I was looking through all the pictures from our vacation to put up on The Goon Squad’s website, and I noticed something odd. This is going to sound incredibly selfish, but I am shockingly absent from the pictures of my family. I know I should not be surprised, or upset, because I take most of the pictures, but it just appears as if I’m not there.
Here’s the morbid part. I keep thinking that if I died tomorrow, my kids would think I wasn’t involved, or that I never held them, or they wouldn’t be able to remember me the way I was when they were little. I guess if you looked at it objectively, they would understand that I was there, I was just taking the pictures.
I remember when we started getting doubles of all the pictures that were taken in the first week or two of the squad’s life. There were no pictures of me – or Gabe. We had pictures of the twins with grandparents, Aunts, friends, nurses… at the time I remember that there was one picture of me, and I looked so bad that I was half relieved that there weren’t more. But I was also sort of sad. You always see pictures of mothers holding their newborns and looking tired. I know I had extenuating circumstances… right after my c-section I spent several hours receiving a blood transfusion and my kids were in the NICU for a week, so it’s not like the whole family was hanging out in my hospital room taking photographs.
They could always look at my old photo albums, filled with pictures of me when I was in college. My college roommate Tammy took even more pictures than I do. I also have tons of pictures from high school when I would just hand people the camera and say “Here, take a picture of me”.
When my Uncle started using digital cameras, he began taking other pictures of himself and cutting himself out and adding himself to pictures he took of the family. At first I thought it was silly, but now I realize why he does it.
I’m sure that I’m being over sensitive about this whole thing, but that is what a blog is for, right?
Maybe subconsciously I stay away from the camera with my post-twin bearing body. Maybe I’m too busy holding one twin out of the way while we take a picture of the other twin.
Maybe it is all part of the anonymity of motherhood.