Jess says to me the other day, "Are we gonna pay $200 for senior pictures or are you gonna take them?" What the heck is the POINT of senior pictures, first of all? I never did get it. I never had them done in high school because I thought it was dumb, even back then.
Knowing there was no way I'd pay money for someone to take lame photos, I packed up the kids (2 willingly, 1 by force) and took them to Karel Park for some frisbee golf and a practice photo shoot.
We all suck at frisbee golf, especially me and Kaylee. We look like a Special Olympics team! I never learned the art of throwing one. Ethan enjoyed clowning around and trying to kick it in.
This is my youngest child. She used to love having her photo taken but now I have to knock her unconscious first. Thank goodness she's not yet too old for slides, swings, and merry-go-rounds. I dread the day.
Can you feel the sibling love? No, Ethan isn't constipated. He just hates having his picture taken and hates being touched.
He hates me for this. He really does.
This photo captures Jess perfectly. This is who she is. THIS may just be the perfect senior portrait for her. I hate portraits because they don't usually capture one's personality.
This one is so her, too. She doesn't care what anyone thinks. You're never too old for the plastic park swings, not even when you're almost 17! Wait, almost 17?? What the HECK? How did this happen? I'm so OLD. Never mind, that's a story for another time.
Isn't she beautiful? She cleans up nice when she's not wearing mismatched gym shorts and t-shirts! (Now if only that dress were a couple inches longer so she'd stop flashing her stuff every time she bends over....I pick my battles. Who even wears a mini-dress to go play frisbee golf, anyway??)
She is such a pain! She kept saying, "But I don't know what to do with my hands! I don't know where to look or how to stand!" I guess I need some lessons on posing my subjects.
This was Ethan, right before he began demanding a large Blizzard for all his "cooperation" (I use that term very loosely).
This was taken seconds before I realized I lost my keys out of my backpack. The sun was setting, we had no flashlights, the mosquitoes were eating us alive, Ethan was starving, and I had no keys. The spare set was with Frank, who was over an hour away at work. Panicked, I told everyone to split up. Ethan took that to mean he should head toward the truck and wait on us. Thank goodness Kaylee had eagle eyes and spotted them shortly after!
Things I learned:
1. Never stick your keys in the velcro pouch of your awesome Canon backpack your husband got you for Christmas while you play frisbee golf. They could fall out somewhere in the park and you might not notice until dusk.
2. My children are all a pain in the butt when it comes to the camera. They are horrible practice subjects. I need a blow up doll or something (for practicing portraits! GEEZ, get your minds out of the gutter.)
3. My son believes the "Joker" should be tortured, shocked in a pool then drowned, shot in the face, and hanged for shooting those people in the movie theater and ruining not only their lives but their families lives as well. He also believes it is ridiculous to blame it on "mental illness" and make excuses for murder. I'm glad to see him finally start deep thinking and trying to figure out what his beliefs are. That's my boy!
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