I take my camera most everywhere, these days. Important outings, 'unimportant' ones. I admit that I'm terrified to miss a moment, gone forever, not captured.
I know, I know ...
Something that having children makes you realize, though, is that every single moment is important. If you think about that for more than a second, it suddenly becomes incredibly high-pressure. Terrifying, really. Those uninvited words creep into your mind: If you didn't take a picture, it didn't really happen.
If you were there, it happened. It happened for your children, and it happened for the family and friends who shared that time with you.
I like taking photographs. I like having something semi-tangible to help me remember. I want to be in the picture with Maile. But I also want to be in the moment -- to live outside of likes and comments and hits on our family's time together.
It's strange to me how critical some people are of bloggers, accusing us of only share the beautiful and the good ... accusing us of being inauthentic, really. I think the great majority of us try to strike a balance between a pretty space and 'keeping it real'. For me, though, those things I choose not to share here, I don't share because those things are just for me. For our family. Sacred, if you will. Our messiest messes, and even some of our greatest joys -- those things are in my heart and my mind, and yes, in photographs. Moments, gone forever, meant only for us.