You won't find me mugging for the camera or hogging the stage.
As a mom this works out pretty well. I get to be behind the scenes,
capturing the action, taking the pictures.
But I've recently been inspired to step into the picture--
in all my imperfect glory.
Last week, Ashley at Under the Sycamore wrote about getting in the shot, and I was persuaded to make a little extra effort to be seen in the record I'm making of my kids' childhoods.
Now I'm not talking about putting on lipstick and curling my hair--
we can't all wear pearls while we put our little cherubs to sleep.
(This is a photo of my great grandmother and my grandmother.)
I'm realizing that pictures of me with my kids
--even when I look a little (or a lot) undone--
are preserving precious memories that I don't want to lose.
I love the this picture (below) of my grandmother with my aunt.
There's something wonderful about seeing Gram mothering.
And it's even more endearing and real because of the crooked candles and cluttered side table.
I'm so glad my grandfather didn't wait until the counters were tidy before taking this picture.
And just for the fun of it--another picture of Gram, this time with my mother--beautiful.
Around my house the action usually goes down amid pirates and dragons and pajamas--
including my own. I know I'll want to remember this colorful chaotic mess,
and the blurry happy boy behind it.
So, I'm taking Ashley's advice.
I'm trying to embrace the crazy, disheveled reality of myself mothering.
I'm learning to set up a shot, use the self-timer and--every once in a while--step into the picture.
I'm capturing cuddles, kisses and piles of laundry.
I'm getting my hands wet,
becoming a part of the story,
bed head and all.