Halloween has passed, and I found myself feeling a bit down last night when I realized we didn’t take our little one to a pumpkin patch. It was one of the top items on my list for fall.
Then I paused to reflect on my feelings. Was I genuinely heartbroken about missing out on pumpkin picking? Nope. Was I excited about the idea of dragging my baby out for an adventure that would likely end in a delightful cup of apple cider? Maybe. But the real reason? I desperately wanted to snap a cute photo of him perched on a giant pumpkin in his adorable fall attire. Absolutely!
If I were to ask myself, “Did I do this for my child, or was it all about the photo?” I’d find too many instances where it was about the photo. It’s a tough truth, but it’s the reality I live in. My baby is just six months old and incredibly easy to please. As long as he’s fed, his diaper is fresh, and someone is making silly faces to entertain him, he’s a happy camper. He doesn’t need pumpkin patch outings or clever onesies, but I do. I crave those moments for the pictures.
Honestly, I often create scenarios based on the perfect photo opportunity. With my trusty smartphone in hand, I’m ready to capture every fleeting moment—even if it’s slightly staged. I can’t count the times I’ve taken a shot, analyzed it, and then retaken it after eliminating an unsightly booger from his nose. I might even crop out my messy bed or adjust the brightness to enhance the color of his eyes. And for what? I don’t even share these images on social media, thanks to my husband’s request to keep them private.
Looking through my parents’ photo albums, I’d probably find only a couple of dozen pictures of me from birth to six months, and that’s being generous. Meanwhile, I capture about two dozen photos of my baby every week, and if the moment is particularly joyful, I might shoot that many in a single day.
The few baby photos from my childhood are genuine—grainy, unposed, with food stains on my clothes, and a pacifier often in sight. They tell an authentic story, and their scarcity adds to their charm. In contrast, if my son tried to memorize all the pictures I’ve taken of him so far, it would be overwhelming!
With my phone always at my fingertips, snapping pictures has seamlessly integrated into our daily routine. Change him into his outfit? Snap a photo. Feed him pureed squash? Snap a photo. Put him in his car seat and play with his toes? Snap a photo. Blow raspberries on his belly before bath time? You guessed it—snap a photo.
I feel a mix of delight and dismay at the sheer volume of photos I have of him already. When does the quest for that perfect Pinterest-worthy shot overshadow the simple joy of just being with my baby—boogers and all?
Fortunately, my husband reminded me that we still have the chance to visit a pumpkin patch. There’s no rule against picking pumpkins after Halloween, so perhaps we’ll get to make that memory after all. And maybe—I’ll leave my phone in the car.
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In summary, while capturing moments of my baby has become a routine part of parenting, I’m beginning to recognize the need to balance that with simply enjoying our time together. There’s beauty in the unplanned and the imperfect, and I want to embrace that more fully.