{"id":10147,"date":"2013-10-29T22:46:09","date_gmt":"2013-10-29T22:46:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/?p=10147"},"modified":"2020-09-11T14:26:44","modified_gmt":"2020-09-11T18:26:44","slug":"oh-wait-my-kids-have-a-mom","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/2013\/10\/29\/oh-wait-my-kids-have-a-mom\/","title":{"rendered":"Oh wait, my kids have a mom"},"content":{"rendered":"

When I popped in my memory card after our “cousin camp” trip to the OBX this past summer I was a little sad that I wasn’t in any picture. Not one. Not even half of one.<\/p>\n

Yet I was there. At least I think I was.<\/p>\n

And it’s not that I like to see myself in pictures because I usually run from the camera. I am WAY more comfortable behind it.<\/p>\n

But still, a whole vacation- not one pic.<\/p>\n

That’s just wrong. For me, and for my kids. They want to know their mom was there. At least I think they do.<\/p>\n

Today I was in the backyard of our rent house, snapping some pics of Cole<\/p>\n

And Shiloh<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

I bought a new lens and it has a bit of a learning curve<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\"\"\"\"<\/p>\n

Cole is such a mama’s boy<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

“Please can I take a few pics of you mom??”<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

So even though I was having a bad hair day and I hadn’t looked in the mirror since 6:50am I said- ok.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

And I knew I probably looked like crap and I wish I was skinnier, etc. But I still did it.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

I KNOW as a photographer the importance of pictures. Yet to get on the other side is so hard….<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

But I set the camera settings and handed it over- and he did awesome. Even on manual.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

I was happy to pop in my card and see myself- in all my faults and bad hair. Because I am part of the story as well.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

So get in front of the camera Mamas and ham it up, even if your dog has bad breath (and tries to lick your face with it)- and even if you look at the picture and think “wow, maybe it’s time I try Botox??”<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When I popped in my memory card after our “cousin camp” trip to the OBX this past summer I was a little sad that I wasn’t in any picture. Not one. Not even half of one. Yet I was there. At least I think I was. And it’s not that I like to see myself in pictures because I usually run from the camera. I am WAY more comfortable behind it. But still, a whole vacation- not one pic. That’s just wrong. For me, and for my kids. They want to know their mom was there. At least I think they do. Today I was in the backyard of our rent house, snapping some pics of Cole And Shiloh I bought a new lens and it has a bit of a learning curve Cole is such a mama’s boy “Please can I take a few pics of you mom??” So even though I was having a bad hair day and I hadn’t looked in the mirror since 6:50am I said- ok. And I knew I probably looked like crap and I wish I was skinnier, etc. But I still did it. I KNOW as a photographer the importance of pictures. Yet to get on the other side is so hard…. But I set the camera settings and handed it over- and he did awesome. Even on manual. I was happy to pop in my card and see myself- in all my faults and bad hair. Because I am part of the story as well. So get in front of the camera Mamas and ham it up, even if your dog has bad breath (and tries to lick your face with it)- and even if you look at the picture and think “wow, maybe it’s time I try Botox??”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":10148,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10147","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-life"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/Q14A5725copy.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10147","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10147"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10147\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17629,"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10147\/revisions\/17629"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/10148"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10147"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10147"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.elisalou.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10147"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}