Summer Evening

If you are a professional photographer, or even one who is better than I am, please don't read this post. This information is strictly for those of my buddies who are where I am, photographically speaking: you just want to take a dang better picture of your kid! I have minimal knowledge of all things camera-related...I don't use full manual on my Canon Rebel but I can modify the semi-manual settings a bit. Moving on...

Clearly, I take a lot of pictures of my kids. A LOT. Always have, even before I had my nice camera. In fact, with my little Canon Power Shot that my mom and stepdad bought me three Christmases ago, I took over 10,000 pictures. A LOT of pictures, people. That doesn't mean I'm any good at photography, it just means my index finger works really well :) I also don't have any photo editing software, other than the iPhoto tools that came on my Mac. In an ideal world I would have Photoshop and learn how to use it, but in this world I live in, called "Good night,  I have four kids and there is no way I can home school and indulge myself in learning the glorious wonders of Photoshop," I have to be content with what I have.

I know that good photography is all about good lighting, and here are a few examples of pictures I took the other evening that show both good and bad light. I do not use a flash on my camera, ever, and that results in really fantastic shots (I think) when the light is good and absolutely nothing worth looking at when the light is bad. Hopefully my skills will improve and I can take more consistent shots. But for right now, I am perfectly happy with the pictures I take and I guess that's what counts in the end.

Here's a picture I took of Tiny, on the swing. Note that her eyes are dark, there are heavy shadows on her face, and it's just not a bright picture. The sun is behind her, shining on my face, not hers. Wrong!

MOS climbed up on the swingset above Tiny and began hooting. She looked up at him and I snapped this pic. Wow! To me this picture is way better: the light is hitting her face, her eyes are bright and blue, her skin looks great...in short, the light totally transformed what was an otherwise not very good pic. I didn't move to get this image; Tiny simply looked up and turned her head and the light was instantly better. Photography is fascinating, isn't it? 

Yes, MOS is fairly grumpy in this pic, but I wanted to use it to show the lack of light. The sun was setting behind him, so the shadows on his face are pretty dark. 

Then I had him get on the swing, which made him happier, and he turned his face towards me, which brightened everything up considerably. For me, I like pictures that highlight the subject's eyes; if the eyes aren't bright and illuminated, then I'm not happy with the image. But it's really hard to do, especially for someone as untrained as I am. 

Then GG1 posed for me; again, I was unhappy with the light because I thought her face looked a bit flat and her eyes weren't bright. I know all or most of these problems can be fixed in photo editing programs but again, I ain't got 'em and if I did, I probably wouldn't use 'em 'cause I ain't got the time. 

So to fix the light problem, I moved in front of GG1, with the sun behind me, hitting her face. Much better. Even with the low light cast by the setting sun, I was pleased with this shot. I know she's chewing her nails, but hey, that's what this kid does all the time anyway so I just went with it. 

And finally it was GG2's turn. Fortunately for her, I had already figured out a good angle for the light to hit her face and also, this child does not take a bad picture. Seriously. I told her to look thoughtful. I think she nailed it, don't you? This picture was a little dark, so for the next one I moved just a tiny bit to let more light hit her face.

I said, "Blow Mama a kiss, baby!" Mwah! Love ya! But I like the light in her eyes and her skin tone looks pretty, especially since I moved a bit and the light was better.

And then I wanted to take a picture of her missing tooth, or at least her new gap, but the first few snaps were just dark and unappealing. So I maneuvered down in front of her with the sun's last puny rays hitting her face. I think she looks nice, her eyes are clear, no weird shadows, and you can clearly see her new gap, of which she is ever so proud.

Hope these few examples might illuminate (ha ha get it?) a bit about light and your photographs. It is always so interesting to me to take pictures at different times of day in the same places in my yard and note how wildly contrasting the images are. For instance, I have learned that high noon in the front yard is the ugliest picture I will ever take, but sunset on the swingset (sounds like a movie) is a great location for nice pictures. How about you, amateur photographer buddies? How's it going with you and capturing light? Again, all of my friends who are either professionals or just about pros, refrain from mocking me openly. And feel free to leave tips! I need all the help I can get!

The Good Old Days

The other day I took all four of my kids to the doctor. The younger two were sick and as moms of lots of kids know, where you go, all of the kids go, too. So I endured the duress that is an hour in the doctor's office with four children, got prescriptions for the two that were ill, and was struggling to get them into the van in the parking lot. Struggling because I had to change the baby's diaper and MOS wouldn't stay in his seat but kept leaping around and I had already started the car so that no one died of heat stroke and so I didn't want him loose in the car since he might put it in gear and kill us all but he wouldn't sit and I was so tired and hot and sweaty because I was in the parking lot while the baby's bottom I was changing was in the car. However, GG1 and GG2 were sitting quietly in their seats, observing the chaos.

