Lynda Loveland: Posers

I came across some of my old, school photos the other day and the first thing that came to mind was, “Why in the world did my mom let me wear that?” Or, “How did she let me get my picture taken with my hair looking like that?”

I vowed I would do my absolute best to make sure my kids don’t have the same reaction. I would make Campbell actually comb her hair. Caiden would have to wear a collared shirt and Carys needed a bow in her hair. Boy, was I an idiot.

They hated it! It’s not who they were and we always fought over it. What I realized is, it’s their personality I want in the picture and not some contrived Gap ad. If their hair is a mess or they’re wearing a stained soccer jersey, then so be it. That’s who they are. I sorta get a kick out of looking at the pictures because I think to myself, “that’s soooo (insert offspring’s name here)." 

The same thing applies to pictures out and about. My kids never pose normally. I have two examples for you. One is from over the weekend at the restaurant Darryl’s in Greensboro.

The other one is from earlier this year, taken at the river that runs along the family farm. I was trying to take a nice picture and this is what I got. As I snapped it, Caiden got mad at Cam and stepped, no, stomped on her foot. Carys is still vogueing in the background.

These are the priceless photos. This is real life.