Picture Day

Before having my own child, I had no idea how much stress picture day could cause. When I was a (childless) teacher, I worried a little about how the picture schedule would impact my lessons and I really liked seeing the kids come to school all dressed up. But, I never considered all of the effort it took to get them looking so cute!

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I would assume that this was one of those *just me* things, but I have checked with several other moms who feel the same way. (whew) Seriously, I felt the weight of "Picture Day" from the moment the flyer came home announcing the date.

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I had to go through Sophie's clothes and figure out what would a) fit b) look nice with a "flag background" c) match her one pair of dressy shoes that still kind of fit and d) be something she would wear. Then I had to figure out what to put on her legs. Then what would go in her hair. But that meant I had to decide how I would *do* her hair. And what if it was a hot day? Or a freezing day?

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When I stopped to consider WHY I was getting myself so worked up about this, I realized it had not much at all to do with the dress she wore or how her hair was done. Rather, it was more about the perceived importance of capturing her true essence at this age, at her best, for posterity. I mean, these are the photos that get sent out to all of the relatives... that hang on walls and linger in albums for decades. A wrong move, a poor choice, bad hair could haunt her for the rest of her life. No pressure there. Never mind that if the photos were bad I could just - gasp - not order them.

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So, this is NOT what she wore for Picture Day. It's what she picked out for herself when I let her come home and change. In her defense, she couldn't reach the long pants. I convinced her to push the black socks down before we went to the library. It is a photo that happens to capture her true essence at this age. At her best? Maybe. It sure makes me smile and think "That's my girl!".

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I know that soon enough the great Picture Day decisions won't be mine alone (or at all) anymore... and I will long for this kind of stress. At any rate, we survived, she looked beautiful, and now a small burden has been lifted. I may safely move on to the next obscure, innocuous thing to obsess about.