It’s that time of the year again. It’s picture day for my guys. It is becoming tradition that around the first of November, I book a sitting to document another year passed. I figure early November is a good point as it’s a couple weeks after Full Speed’s birthday and a few weeks before T.Puzzle’s. This also gives us ample time to order extra photos for holiday gifts. Mad Dog surprised me and was game to make it a family photo op as well. He made a good point that both our boys had new glasses and it would be nice to commemorate that. Full Speed’s changed because of surgery and T.Puzzle’s changed because he could finally read letters and be tested accurately (turns out he was farsighted even though under anesthesia he measured nearsighted; that’s another blog for another day).
I made an appointment at the hair salon to get my hair washed and blown out for early in the morning. Why does it look so much better to have a professional do something as simple as blow dry your hair? That means I had to have everything laid out for Mad Dog to get the boys ready for pictures. He was even going to shower them. They needed it (especially T.Puzzle!).
For any Moms out there who have ever coordinated a family portrait, enormous planning goes into it. To have everyone matching but not too matchy, and clean, pressed and smiling is nothing short of miraculous.
Overall, the boys had their smiling moments and their not-so-smiling moments. They hugged, they fought, they fell over in a big, wrestly heap. Inevitably the woman who was assisting the photographer turns to me and says, “You certainly have your hands full, don’t you?” If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard this exact sentence from the public at large I would be a gazillionaire. For years this has aggravated me to the depths of my soul. Why? That’s because it’s like stating the obvious. It’s like saying the sky is up and no matter how hard you try, my dear, you will never be Sarah Jessica Parker (I know, I know, I don’t even own a pair of Manolos or Jimmy Choos).
I’m changing my tune. My new response? A deep breath, a pause and this thought: full hands means a full heart.