Most days I seem to snap a photo or two. Other days I might hit 500 if I am out with my real camera and spending a few hours seriously focusing on taking pictures.
They are not all great photos, despite what you might think. I have so many that are pretty crappy. Then I have the ones like today’s photo of the day. The ones that I take that are important because they are pictures that capture the moments of my life. The big moments. The small moments. You know what I mean. We all have them. On our phones and in tucked away in shoe boxes in the closet.
These are not the pictures that I look at later and marvel at the capture or the technique. They aren’t the ones that I feel a pleasure of knowing that I have managed to capture a beautiful photographic memory. These are the pictures of what happens in my life and helps me to remember the little things. The things that matter. Don’t get me wrong. I love those pictures that I can print out and frame. Hang on my wall and feel some kind of artistic pride. But nothing beats the ones that remind me of a meal I ate. Or a book I read. Or a moment of time that I have captured in the lives of my children.
My eight year old is a girly-girl. She has been talking about getting her ears pierced for quite a long time. She told me that she knows most of the kids in her grade have their ears pierced. I told her that a lot of times people get it done when they are babies but I didn’t do that because I wanted my girls to choose it for themselves. I wanted them to have that experience and memory.
I had my ears pierced when I was a kid. Twice. I remember begging my mom to get it done. Then they became infected. Horribly infected. The first time my mom and Grandma tried to remove the earring themselves. I remember my mom thought the back came off and was on the floor trying to find it while my Grandma tried to pull the earring through my ear. My swollen, puss leaking, throbbing earlobe. I still remember the pain. Naturally, I was screaming. I was seven and I very clearly remember this moment in my Grandma’s kitchen. It was something that my Grandma always felt guilty for. I ended up in the ER and had it cut out. A few years later I convinced my mom to let me get it pierced again and that too led into the ER.
I always thought that it was because I was allergic to metal or I didn’t take care of it properly. But as a mom, I have a resource that my own mother did not have. Good Ole Google. How the hell would I parent without it??
When I google getting ears pierced to find a place, up comes all this stuff about how the guns at the mall are really bad for you. They can NOT be sterilized. So even though they may be cleaned they are not clean enough for me. They carry a high risk of infection. They are also not as accurate as a plain old needle in the hands of a person who is a professional piercer.
So today I took my daughter to a tattoo parlor and we got her ears pierced. I am glad that I waited. When I see how happy she was and how proud she was of not having cried or even said, “ow”, it makes me proud to have given her this memory. This experience. It is something for her to remember. Not as dramatic a memory as having her Grandma pull an earring through a horribly infected ear. But it will do.
When I pulled her hair back and looked at her earrings and helped her clean them tonight I was struck by how grown up she looked. Like a lady. It was one of those bittersweet moments as a parent when you see the time sweeping past you. I need this picture to hold on to and remind me to slow down and enjoy the race. Today I didn’t do the dishes. I forgot to pay my gas bill. (Again.) I didn’t do 500 chores that I should have. But I created this memory for me and my daughter and is there really anything in life that is better than that?
For more photos of the day click here:
Interested in my photography here are some posts to check out!