What was inspiring me this week? My friends and their families. Particularly one special couple who is preparing to unleash their spawn upon the world – I mean welcome their first child! (Don’t worry, it’s funny. The mom will chuckle, I swear – unless it’s 7am, then she’ll just agree).
I was invited to do some maternity photos for them, which was pretty special as I’ve never done them before, and anytime someone asks me to take their photos it boosts my ego – I mean, shows they have a lot of trust in me to accurately capture the wide variety of emotions that are occurring in whatever stage of life they may be in.
In all seriousness though, this shoot made me want to go home and work on writing my wedding vows. I have great examples of long-standing marriages: my parents, grandparents, my fiance’s parents, multitudes of aunts and uncles; but it wasn’t until this shoot that I realized I only have a few couples I can look at and be like – Yes, that is where I want to be in five years. Full of humour, teasing, and easy smiles, they are still playful in that “young love” sort of way that wrinkly people describe my fiance and I as being. There is much love between them, especially evident at this time. Now, I’m not much of one for children or babies, but it seems to bring out something special in a couple who’s possibly just days away from having a screaming, snotty, poop-machine in their very own home. Ask them to hold “the belly” and they hear “think sweet nothings about each other and make every other couple jealous of your partner with the way you gently hold her and the way you look at him, and send love to your baby-to-be like your fingertips were magic love-wands that could lovezap that child right through all the pregnant belly gushiness”.
And She will probably kill me for the above description, hence the quick photo follow-up. But being welcomed into their home to document this part of their life, made me stop and wonder – maybe I do want a Baby McPoopsalot someday.
Fiance – no worries, not anytime soon. I still think parenting is self-inflicted torture – just maybe only a kind that gives you Stockholm Syndrome that makes it all seem worthwhile.