I’m here to tell you about a major revelation I had during this week of solo parenting all over Central Texas.

As a professional documentary photographer, I lugged my 600-pound pro Nikon along with me everywhere we went, determined to make great photos that reflect the realities of our “week full of adventures.”

BUT I FORGOT SOMETHING CRITICAL. When you are your own family’s photographer, there’s something important missing. YOU.

Now, stick with me – this point is actually a bit less obvious than it sounds . . .

A CHALLENGE: picture yourself five or ten years down the road. What aspect of today's family life will you miss the most? Is it a ritual? A character trait? An action? A feeling?

At the end of last year, I met Jordan and her family. She needed quick holiday card photos, so we set up a casual downtown session in time for her to print her cards.

Let’s just go ahead and discuss the elephant in the room: MONEY. Money is a factor, right? We get tempted, then feel guilty about spending on something that isn’t a necessity. Some things vary so much in price that it’s hard to even figure out whether the particular one you want is “worth it.” And when it comes time for family photos, we may wind up hiring that mom down the street who’s recently picked up photography and offers what seems like a really good deal.

But is it?

Torn: that's how you're feeling, right?

ON THE ONE HAND: What could be better than a rich, intimate collection of photos that get at the essence of what your family's right now feels like.

ON THE OTHER HAND: Is it really worth it? Will the photos reflect our reality in a way that you'll LOVE?

Raise your hand if you’ve ever booked a photo session with a photographer who seems to make families look radiant, golden, and straight out of a fairy tale.  Then the day of your session rolls around, and you’re going crazy trying to get the kids dressed, bribing them to behave, begging your spouse to have a good attitude and go along with it, and sequestering yourself in your bedroom for some quick deep breathing exercises so you can be the chill, easygoing parent you always thought you were. 

There are times – for sure – that the mess is the point.

Yes, often it involves mud. Or paint. But sometimes, the ordinary mess of real life is independently funny, interesting, or otherwise important. And even though it’s annoying, I often remind myself that someday I’ll miss the mess of life with kids.

Take this photo of my husband and his glorious booty shorts, “organizing” the garage while the children sit in a pile of dirt and leaves reading dusty, cracked books: