Not Your Typical Photo Shoot

On Thursday we cancelled our family pictures due to rain. It had been raining all day and we told ourselves the conditions weren’t ideal, especially with kids. There’d be mud and puddles and it’d be a mess—a disaster. We rescheduled for Tuesday.

On Tuesday, our car broke down on the way to get Loren from daycare. The stress mounted as Kai and I waited for a tow truck, and Daddy had to shift plans and run (literally run) to get Loren from daycare. It was a gorgeous 74-degree day, and it was sunny! Pretty much the perfect day for pictures, if not a bit windy.

Our photographer, Megan Hansen of Onyx + Opal Creative Co., even offered to come to our backyard and do the shoot there, but we still said no. It was too much stress. Too rushed. Too much mud. Too wet down by the creek. It’d be a mess—a disaster. We rescheduled for Friday.

On Thursday afternoon, one day before family pictures, Loren’s eye was slightly red and glassy (pink eye?) and Kai busted his lip on the pavement. I looked at Jim, “We’re not seriously going to reschedule for a third time, are we?” He shrugged his shoulders. This was by far the worst situation we’d been in all week in terms of evaluating photo readiness. If there was a reason to cancel family photos, this was probably it.

I texted our photographer about Loren’s eye and Kai’s lip, and how insane it was to be thinking about rescheduling for a third time. “I feel like the universe is working against us and our family photos.”

And then, cue the voice of reason and truth, Megan responded with, “Or maybe, the universe is just telling you that you are loved and accepted just as you are, and it wants you to remember these crazy times with littles.”

And that was it. I knew she was right. I realized I’d been trying to ensure everything was “just right” for our family photos. It couldn’t be raining, or muddy. There couldn’t be any bumps, bruises, illnesses, or ailments. There couldn’t be any stress. I couldn’t feel rushed. Everyone had to stay clean. Like, extraordinarily clean. (Huddle up for the spit shine, kids!) The list went on and on.

I realized that I’d been trying to create the perfect conditions to yield the perfect pictures. In other words, I was attempting the impossible. I saw everything as a problem instead of an opportunity.

Life is chaotic, it’s messy. The kids’ clothes are stained, their hands are sticky, the cupboards are splattered. They’ve got dirt under their fingernails, mud on their shoes, their hair is wild from the wind. And in these moments, they’re perfect. Just the way they are.

On Friday, we took the f*cking pictures.

Loren’s eye looked significantly better, but Kai’s lip was much worse, the bruising and scraped skin on his upper lip a bright red.

We arrived at the photo shoot in the loaner car. It started to sprinkle. When Megan arrived, we walked down a path to a grassy field. The ground was wet, and there were muddy puddles everywhere. Basically, any kid’s dream.

It started slow. The kids stayed dry while Megan captured a few photos, but it wasn’t long before Loren and Kai were jumping in puddles on the sidewalk—and why not?

When Loren and Kai’s shoes were soaked, they jumped barefoot. Mom and Dad joined in too.  After that, we braved the deep puddles in the grass.

Megan’s nudging “to remember these crazy times with littles” gave us permission to stop stressing and shifted our entire perspective of what a photo shoot should be. Instead of stressing about details, trying to keep the kids clean, fight the tantrums as we made them stand here or stay away from there, we just had fun. We played outside together.  

We’ve never—ever—since having kids given ourselves permission to run through giant muddy puddles with them and soak ourselves to the core, but I’m so glad we did. It was the most liberating photo shoot I’ve ever experienced. And I’m so glad Megan was there to capture it all.

The next time we schedule family photos, I’ll go into it with a new perspective. We’ll show up—maybe in the rain next time—and she’ll capture the magic as it happens.