Okay, I remember now, being a photographer really does rock.

This January one my favorite clients, a family I have been photographing since 2007, contacted me to create a gallery from all of their sessions for their new playroom wall. I couldn’t wait to take on this project. I knew it would turn into a wall of joy because that is who they are as a family and that is what I have captured for them over the years. What I didn’t know is how much this project would affect me.

I’ve been doing this job since 2002. When I started (with film) being a photographer was a pretty awesome and novel thing. I was the only photographer that most people I met knew of. My grandfather and great-grandfather were both photographers; the kind that learned their craft over many years and in an old-fashioned darkroom. I was proud of my job. I worked for many years, read a hundred books, spent thousands of dollars on film and took classes to learn my craft. Things have changed. In the last five years it seems that rather than hearing “Oh, you’re a professional photographer? That’s so cool!” when I meet someone, I hear “Oh, my sister, cousin, grandma, neighbor and wife are all professional photographers.”  Neat-o. Not. Of course, what someone considers a professional in the world of photography is 100% subjective and skill and quality run the gamut. None-the-less, I am not going to lie, it gets me down. I don’t want to be just another fill-in-the-blank-blah.

As I dug through my old files (I had to find the 2007 session on a DVD, ha! Now that is old) and hard-drives something happened for me. I had just captured this family in November, so their faces were fresh in my mind. What I saw in those old photos nearly made me cry. I saw a young husband and wife holding their new little son; a family that had just been born.  I saw joy as their second son was kissed and snuggled by his toddler brother. I saw a tired but happy couple, arms filled with busy, active, growing boys that could barely be contained.  I saw them all gather around a tiny baby girl as this young family expanded to five.  I saw the happiness and the wonder of that first baby boy, now nearly five years old, as he jumped so high on the bed, the so-grown-up little brother with a great smile and soft kisses for his baby sister, the only girl, nearly walking now, looking so much like each of her brothers in turn. As I drew those photos together into a gallery a few thoughts filled my heart:

1.  I am given an amazing privilege to be invited into the lives of families. I mean, really; wow.

2. No one else, no other photographer, no matter how expensive or cheap or talented or not, would have captured that family in the same way. No one else could  have captured that family with my eye and my heart and my style.

3. People who take the time and spend the money to get their family photographed regularly end up with an amazing collection that is priceless in every way. A designer couch will be junk in five years (especially with kids). A collection of amazing photos will bring you joy throughout your lifetime. They are the lucky. . . ahem, wise . . . ones!

4. Life with kids is fleeting. Really. Look at these photos; just “last week” they held their first baby and now he’s registering for Kindergarten! I know it is hard for these clients of mine, deep in the trenches of parenthood, to grasp how fast it goes when they have one, two, three (or four or five) children hanging off them, monopolizing their time, their money, the real estate in the family bed. It is my hope, none-the-less, that they will somehow remember to savor it, if just a little, and to soak it all up as best they can.

5. Perhaps the photos I capture will help them do that. Maybe I am making a difference with my photographs, my eye and my heart. I think I am, actually.

So, after today, I am going to stop caring about how many “professional” photographers there are in the world, in my town, on my street, and I am going to remember that there are a whole lot of beautiful families that have allowed me (and will continue to) to be the one to help them remember and that I am doing something great, one photo, one amazing gallery of joy, and one family, at a time.

*Recently one blogging mom with three young kids hanging off of her wrote in her article in the Huffington Post; Parents titled Don’t Carpe Diem about how annoying it is to hear from older mothers that she should “Enjoy every moment because it’s over before you know it.”  While I totally get what she is saying, I am one of those people who wants to shout it out  to all parents with young kids (with one modification: Savor the special moments, because, let’s be real, I don’t really savor the memory of being vomited on or my six month old throwing four jars of baby food on the supermarket floor just to see what would happen or my two and three year olds drawing a race track from one end of the hall to the other with a sharpie. Wait . . .  that’s not true, now that it’s all over I actually do kind of savor those memories . Darn, I’m an old lady with her hand on her heart!

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