I went through an excruciating experience this past week known as ... family portraits. Ironically, I have been feeling somewhat guilty about not having had professional portraits taken for a long time 12 years, give or take.
I have had to stop and ask, family-focused gal that I think I am, "Why haven't we done family portraits in so long?"
I swiped the cobwebs from my memory and reflected on our previous experiences. All I could recall was that my one toddler son had begun crying the minute I had tried to dress him, and stopped only for a window of about 30 seconds in the entire two-hour photo shoot. We still have that picture he is turning, looking back over his shoulder, with a smile that would melt butter, and you would never know he had been a howling terror moments before.
Since then I have refused to take our children to a professional place for family portraits and simply lined them up in whatever they were wearing to take a picture.
It wasn't until a media opportunity presented itself that I reconsidered. Each of the women involved in this opportunity dutifully sent in their family portraits for a video montage. I sat looking at my family "picture" with us all seated on a rock making various faces, and thought to myself, this leaves something wanting.
So, I optimistically made the appointment, thinking rosily about how lovely this portrait would be. I will not go into detail on the preparations involved, only that they involved a monumental search for black shirts for a 3- AND 6-year-old, and a great many chocolate cravings.
On the actual evening of the portraits I bathed, combed, detangled, curled, straightened, gelled, and in all ways manhandled all six children's hair, had them dressed in matching black sweaters and blue jeans without any holes. Also, all the jeans all had to be a matched shade of denim so that none would stand out.
Once ready, I old my children not to play, move or breathe vigorously. My husband, I discovered, had traveled to several far away, unplanned and supposedly very vital cities, leaving me in dry heaves and without him at the start of our appointment.
In this relaxed state, I ventured to the portraits with the children, praying to love my husband when I saw him. Unfortunately, this was not possible.
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