dad.)
And some day?
The only thing they will want is a real, genuine, laughing, giggling, squealing photo of you so that they can feel what their childhood was like again.
That’s right. You’re all thinking, “ooh, this is a special treat for me, photos, yay!”
But really? The photos are for them.
Because in 20 years?
You’ll be 20 years older. And so will they.
And you can never, ever, “neva-eva-eva”
get to meet and feel and squeal with your kids at that age again.
I’m getting a little deep on you, eh?
What’s a Mom to do, then?
Get photos taken, and get them taken often with YOU in them! And not just professional photos…I’m talking about giving your husband/boyfriend/partner the camera a few times. You need to EXIST in the past!
And when you think you want something worthy of hanging on your wall? You know who to call 😉
And a few tips, since now you are going to be photographed all the time by everybody, and NEED to look like the Diva that you are….
You don’t need to be a model to look smokin’ hot in photos.
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