July 9 18

One of the things that makes me a good great family photographer is my ability to get down to kids’ levels, both figuratively and actually. I am not above a good bum or fart or poop joke. And I have been known to make silly faces and noises whilst dancing or flossing or dabbing poorly to get the perfect shot of a kid laughing.

Here’s the thing about photography, though. Parents {all parents} want to take family photos because — thankfully — they see the value in capturing their families at a specific date and time. Parents {all parents} come to shoots with their babies and toddlers and pre-tweens and tweens and teens and adult children dressed in their fanciest best or in their most comfortable comfortables or in their matchiest matches wanting to capture their shiny, happy children looking at the camera being shiny and happy.

Only.

For children {all children}, standing next to siblings, listening to a strange small person with a giant camera tell them that they have to both look and smile at the huge camera is very awkward and weird. But because I am also awkward and weird, I am great at photoshoots.

It also helps that many kids assume that I *am* a kid due to my, um, height challenges.

There was that time in the Wisconsin Dells when a boy thought I was a kid.

There was also that one time at my kids’ swimming lessons when a sibling who was dragged along to watch swimming lessons assumed that I was also a dragged sibling.

There is also an adorable little almost first grader who once suggested that I ask my dad if I could have a playdate with him. When I asked him who he thought my dad was, he pointed with confidence at Gav Martell.

If someone were to ask me what my strengths are, just under “Makes really incredible chocolate chip cookies” and just above “Can re-eneact the entire movie Annie from start to finish,” I’d put “Really good with kids.” I like kids. Actually, no. I love them. I think they are the most interesting humans. I love to ask them questions. I love to patiently listen to their long and winded stories.

On Sunday afternoon, I met three adorable ones in the park for a summer mini. These three, you guys. They were so awesome. We talked about swimming and summer and camp and going into first grade and babies. They weren’t so into it, though, when I asked them to sit on the ground in the middle of the forest. There were wood chips and branches and, well, dirt. Oh dirt. I find that kids love to get a little dirty except when you want them to get a little dirty. So, naturally, I told them that I was going to sit on the ground too.

So I sat down on the ground.

In dog poop.

Guess who thought it was hilarious?

{I’ll give you three guesses.} 

I’m the poop joke now, it seems.

 

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  1. Hahahaha! Sorry, that sucks and also is amazing.

    [Reply]

    Comment by Kristabella on July 10, 2018
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