Family Photos

All of my friends post these lovely artsy photos of their families.  You know, the ones of the family running through a sunlit field or posing atop a mountain at sunset.  The ones where the whole family is in coordinating outfits and everyone looks happy and relaxed - like they could be in a commercial for orange juice or cookies or something really wholesome.  Those same friends post super cute newborn photos of their babies stuffed into buckets wearing adorable hand-crochet hats and what-not.

In a pregnancy-hormone fueled fit of insanity I decided to book a photo shoot for us to get some family shots and some of the new baby (preferably with said baby in a bucket).  I have a really nice friend at work whose equally nice wife is a great photographer.  They gave us a very good deal on pictures and all we had to do was show up and smile. I sat back and anticipated my glamorous family snapshots (oh, and the arrival of my baby).

It turns out I have no idea how anyone with an infant gets anything resembling a decent family photo.  Ever.  Our pictures were taken when Eleanor was 11 days old.  She was just ridiculously unhappy about the entire experience.  Phoebe was ... an almost 3 year old.  Jeremy and I were exhausted.

I realized the night before that I had completely neglected to purchase adorable matching outfits so I dug through our closets to find anything that even looked remotely like it went together.  This meant that we all ended up wearing sweaters even though the photographer had warned me that for newborn shoots she makes it super-hot in her house so the baby doesn't get cold.  Eleanor was still on her newborn eat-every-hour schedule so Jeremy and I got almost no sleep.  The plus side of that is we were so tired, we didn't really care that there was no time to shower. Not only did we neglect our own appearance, neither one of us realized Phoebe's hair hadn't been brushed pretty much since the arrival of her sister.

When we got to the photographer's house, Eleanor immediately melted down.  While she screamed and I tried to nurse her, Phoebe helped herself to a tour of the house and busied herself digging through the photographer's living room.  This meant that by the time we finally got Eleanor somewhat settled down, Phoebe was far too engrossed in Mr. Potato Head to even consider posing for pictures. We finally dragged her over to the backdrop but she pretty much refused to follow any instructions involving where to sit, when to smile, or to please act like a human being for EVEN ONE STINKING SECOND.

We were there forever.  Seriously, a very long time.  I stopped trying to soothe Eleanor and just stuck a pacifier in her mouth figuring the pacifier would be the least of the problems with the resulting pictures. At the end I was not confident that there would be a single shot worth salvaging.  Certainly no cute naked-baby-sleeping shots or even anything that could be used in a Craigslist ad offering a free toddler to anyone willing to take her off our hands. In the end, the photographer did what she could with Photoshop and we ended up with some cute shots.  They aren't family-frolicking-in-the-sunset pictures, but they more accurately capture the reality of our lives. In fact, I think they make us look better than we did in reality (80 degree, sweater wearing, unshowered reality).

Brief moment of baby sleep - captured!  Not naked, but she is in a basket. 

Phoebe is smiling (probably by accident)  Eleanor seems worried (she probably should be)

This one is actually cute!  Baby isn't crying!  Success!

Attempted family shot.  Guess who's not cooperating.  You can lead Phoebe to the photography studio but you can't make her smile when she gets there.

Phoebe rearranges the set.  With her baby sister in it.

No idea what is going on here, but it doesn't look good for Eleanor.

I actually really like this one.  Pacifier and all.

I think this one looks cute.  Jeremy says it makes Eleanor look like Tarzan.  We have agreed to disagree.

Us.