
What you don't see in this series of photos of Ben is that on the other side of this photo is me, jumping up and down in bare feet, trying to make faces, yelling Stay on the paper! Put that down! Don't put that in your mouth! Ben! Look up here! Stay on the paper!!!
What you don't see is the terrible sleep we had the night before, how Ben cried at 2 am, yet even after I fed him he still cried on and off for several hours more. One of those nights when I needed sleep so badly and just couldn't take it anymore... I had no gentleness left. I put in earplugs and put my husband on duty.
What you don't see is Matt playing guitar sweetly for Ben next to me so that he stops and stares in wonder at the strings, the sounds, at his magical dada.
You don't see the meltdowns between shots, the pulling of the little girl's barette, the obsession with putting his finger in other kids' mouths, the crying over wanting to take the toys home, how we bribed him with grapes, the battle over putting the apple that was really a pencil sharpener in his mouth.
This is the magic of photography. And the magic of editing your photos to look back on years from now. They only tell the story you want to tell... And even though they don't always have the gory details, there is something just as true about them. The sweetness in Ben's face, his pure joy at holding a ukulele, the sparkle in his eye... all true.
But the challenge I want to pose this week is actually about those gory details. I want to see the mess, the dirt, the chaos. Give me your real life stuff.