The pictures suggest an ethereal romp through snow-caked country, rookie skiiers who are sweet and eager, smooth drives along quiet, empty roads, sisterly love in the form of icicle-hunting and driveway dance parties, hand-holding family love. But the pictures do not tell the whole story.
It is hard, and unseemly, to capture the hours of Friday traffic, the carsickness that brings fountains of vomit, the screaming baby at midnight, 1am, 2am, 3ish, 4something, 5am. Also hard to capture the mom and the dad who are good sports, but beyond tired who swill coffee and don smiles and roll with it because that’s just what you do.
But pictures are a wonderful option when it is 8:50pm on a Sunday night and you are so tired you can barely contemplate watching more than ten minutes of the Oscars which are on in the background, emitting spirited, Hollywood noises that do little to keep your eyes open.
And pictures are just plain wonderful, aren’t they? Because they allow you to look back at moments that happened yesterday and long ago, moments that were downright exquisite in their texture and color and life. Moments that were yours, and will always be yours.
It was a lovely weekend. Our kids got to ski for the very first time. We got to spend time with Husband’s cousin and his family. And we’ve forgiven the baby for our sleepless night. She is cute and we’re in love even though she can be a tricky thing sometimes. And today is a new day, isn’t it? A day full of moments to live and love and capture. A day for coffee.
And now for the pictures. Oh how they make me smile.
Do you enjoy photographing your life? How do you handle profound exhaustion? Were/are your kids good sleepers at home and on the road?