I’m That Mom Who Takes Way Too Many Photos of Her Kids

home insemination Kit

Updated: April 22, 2021
Originally Published: May 8, 2016

Today was the first truly gorgeous spring day we’ve had, so I took my 3-year-old, Max, to the park. He was a whirlwind, his messy blond hair dancing in the breeze as he dashed around. He leaped from step to step, clambered up the slide, bumped into other kids, perched at the top of the ladder, and then tumbled into my waiting arms.

And there I was, glued to my phone, snapping away. I must have taken about 50 pictures. Something about today made me feel an urgent need to capture every moment.

My little guy, 3 years, 6 months, and 5 days old. His hair just the right length, with that one stubborn strand falling into his eyes. That blue sweater—once worn by his older brother—that’s already snug, with a long green shirt peeking out beneath it. The way he spun around every minute to look for me, those big blue-green eyes wide with excitement, certain I was nearby but not quite sure where.

I had to document it all, preserve these fleeting moments.

For our kids, time seems to stretch infinitely. They live in the here and now, and each day feels like an eternity. As parents, we feel that drag, especially during the challenging times, but we’re also acutely aware of how quickly they grow up right before our eyes.

So I photograph him, trying to hold onto these moments, even as they slip away. Not every day is this photo-obsessive, but I do take a lot of pictures, especially when we’re out. I sometimes wonder: Am I missing the experience by hiding behind the camera?

My dad was a professional photographer when I was a child, and he loved to capture my sister and me. I recall posing for him in front of giant Redwoods, holding my sister’s hand at theme parks, and frolicking at the beach. Even when I wasn’t posing, he was there, snapping candid shots, which he loved.

As much as I found it annoying at times—feeling like I was under a microscope—I also felt cherished. My dad would take breaks to play with me, a great listener, and a wonderful playmate.

Now, I treasure the countless beautiful photos of my childhood, viewed through my father’s lens. Some of those images bring tears to my eyes, encapsulating the beauty of my often chaotic upbringing, preserving the ephemeral nature of the past.

In this digital age, it’s easy to be glued to our phones, documenting every moment instead of simply enjoying life. Is my urge to record my children’s lives a problem?

I’m not convinced. I believe it’s possible to strike a balance. I can indulge in my passion for photography while also being present in the moment.

Towards the end of our park visit, Max wanted me to chase him. I relished the thrill of running after him without my phone, feeling the wind in my hair as I pursued his gleeful shouts across the playground. In that moment, I wasn’t worried about capturing anything—just being with him and soaking it all in.

But when we settled down to share a bottle of water, the urge to capture his laughter, his adorable expressions, and the delightful words tumbling from his mouth resurfaced. I didn’t want to forget any of it, though I knew it would vanish in an instant.

After a solid 20 minutes of putting my phone away, I finally pulled it out for one last shot as he sat in his stroller munching on peanuts and crackers. I thought, maybe I’m just one of those moms who’s a little overzealous today.

My kids are the most precious part of my life, and I think it’s perfectly okay for moms to be a bit nutty about it. I believe that one day, my children will appreciate all the photos I’ve taken, recognizing the beauty I saw in every gesture and the ordinary yet extraordinary moments of their childhood.

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Summary:

This article reflects on the joys and challenges of parenting, particularly the urge to capture every moment of childhood through photography. While balancing the need to document with the importance of being present, the author shares personal anecdotes about her own upbringing and the lasting value of photographs. Ultimately, it’s a celebration of the precious moments that define childhood.