Picture People (No Relation to The Picture People, Inc.)

We’re horrible parents. We never had 12-month pictures taken of the boys. While other, responsible parents would’ve had the date at the photographers booked weeks in advance, we were too absorbed in the holidays to bother looking up from our dinners and presents to call for an appointment. I blame their status as second (and third) born children, meaning we already went through 12-month pictures with Abbie.* I also blame society.

Ellie took the initiative to correct our glaring oversight, calling the photographer for 15-month pictures for the boys, 27-month pictures for Abbie, and Valentine’s Day pictures for our relatives. She called the same mall-based department store photography studio we’ve taken our kids to for all previous photographs. We trust their professionals to eternally capture our children’s beauty on film, plus we bought their membership and I didn’t want to waste money on a sitting fee for any other photographer.

Ellie called yesterday morning to arrange the session for the soonest available time, which turned out to be that night. Apparently the 6:30pm Monday shift is ordinarily an open slot. To prepare for the quick turnaround, she rushed home during her lunch break to pick out the nicest clothes in their wardrobe that weren’t in the laundry room or permanently stained by spaghetti sauce. I helped by stuffing them full of supper later that night, and packing them into the car in spite of colons that could blow their post-meal load at any second. We walked into the photography studio a little late at about 6:35, but I think anytime we get the first two digits of the time correct, we’re doing well.

Their last photography appointment was six months ago, when the boys were still mastering the crawl. They could escape back then, but they were slow enough that I had time to pull Abbie’s hands away from the camera before grabbing a boy on his way out the doorway. Now they can walk, forcing me to move faster to catch them, and creating the possibility that they could toddle out of the shot at a moment’s notice.

Fortunately, Abbie no longer seemed interested in grabbing the camera. Instead, she focused her attention on the rubber duck props in the room. The small rubber duck especially captivated her as the photographer would place it on her head, sneeze, and let it fall to the ground with a “kerchoo,” ideally making the children laugh. The boys didn’t care about the trick, but Abbie kept swiping the duck to place on her own head and let fall to the ground with a “kerchoo,” although her speech-delayed sound came out as more of a “eee.”

The photographer requires at least six poses in a session. We collected shots of each child individually, an ensemble shot of the kids, a shot of the boys, and a silly shot of Abbie kissing the duck since we couldn’t get it out of her hands anyway. We opted to keep the parents out of the shots since we didn’t have time to clean up ourselves, and Gymboree doesn’t make clothes in our size** to wear anyway. Plus, while tracking the kids every three months as they age is cute, tracking the parents as the kids age us every three months is depressing.

The kids were remarkably good during the shoot. There was little screaming, though as a dad I could find little behaviors to nitpick. Abbie wouldn’t leave her hands and feet in position. Tory kept trying to wander. Ian refused to smile, not even at the falling duck. The photographer complimented their behavior at the end, and told us she remembered photographing them earlier. That means our twins are memorable to work with, or they screamed hard enough at the last shoot to inflict months-long trauma on the photographer.

After the shoot, I packed up the kids into the stroller to take them to the mall playground, while Ellie sat through the sales pitch where they make sepia-toned portraits sound like a good thing. Except Abbie didn’t want to leave. They had a table with bead toys in the waiting room, and she was too captivated to walk away. I unpacked the boys to let them wander as they desired. They played at the table for a while, huddling in a corner where Abbie tolerated their presence. They wandered to the television and the registers. They climbed on the kid-sized chairs and did a tap dance routine while they held onto the chair back and I marveled at my parenting skills.

When the boys started wandering out the exit, I knew it was time to leave. Ellie was still refusing various portrait collages, so I knew we had plenty of time left at the playground. I told Abbie we had to leave and she grudgingly followed, but not before giving the ducks a final kiss.

* As well as 3-month, 6-month, 9-month, 18-month, and 24-month pictures.
** 25T