Not Picture Perfect

About three weeks ago, our family had professional pictures taken for the first time in three years.  As you might recall, family portraits aren't exactly something our family excels at. (You can read more about our trouble with pictures HERE). In fact, if I had to describe what it's like to wrangle four kids, two with autism, one with opinions, and a three year old, I would have to say it's something like herding cats.

In other words, impossible.

Thankfully, we attend church with a lovely family who sit behind us almost every week and they do this on purpose.  For some reason, they aren't too annoyed with the rodeo in our row (and yes, I've checked, they have good hearing and sight).  Maria, of said family, is a photographer so a few months ago I asked if she would be brave enough to photograph my monsters children.

"I'd love to, " she said without even thinking about it.

"Um, you know that it might be kind of difficult?" I asked. (Queen of the understatement here).

"I'm not worried.  It will be fine." Maria smiled at me brightly and we set up a date for the session in early September.

It was hot that evening and the humidity was about 1000% (how I wish that were an exaggeration). Maria, with the assistance of her husband and one of her daughters, took us to a quiet dirt road with a privacy gate (so, no real places for any escaping children to go). I'd like to tell you that all the children were excited about getting pictures but that would be a lie.

Daniel decided, rather than be with us, wanted to go exploring on the other side of the privacy gate.  He was so intent on this, he didn't want to be in the pictures at all.  When he is anxious about something, he talks and asks many questions, usually the same question many times.  Things like, "Why can't I go over to the other side?"  "I hate pictures.  Can I climb the fence?"  "I don't want to smile."  He carried in his hand a small (very sad-looking) monkey as a fidget toy and refused to keep it in his pocket.

The monkey made it into a few pictures.

Ben was, for the most part, his easy-going self.  He's never had a problem hamming it up for the camera.

Gideon was . . . Gideon.  New place, new things to explore. Things are always more interesting to him rather than people.  Add to that people who are begging him to just look at the camera?  I don't think so.  Someone told me this week that it Gideon always seemed like he was planning to do something.  Yes, he is. And it's never what you want him to do.  Finally Maria said, "I'll just follow him and I'll get the shot." So that's what she did."  I can't say that he ever quite looked at the camera in any of his pictures but he didn't lay down in the dirt road in protest so I consider it a win.

Lastly, Katherine, who is, well, three and, I think the nice way people say it is, strong-willed.  As someone else pointed out to me recently, Katherine has three big brothers so by sheer necessity she is more aggressive, more bossy, more mean, and much, much more stubborn than all of our other children are.

All that to say, Katherine is the reason I need wine at the end of the day.

She also wasn't on board with this whole picture thing.  She wasn't terribly interested in smiling or cooperating but Maria did manage to get a few good pictures of her nonetheless.

Then, of course, there were the actual family pictures. The ones where all six of us were supposed to look in the camera and smile at the same time.  

Herding cats, guys.  Herding cats.

I'll be honest, I had no idea how these pictures were going to turn out.  I've seen Maria's work.  She takes beautiful pictures.  She's a professional.  She knows what she's doing.

But this was our family, you all. We are not the family who wears matching clothes and then, with matching toothy smiles, poses with grace and ease by staring right into the camera.  We are not the family that will patiently wait to be arranged and rearranged to get everyone just so.  We are not the family that takes direction well . . . or at all.

In short, we are not the picture perfect family.

And yet, this is the perfect picture of us.  Something about it says so much about our family.  Maybe it's the silly expression on Gideon's face or the way Daniel is definitely not looking at the camera.  We aren't standing perfectly straight or still.  Some of us have smiles, some of don't.  Some of us are tired, flustered, done with this picture business.  Some of us just wanted one good picture of everyone together.  Just one!

It's not a perfect picture but it's a perfect picture of us and, because of that, it will proudly hang on our living room wall. I don't consider myself a perfectionist but I do get caught up in trying to be perfect every now and then.  I wanted these pictures to be perfect and . . . no one cooperated.  Yet I love each photograph.  They make me smile and they make me laugh and they say, "This is our family," loudly and proudly. 

Being perfect is hard (and impossible and kind of boring).

Be imperfect; all of my favorite people are.

***Special Thanks to Maria Arcement at Two Cups of Kids Photography for having patience with us and taking beautiful, perfect pictures of my imperfect but beautiful family.  You're the bestest!

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