“There are no bad pictures; that's just how your face looks sometimes.”

I have decided the time has come for me to select a picture for my blog.  Let me start by saying I HATE having my picture taken and in general do my best to always avoid being the subject of any photos.  It's ironic given how much I love pictures and that I have been scrapbooking for close to fifteen years. I love pictures and the memories they evoke but would rather focus on the places I've been and the people I love than be the subject.

There are two main reasons why I hate having my photo taken.  The first being what I have termed my "Sloth Eye."  As a teenager, my three best girlfriends and I loved to take pictures.  Before the days of digital photography, we would buy actual film or disposable cameras, snap ridiculous photos, drop the film off at CVS, and wait impatiently for them to be developed.  We would excitedly pick them up from the store and rip open the envelope to laugh at our awesome candids of one another, our goofy friends, and crushes. Repeatedly, I would look at the photos and groan at my awful droopy, squinty right eye.  What the heck? In my adorably cute pictures from my very early childhood, I never had this problem.  I don't have a lazy eye, but for whatever reason, I had developed what we coined my "Sloth Eye." The official term "Sloth Eye" is an allusion to Sloth from the classic film The Goonies. "Baby Ruth!"  Thankfully with the advent of digital photography, the incident rate of "Sloth Eye" has diminished significantly.  But I do feel the need to mention my dear friend Laura who knows about my "Sloth Eye" and during the whole process of my getting married--two bridal showers, a Bachelorette Party, Rehearsal Dinner, and actual Wedding Day, she was the best bridesmaid a girl could ask for since she would be on the lookout for my "Sloth Eye" and would immediately insist on a picture re-take.  She even warned my wedding photographer. In turn, I repaid the favor by informing Laura whenever she had some crumbs or weird stains on the shirt covering her then pregnant belly. Every girl needs a girlfriend who will look for spinach in your teeth or toilet paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe, and at first may laugh at you, but won't allow you to look ridiculous in front of others. 

My second reason for hating having my picture taken has to do with my own personal insecurities that stem from my tween and teen years.  You know how they say the camera adds ten pounds?  Well, when you factor in that I ALWAYS believe I can stand to lose a good five to ten pounds, according to my math, that puts me at a solid fifteen to twenty pounds heavier than I want to be in every single picture.  I do not feel that I am alone in this belief.  At least that's what I tell myself.  I think a lot of other women share the same insecurities about their bodies, or at least that's what I learned from watching the Today Show.  From fourth grade through twelfth grade, I vacillated through varying degrees of chubbiness.  Before entering a growth spurt, I would pack on the pounds and then grow an inch.  I never grew enough vertically though to ever really lose my chubbiness.  My insecurities were further compounded by having a "skinny attractive mom.  "That's your mom?" boys would question in disbelief.  I obviously didn't inherit her slim genes.  Even during pregnancy, my mom never endured the moment of when the nurse slides the big weight over. My senior year of high school, I went on the best diet ever--mono-- and dropped ten pounds.  During my freshmen year of college as a commuter I managed to drop the "freshmen fifteen." In college, I finally made some peace with my insecurities about my weight; although, I wouldn't have minded losing another five pounds.

During pregnancy, I did my best to feel carefree about gaining weight.  After all, I was growing a human being for goodness sake.  However, when you are pregnant, people you know and absolute strangers feel the need to constantly comment on your physical appearance.  Granted, people often say kind things like "Oh, you're carrying well" or "Wow, you're all belly."  But there are also a lot of people who give you backhanded compliments or are cluelessly just straight-up rude.  I remember when I was pregnant with my second son, one of my student's parents asked me if I was having a girl this time.  When I responded, "No, I'm having another boy."  She looked at me quizzically and noted how differently I was carrying this baby.  I took this to mean I looked like crap.  A few weeks later, I went out to celebrate my sister-in-law's 30th birthday.  I really didn't want to go because I was tired and pregnant, but my husband reminded me that with baby #2 due soon, I should get out while the getting was good.  I did my best to pull myself together and wore cute shoes in hopes they would distract from my burgeoning belly.  Forgetting that my sister-in-law and brother-in-law are usually late, I was the first one to arrive at the small restaurant.  I stood by the hostess stand since "bellying up" to the crowded bar seemed inappropriate.  A couple stood next to me, and the husband gave me a leering smile, "You got twins in there?"

I smiled back placidly, "No."  

He chortled, "Triplets, maybe?"

"No, thanks though," I replied sarcastically.

Two weeks later at a friend's wedding I had two other different individuals ask me if I was having twins.  Needless to say, I can probably count on one hand the number of photos there are of me during both of my pregnancies. 

As a mom, I now have the two best subjects for photos who have no inhibitions about having their photo taken.  Why would they? They are adorable.  I think most moms would agree that they spend most of their time behind the camera because often there's no one else around to take the picture. Fine by me.  However, as I began to look at the collection of photos of my boys, I began to rethink my self-imposed anonymity in these photos.  While I doubt my abilities as a mom on probably a daily basis, I do adore being with my boys and feel I am present, at least most of the time.  I love taking them to new places, jumping on a trampoline while they squeal with delight, or running around our house dancing as I play Martha Quinn with the On Demand Music Channel.  I know with the passage of time, my boys will forget these specific moments, but I hope they hold on to how they feel in those moments--happy, joyous and adored.  

I also reminded myself that I need to stop hiding behind the camera, so they can one day not just remember but see that Mom wasn't just there to take the picture, she was there to experience and enjoy the moment with them. That those photos with mom will evoke those memories and feelings.  Sure, I may have a "Sloth Eye" here or there, and from my perspective, I may look like I can stand to lose a few pounds, but when capturing those memories, "there are no bad pictures; that's just how [my] face looks sometimes" and that's okay.  

This photo was from Nate's first day of kindergarten as we waited for the school bus to pick him up; a milestone day I will never forget.  I still remember getting off the bus after my first day of kindergarten and running into my mom's arms.