As I scroll through my social media, I’m met with a plethora of images showcasing my children and our adventures together. There are scenic nature shots, humorous memes, and a surprising number of pictures of a certain tree I adore, all mixed with a few self-portraits that suggest I’m a bit desperate to be included in the frame.
The reality is, if I want my kids to remember that I was more than just the person who handed them toast or chased after them with a hairbrush, I often have to resort to selfies. They’re my only ticket into our family photo album, my only way to ensure that I’ll be seen as an active participant in our lives. It’s important to me to leave behind more than just the memory of a mom who frequently wiped down countertops and occasionally snuck away to devour chocolate in the bathroom.
Whenever I muster the courage to ask someone to take a family photo, the groans and eye-rolls begin. It’s as if my family members enter a competition to see who can be the biggest grump about standing still and smiling for a few seconds. I adore them, but sometimes they can be incredibly frustrating.
And so, I resort to selfies.
Here’s mom hiking with the kids, capturing a moment.
At the carousel.
In the new minivan.
At the lake.
I’m constantly with my children, yet there are hardly any images of us together unless I’m the one behind the camera. Moms typically take on the role of memory keepers, the ones insisting that we will cherish these moments together. I’m the one who planned the outings, packed the lunches, and searched for missing shoes just so we could leave the house. I’ve worked hard to create magical experiences. I deserve to be in those pictures.
Truth be told, I’m not a fan of taking selfies. I’m clumsy at it, and it often feels awkward. I’m not part of the millennial generation; I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. Should the camera angle be up, down, or sideways? Filters? I’m often just pointing my phone at my face and hoping for a decent shot.
So, please, anyone, take my picture so my kids won’t remember me as just a giant floating head in our family narrative. I want candid photos that reflect our real life together—snuggling with the kids, laughing, playing, swimming. In 20 years, I won’t care that my hair was a mess or that I had no makeup on. I’ll just be thrilled to see a real image of myself that wasn’t self-taken.
I existed in those moments. I had fun with them. I did more than just shout at them to stop changing outfits a thousand times.
I know I’m not alone in this. One day, our children will think we walked around with a phone permanently attached to our hands, pleading, “Take a picture with me! Please smile!”
Let’s pledge to take more photos of moms because, let’s face it, we aren’t great at capturing ourselves. For those interested in exploring home insemination methods, check out this informative post on artificial insemination kits. Additionally, for couples navigating their fertility journey, this resource can provide valuable insights. For further information about pregnancy and home insemination, the Cleveland Clinic is an excellent resource.
In summary, the desire to capture family moments and include mothers in the memories is vital. It’s essential to ensure that future generations see the full picture of their childhoods, filled with love, laughter, and shared experiences.
Keyphrase: Why I Want Somebody to Take My Picture
Tags: [“home insemination kit” “home insemination syringe” “self insemination”]