|Jake as a little guy at Disneyland late at night|
Then we got a digital camera, a nice one.
and we started all over again. And we figured out that it wasn't just about the latest technology, or spending the most money, or getting leg cramps, or making sure Jake's shirt was clean.
|preschool graduation day|
|Lucy was still being talked about in weeks in this photo|
We don't really have those moments. My sister is a photographer by trade, my husband has captured amazing pictures, and many of the rest of the family are prolific in our clicking so as to produce at least some good shots if only by the grace of statistics...and still we cannot capture him. When we do get a shot, it is never with a straight on look. I just do not ever get to really look at my own son. Not since he was an infant, when, as irony often deposits itself into my life, my son demanded constant eye contact or he would fuss and fuss; he was so intense, and I would just stare at him for hours.
|Jake at Dream Machines|
I told him I wanted to take his picture and he started to laugh, and put his hands out in front of him, so I put myself to the side and just put the camera near him, which was funnier to him, but harder for him to avoid.
|Jake thinks I am hilarious|
So perhaps there's another dynamic I hadn't thought of before, one that isn't so tragic and dramatic. Perhaps Jake just doesn't want his picture taken and is being a pain in the but like any kid who doesn't want to make a nice smile or stand still or wipe their face for a photo. Maybe he is just different than Lucy in a very normal way. She is a dancer, an orator; she poses, and waits for the shot. Maybe it's okay that he watches, and laughs, but keeps his distance from center stage.