This year I was open to being sold a picture of the kids (normally, we just sit for the directory and that's it). I don't have one with all seven (obviously!) and I happen to have a nice spot on my wall where I would love one. So, it was with high hopes--yet realistic expectations--that we entered for our sitting.
We chose the time slot right before Natalie's baptism so we wouldn't have to dress up twice (good thinking, eh?). I warned the photographer about Isabella (have I mentioned before on this blog that our sweet daughter actually has two personalities and can switch on you at any moment?) and he assured me that he was a professional and that kids like her didn't scare him. I raised my eyebrows at that one, but he was so very confident that he could handle her that I decided to let him.
At first, it went very well. Isabella was happy to sit on my lap and giggled prettily along with the older five children every time his SpongeBob puppet made a tooting noise behind the camera. A classy bunch, my kids.
As soon as Jay and I were removed for my requested "kids only" portrait, however, things went south very quickly. She refused to sit without me, screamed and beat her fists and fell down on the floor in a classic limp noodle move. None of the other kids could hold her and the frustrated photographer finally gave up and started taking photos with just the cooperative six. I let him know pretty quickly that I was not going to purchase as my "big deal" picture a shot that did not include Isabella, so he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and got double busy with SpongeBob. To no avail.
Finally, we had to do exactly what we did in our Christmas photo (see below). Jay had to lay down on the studio floor and hold her up from the bottom while she screamed. The photographer looked as if he really wanted to find himself another job.
But you know what? We got what is sure to be my all time favorite photo of the kids: Isabella is hoisted up by an invisible hand, face contorted into a scream, and every older child is looking at her and laughing. Real belly laughs, not silly "for the camera" grins. I loved it and promptly bought a 20x30 for my wall (to Jay's utter horror, although he, too, loved the picture).
The best part of this whole experience, however, came later. Our friends, who have four children 7 and under, went in for their portrait sitting later that day. Their 1 year old daughter was fussing and they apologized to the photographer who said, "Oh, she's nothing. You should have seen the family that was in here earlier today. Now THAT girl was a piece of work!"
That's my girl!
The Di Silvestri Children, Christmas 2008
3 comments:
Good to know I am not the only one afraid of having a family portrait done. My parents waited until I was 11 to get one. The second pic they got of all seven of us I was pregnant with Anastasia and 36. We won a portrait sitting at the golf tourny this year and will try for a picture sometime early summer with our six. You will have a great laugh everytime you look at your wall.
Oh, Suz, too funny. And, Isabella sounds just like our Kate. She'll do just fine if I'm taking the picture, even give us those cheesy grins. But, FORGET going to a studio. She screams just walking in the place! It is getting slightly better with age (bribery starts working around age 2.75, not that I need to tell you that:). For a cookie, I got her to stop screaming last July - but the picture is still a pouting face looking down and away from the camera. I bought that one:) I feel for you, but I'm really glad you got the perfect shot!! xxoo Renee Bertenthal (I think there is more than one Renee that comments, hence the last name).
With a slightly evil laugh, I have to say finally you are walking in my shoes with a a child that some may call "live wire", "spirited", "very energetic", "precarious"--whatever the term, I have seemed to give birth to five of them and wondered if anyone would ever understand what it's like...we now share this and are still so thankful for our little gifts!
Never a dull moment!
Luv ya!
Post a Comment