The majority of my life I live in a laid back state, going with the flow, with hardly any expectations whatsoever.
This is not true when I have a camera in my hands. I either miss something and wish I could get the shot back, want people out of my way, or just plain wish my kid would sit still long enough to shoot her.
This morning Bug got out her new teaset. I don’t remember who gave that to her for her birthday, but thank you if it was you. Anyway, I decided to do it up. I went and got the nicest dress I owned out of my closet, and asked her to put one on for a tea party. She said no quite a few times. There was a camera involved, so I put a dress on her anyway.
I cleared off her night stand to serve as our tea table. I lined up the cups on the tray to show her how to pour tea, and we actually played tea party and had fun for quite a while. She’s still pouring tea now, at lunch time, hours later.
When I started to take pictures, I was somewhat frustrated with the process. She wouldn’t stop moving, and I just couldn’t get any good shots. I kept at it though, because the tea party had been fun, and I have so many dreams of scrapbooking in my future.
Then I saw some gunk on the table, and thought, well that won’t do in a picture. So, I attempted to flick it off. It stuck to my finger. My first thought was, “Dear God, please let this be play-dough!”
Then the smell hit me, the smell that I thought I had gotten rid of when I threw her morning diaper away. I sniffed the squishy brown not-play-dough on my finger and knew it was poop. Not stale-popcorn, sweet-smelling, breastfed baby poop, but “what did this child have for dinner last night!?” toddler poop.
Then I found more poop. On her fingers. There went my expectations for a “perfect” tea-party. We washed our hands, while I was trying to find the balance between “Don’t ever put your hands down your diaper again,” and “Don’t worry. I still love you.”
I guess there’s no such thing as picture perfect.