So many years ago when I started taking photos of other people’s kids, I never expected to love it like I do. I never expected it to have the affect on me that it does.
I went 10 months without working this past year. And I told myself over and over. It’s not the end of the world. It’s just pictures. Not a big deal.
Turns out. It was a big deal.
The thing is, at the end of this crazy crazy crazy year…… it’s not just pictures. At all. It’s friendships. It’s an hour of catching up without a cup of coffee. It’s seeing subtle changes in kids or REALLY big ones (that has been the case more often than not for me) It’s getting teary eyed over how different they are because they are “my” kids. (I literally call all of you mine….because that’s how I feel)
The oldest was the first baby I ever took photos of. He was three months old when I met him. He couldn’t sit up, so we propped him up against him moms legs. His parents were new to the game of parenting (so was I, just a little farther ahead of them) and now look at him. In a suit. And I have no doubt that he will move the world. I got teary when I saw them. And full blown cried when their mom thanked me publicly for the photos. Because… over the years, even if it’s only once a year, I know their personalities. I know the oldest is the biggest ham. I know the middle one absolutely despises photos, and for him to smile is a really really big deal. And I know the little one… well she’s a pistol and we all chase after her while she giggles!
I guess my point is…. my job, means a lot to me. What I do is exhausting this time of year. But it means the world to me to know that it is important for other people too.
