Monday, March 21, 2016

That One Time I Took the Boys to Get Their Pictures Taken . . . .

Preface:  I wrote this story almost seven years ago (and posted it on Facebook) but I thought it would be fun to add here on the blog (that I sporadically post on).  Just a month after this happened, Daniel was formally diagnosed with autism, although we were already fairly certain that would be the case.  At the time, Daniel was a month shy of three years old, Ben was a little over one, and I was five and a half months pregnant with boy number three.  So, yay, not sure what the heck I was thinking!  I hope you get a good laugh out of it. 

"Let's start with him," the photographer said, pointing at Daniel.

Neen was the photographer's name, or at least that's what his nametag said and he looked all of 18 years old. He had a wide smile and an eager expression and I knew, I just knew, that he'd be no match for Daniel.

Somehow, in my great wisdom, I had decided to single-highhandedly (and five and a half months pregnant to boot) take both boys for photos. There was trouble on the horizon and I was all alone.

Daniel looked at us, dressed in a blue striped shirt and matching shorts. His eyes round and owlish behind his glasses. His face shone with the innocence and obedience of any sweet, precious toddler. And then, as is often the way with two year olds, the switch flipped and that look was gone, replaced by outright stubbornness and defiance.

"Daniel," Neen said. "Could you sit down for me?" He pointed at the white backdrop that covered the wall and ground.

"No."

"Daniel, can you stand here for me?"

"No."

"Daniel, can you catch the ball?"

"No."

And so on and so on and so on. I tried to help. I resorted to begging, pleading, bribing, and finally threatening . . . but Daniel stubbornly refused to cooperate. Oh, he played with the props--a duck, a monkey, a bear--but he wouldn't go near the backdrop. Neen was not to be deterred though--he got help, in the form of two other employees. They tried too--they begged, they pleaded, they bribed, and I'm sure ten minutes after meeting Daniel, they really WANTED to threaten.

After perhaps 20 minutes of trying to coerce Daniel into something that resembled a smile, and failing miserably, Neen decided it was best to "give Daniel a break" and move onto Ben. Little Benjabean (my nickname for him) had looked on with interest from the stroller and when it was his turn to perform, he did not disappoint. Of course, if you've ever met Ben, you'd know that there's nothing he likes better than smiling and showing off for people. So Ben laughed and smiled and Neen took about 30 pictures in which Ben posed for the camera each and every time.

Meanwhile, Daniel played with the monkey.

Then it was time to get pictures of the two of them together. There is was, a spring background, a cute little "wall" for them to sit on, and let the fun begin. Not one time would the two of them sit next to each other. Not once, for even a split second did they both look at the camera at the same time. In fact, what happened was a wrestling match of epic portions.

In the end, Neen's smile was much more wobbly than when we started and if he ended up with even half the headache I did, then I hope he took the rest of the day off. I'm certain he had a deeply philosophical inner-monologue about his career choice.

Afterwards, exhausted and grumpy, I chose pictures quickly and it wasn't too hard since my choices were very limited. The boys sat quietly next to each other this whole time and devoured a bag of Goldfish crackers.

One day, I'm sure I'll look back on this and laugh and think about how silly my boys were when they were almost three and 14 months. And one day, when they are big and grown, I might even wish to relive this day just to have them little and cuddly again, to see Daniel with that look of pure mischief in his eye or Ben with his cheeky little grin. Even though it was a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad trip to the photographer's, I still thank God that I have two little boys to do it with. Motherhood is the coolest job in the whole world, even on days like this.

Of course, I couldn't tell this story without proof so . . . . Enjoy!


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