My favorite photos aren't the professional portraits, although they are beautiful. My parents didn't have many childhood photos, even fewer professional portraits. But, the snapshots tell the stories better than any portrait could. Three little girls, one so young she still carries a baby bottle, each one with red painted lips, all smile at the camera. An every day moment, fortuitously captured, giving me a view to my family history.
It's easy these days to capture memories. We blog. We Facebook. We email, text, Skype, and Facetime. It seems that nearly every mom has a professional-grade camera swinging around her neck, and dad carries the video camera. We edit away the uglies. Out-takes are no more.
I have a picture of my mom at about age 17 sitting at what is now my dining room table. Through the kitchen door, we can see groceries and a red KFC bucket. And it makes me smile. Another picture of the same table shows my grandpa working on a radiator--at the table.
Today? Those would be the out-takes. Little everydays that would be lost.
But today? I carry a smartphone. It has a camera. I don't take the best pictures with it, but looking back through the files, I discovered those little family everydays that will someday tell our story:
The best part of this one? The gate in the background. We have to lock them upstairs some days to get a few minutes of peace. And the race car rug; they've spent hours on that mat.
Just a little trip to the little children's museum. She was so little!
This is what a drive across town at 4:30 looks like when you're 5. I wish I was 5 sometimes.
I left her too long in the chair; she tried to get out. What I'll notice 20 years from now? The Hot Wheels track in the floor behind her and the 2012 version of Crayons on her tray. Who knows what we'll have when she's 20?
Playdoh on the patio--because the last time they played Playdoh in the house, they smushed it into the carpet.
I make them work for their supper sometimes. And 20 years from now, I will be infinitely entertained by the Dyson in the background (for the price, it better still be running).
Helping with laundry.
The great escape.
How we spent those stormy nights in May. I suspect that pink blanket will go on her honeymoon.
Again, we see the elusive Dyson in its natural habitat.
How excited will I be to see Tidmouth Sheds and her yellow "flaps" in the toybox 25 years from now? (Let's hope the flaps have found their way to donation at somepoint--I am not a hoarder, but those hoarding tendencies....)
This is the way we cook.
And this is how we reasonably react to cake batter spills.
The little Hot Wheels in her cereal ("shreebel")? It was mine. And someday, I'll spend hours trying to figure out who the cartoon character in the back is.
Just a little girl putting on her lips for an everyday at home.
We'll miss Yellow Chair when it has to go someday. And it will definitely have to go someday. For now, it's the perfect fit for one mommy, two little ones, and a furry cat beast.
A big treat for a little man.
How many hours will we spend at our library? And without my ever present phone, how I would have missed this moment.
Summer can be hot. We can't all be as cool as our big brother.
'Cause he's definitely cool.
Every afternoon, he makes the run to the mailbox.
Swim lessons require a lot of stuff. Note the piles and piles of stuff.
I just love this picture. Period.
This makes me pretty happy too.
I spend 5 mornings a week waiting on a 5 year old to empty his backpack, hang his coat, and kiss my hand goodbye. At least once, I captured the morning routine, so my children's children will get to see where their daddy went to kindergarten.
Not spectacular of either child. Why I like it? I can see the treasure bin. That little pink box on the counter, filled with little treats that motivate my little man.
She just got totally busted on the train table--and is completely unaware.
I hope she always gets this excited for the library.
Terrible quality, but it was her first day in a swim cap. She asked for it for weeks. I finally caved.
She refused to take it off. It makes her look fierce.
The princess on her throne, otherwise known as the footlocker that I bought for $5 at a garage sale, painted, and re-finished and now can't bear to part with.
He wanted a swim hat too. It makes me smile.
That picture of me in my parents' bed? This is pretty darn close. She loves nothing more than to get in Grammy's bed to talk on her phone and eat snacks. The blanket? Made by Granny Bea--one of many quilts that continue to hug our family long after she departed.
A princess gets her hair fixed at the same vanity that I bellied up to for nearly my entire childhood.
"Mommy! Can you change the sheets? I got lotion!" Someday, I'll be astonished that the lamp in the background has survived 30 years. I love that crazy lamp. It will not be going anywhere.
It snowed! We made a snowman!
Let's hope she gets better at keeping her pants on.
And finally, this is how we celebrated Dr. Suess's birthday.
I write a lot about little moments and appreciation for the little things. I've learned a lot in the past 6 months. I've soul searched. I've hidden. And, I've come out of the shadows. Some days, I'm the mom with the fancy camera and the beautiful portraits. But these, these are the pictures that I hope will make the favorites list for my little ones. Those little everydays that could so easily be forgotten.
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