Lens, Life, & Trying to Survive- Family Pictures: Expectations vs. Reality

Hello there, everyone!

I wanted to take a moment to talk about something most moms truly treasure—photos of their children.. (Well… the majority of us do!)

I’ll be the first to admit—I’m totally guilty of this. I dream up the perfect scene: matching outfits, bright smiles, and those sweet, loving glances that capture just the right moment. In my mind, it’s all calm, joyful, and magical.

But then… reality hits.
The oldest is annoying the youngest.
The middle one is fidgeting like he’s got ants in his pants.
My daughter’s complaining that her brothers won’t leave her alone.

Then come the hands.
Then the arms.
Then—of course—the feet....

Why feet? Of all things to fear, I got cursed with a foot phobia — and my kids treat it like a sport. Every chance they get: sweaty toes in my face, wiggling like they’re summoning demons.

It’s like I’m living in a low-budget horror film titled “Attack of the Stank Feet.”

Somehow they all make a dramatic appearance.

Someone’s pushing.
Someone’s foot “accidentally” touches someone else.
Someone grabs the back of someone’s shirt like it’s a tug-of-war.

And there I am…
Smiling at the camera like everything is totally fine.
(It’s fine. It’s all fine.)

I just want one good picture of us.
Just one.
One where we all look like we’re getting along,
smiling at the camera like we actually enjoy being related.

I know I’m not alone—this is a universal mom moment.
We’ve all been there, wrangling kids (and emotions) at photo sessions,
holding onto the hope that maybe—just maybe—this will be the one.

And let’s not forget Dad…
standing off to the side,
wondering aloud if we’re done yet,
asking, “How many family pictures do we really need?”

(Answer: infinite. We need infinite.)

My husband, bless his heart, took on the crucial role of "button-pusher" for the session. Now, I usually roll my eyes at that phrase, but honestly, he really just stood there and clicked! I did all the heavy lifting—striking poses, fiddling with camera settings, while he stood ready to push the magic button. Let me tell you, he had quite the mission ahead of him! 

I strolled into this session with my optimism meter set to max! But then, my two youngest—who are 12 and 14, by the way—decided to turn the place into their own little circus. I swear, if you heard their antics, you’d think they were toddlers! Instant chaos, and here I was trying to keep my composure. 

My children have literally grown up not only getting their own photos taken, but also watching me take photos of others. Sometimes, they even help get little kids to look at the camera or coax giggles from those who want nothing to do with photos. So why were they acting like this session was a full-blown circus adventure? I won’t lie—I was seriously annoyed with them at first. What was supposed to be a quick session was turning into an ordeal filled with mini defeats. Then it hit me. They were technically smiling... just not at the camera. They were smiling at each other as they taunted one another—smiles I’d love to capture, if only they were directed at the camera. 

I walked over, joined them, and let the chaos unfold naturally. This session ended up being so much fun. I let go of all my expectations, and we simply enjoyed the moment. There were genuine laughs and smiles. My husband captured some amazing photos—ones that will make us laugh for years to come—including a few of our cat, peacefully snoozing on a chair in my studio.

So, the next time you have a session scheduled and things don’t go exactly as planned, take a deep breath and trust your photographer. I’ve spent years navigating beautiful chaos—from wild toddlers to unpredictable moods—and I know how to find the magic in the mess.

And trust me, even as a seasoned photographer, I still get frustrated trying to wrangle the “perfect” session with my own family. But somehow, it always turns out okay.

Most importantly, try to enjoy the moment. Our little ones grow up fast, and even the imperfect, unpredictable moments are worth remembering.

-Tiff