I finally got the baby changed, stuffed into her seat, and corralled MOS into his seat. I climbed in and sat sweating quietly for just a minute before I put the car into gear and drove to the pharmacy. And that's when I saw THEM. The couple of my dreams. The husband was carrying the baby bucket and the wife was carrying the diaper bag. The baby bucket is that car seat thing that some parents tote their babies around in; I could never walk and carry one of those, so I used a sling for my babies. The wife's eyes were shadowed and her hair was in a greasy pony tail; she had on a T shirt and yoga pants. The husband's hair stuck up at wild angles and he wore a T shirt and wrinkled khaki pants. They stopped to confer for a moment behind their car, a relatively new, sensible four door sedan.

My heart almost pitter pattered in my chest, I was so filled with excitement. Because this couple that I was stalking? This perfect, lovely, wonderful, wrinkly, exhausted couple? They were brand new parents, bringing their baby to his six-week check up. And how do I know that's what they were? Because after the negotiation, the wife hitched up her yoga pants, which were probably too big now that she had lost twenty five pounds in the last six weeks, pushed a few straggly hairs back off her forehead, and got in the front seat, but only after maneuvering her giant diaper bag which most likely weighed more than the baby bucket. And the husband, are you ready for this, opened the back door, wedged the baby bucket into the middle of the back seat onto its baby bucket base, and then, wait for it, wait for it, got into the back seat with the baby and shut the door! I die, people, I die.

Remember well, oh, how I remember well. That first trip to the doctor's office? I put GG1 into a hand-smocked gown with matching booties, diaper cover, and an heirloom blanket.  GH took the day off from work. I put on makeup and struggled to button a pair of pre-maternity pants, only admitting defeat when I nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. The trip to the doctor was an AFFAIR, a huge to-do, and we even took pictures before we went. I most definitely rode in the backseat there and back with the baby, cooing, fussing, fidgeting, wiping, blotting, and just generally making a large issue over the baby. We both went into the exam room, hovering, nervous, undressing the baby layer by layer but covering the exposed parts with the blanket, one of us at the ready with the pacifier in case she cried. I remember we refused to let the nurse take her temperature rectally because of the risk of bowel puncture; she rolled her eyes and got her superior who told her loudly in the hall to just take the temp under the arm and not give the parents any grief. When the doctor came in we both stood up, me clutching GG1 tightly, reluctant to hand her over to this doctor who might not know to support the baby's neck and bottom simultaneously. We were, in short, NEW PARENTS.

And that is what that precious couple in the parking lot were: adorable and brand new and I loved them so much it was all I could do to not hail them as they left and scream through their closed windows: "Enjoy this! You are wonderful parents! Enjoy this baby because he'll be a toddler before you know it! You're doing a great job and I love you!"

But I didn't because they were under enough pressure as it was, taking their brand new son to the doctor for the first time. Probably the first time they took him out in public, and the last thing they needed was some sweaty crazed woman yelling at them in the parking lot. I wonder if sometimes, when I don't realize it, there's an older woman stalking me in a parking lot, watching with misty eyes as I hold the baby on one hip, MOS's hand with the other, and my two big girls hold hands while one of them holds my shirt tail. We must look a sight but I wonder if I am sparking precious memories for someone else. Perhaps there's a mom of four, her kids are grown and gone, providing her with grandchildren on a regular basis, but maybe for just a minute, when she watches me push a buggy with three children in it while the fourth lags behind a bit, if that mom doesn't feel a grip of nostalgia so strong she wants to squeeze me in the bread aisle and shout: "I love you! Enjoy these days! They don't last!"

Probably not. She's probably so damn glad to not have to shop with little kids any more that she purposefully goes down another aisle just to avoid me. But that sweet couple in the doctor's office parking lot? They are just getting started and I am so happy for them. Because those first few precious months are non-repeatable. GH didn't even go with me when I took Tiny to her first doctor's appointment; in fact, I took all four kids by myself when she was six weeks old. And the first time I took Tiny out in public? She was five days old and we went to the park; I forgot to pack her diapers and realized when we got to the park that not only had I forgotten hers, I had forgotten MOS's as well. There I was, at the park, with four kids, two of whom still wore diapers, and I had nothing. I had car keys, a cell phone, and a baby sling. That's it. Survival, baby, survival. If you mess your britches, you're riding home nekkid.

I miss those good old days; not enough to go through them again, but enough that I can get nostalgic when I see brand new parents. So here's to another few weeks of the dad riding in the back seat: pretty soon, their son will go to college. But for now, his daddy is sitting close, pacifier in one hand, burp cloth in the other, sleep-deprived eyes grittily staring at his beautiful son. I wish you the best of luck and years of happiness, new parents. I have to go now because my toddler just ate a marker.