by Amber Dubois, professional photographer and 24/7 mother
This past Saturday was Family Picture Saturday.
I know, right? I totally heard your collective gasp, followed immediately by sympathetic and concilatory phrases. I know if that such a miracle of modern technology existed, I'd be receiving pats on the back and comforting hugs via e-mail right now. Like the very large whiskey with a Corona back I wished I had afterward, your empthy is warm and soothing to my frazzled nerves.
Because, my people, it was bad. It was That Bad. So bad.
Hang on a sec. I need a moment. I'm having what can best be described as a combat flashback.
So, here's the thing. We don't GO somewhere to take pictures of the fam. If that were the case, I'd be all fine and dandy--no stress at all. No, we don't do that, and do you know why? Because I own my own business. As a photographer. Children, families and senior pictures.
Sucks to be me, eh?
I don't know why this is true, but it is--it's always harder to take pictures of your own people than it is to take pictures of someone else's people. When you tell clients things like "Try to wear colors in the same family, no prints, if we're shooting outdoors, go casual.", they say "Thank you for the advice! We'll do that!" When you tell FAMILY the exact same thing, you get:
"Do we HAVE to wear blue again this year?" or
"Why can't I wear plaid?" or
"I was thinking that Nate could wear a suit and we could go sit out front on the porch."
These same people who tell me I take great pictures and ask me if I can photograph their children are also the most gigantic pains in the keester to photograph...and they get it for FREE! While strangers rely on me for expert advice and give my thoughts on the matter serious consideration, these people who know and love me act like I'm one step up from mayonnaise on the IQ charts.
This year was no different from any other. The minute we decided on the date, the whining over my "demands" for wardrobe and location began. And like every other year, it didn't stop. But unlike any other year, this year I have two mobile children and a temper that's on a really, really short leash. So, I gave in and let everyone wear whatever the hell they wanted.
So, my family all showed up in whatever we wanted, but everyone still looked like they belonged together and we wore the same tone of clothing--fall colors. And my Mom and Step-Dad wore blue. And my brother's family all wore brown.
Seriously?! Seriously? They whined about this over and over and over again, and when I finally give in and let them do their own thing, they all conform to one version of what I had asked them to do previously?!
GAH.
Lest you think that it got better from there, let me rob you of your silver lining. It didn't.
The babies (Charlotte and her cousin Ethan) were both cranky. Charlotte would not look at the camera. Ethan wouldn't hold his head still. Peyton wouldn't stop being a goofball. Eric wouldn't put his chin down so I could get rid of the glare on his glasses. Then Eric wouldn't take his shoes off so we could do our cute, casual, barefoot shots--and not only that, but he threw a gigantic fit about it. Then we did the kids in their Christmas outfits, in front of the tree, and Charlotte wouldn't leave her headband in OR her shoes on. She also wouldn't stop screaming. Neither baby would sit still, and when I asked Katie to move out of the frame, she started crying.
The picture at the top of this entry...yeah, that just about sums it up. That's my oldest, Peyton, giving me a look I'm sure we'll be revisiting in her teen years. And that's the only picture I have of Charlotte where she's reasonably cheerful.
Welcome to the holiday season, everyone! It's all downhill from here!
