They are my memories... Leave them alone | Hippie Chic's Makings

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They are my memories... Leave them alone

We are your average everyday family, and like every average family we used to take our kids to get professional portraits taken. With what I considered mediocre results. But we did it because it is just what people did.

We would go out and buy matching outfits for our 4 children, scold, and scoff, and shake our fingers at them about getting the suits dirty before picture time. Get them there and twist them and turn them and get frustrated cuz they wouldnt stay in that perfect position the woman posed them in. Then I realized. This isn't my life, this isnt my kids. This is NOT how we do things.

After the photographer lady tried tirelessly to keep my youngest childs shoews on for a picture, and then lined them all up with butts turned to us as if they were walking into??? a blue backdrop I decided this isnt for us.

When my children are grown and gone, I dont want to look at pictures of them being fake, When im 90 and they are grandparents, and my memory is slipping and I cant remember yesterday let alone 40 years ago.. I want to remember my children, and my life as it was. Because I love my children, and my life just the way it is.

Baby ryan with one shoe on and one shoe off, no matter how hard you tried, Hannah and Chris horseplaying at the dinner table even tho they have been asked repeatedly to stop. Me flustered with my hair in a mess, and a stern finger pointed in the direction of a wrong doing child. That is my life.. Not those posed, faked, expensive moments I pay way to much to pretend I remember. Cuz you know when I remember moments like that? Only when I have forced them on my family.

So with that said, here are a few of my most recent favorite moments, and the picture I have, or plan to have blown up and framed on my wall, because this is who we really are, and this is the family that i really love, and we don't need to be anything for anyone as long as we have each other unconditionally... which we do and always will...

melissa

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They are my memories... Leave them alone

We are your average everyday family, and like every average family we used to take our kids to get professional portraits taken. With what I considered mediocre results. But we did it because it is just what people did.

We would go out and buy matching outfits for our 4 children, scold, and scoff, and shake our fingers at them about getting the suits dirty before picture time. Get them there and twist them and turn them and get frustrated cuz they wouldnt stay in that perfect position the woman posed them in. Then I realized. This isn't my life, this isnt my kids. This is NOT how we do things.

After the photographer lady tried tirelessly to keep my youngest childs shoews on for a picture, and then lined them all up with butts turned to us as if they were walking into??? a blue backdrop I decided this isnt for us.

When my children are grown and gone, I dont want to look at pictures of them being fake, When im 90 and they are grandparents, and my memory is slipping and I cant remember yesterday let alone 40 years ago.. I want to remember my children, and my life as it was. Because I love my children, and my life just the way it is.

Baby ryan with one shoe on and one shoe off, no matter how hard you tried, Hannah and Chris horseplaying at the dinner table even tho they have been asked repeatedly to stop. Me flustered with my hair in a mess, and a stern finger pointed in the direction of a wrong doing child. That is my life.. Not those posed, faked, expensive moments I pay way to much to pretend I remember. Cuz you know when I remember moments like that? Only when I have forced them on my family.

So with that said, here are a few of my most recent favorite moments, and the picture I have, or plan to have blown up and framed on my wall, because this is who we really are, and this is the family that i really love, and we don't need to be anything for anyone as long as we have each other unconditionally... which we do and always will...

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