Two moms, four girls, one "photographer"

The day started out calmly enough. Caitlin was still at her dad's finishing up a long weekend with him, so the house was peaceful, absent of the never-ending drama that takes place between the two oldest girls. I had managed to bathe Noelle, Taylor, and myself before my friend M and her baby, R, arrived. Somehow, I was actually running right on time.

M and I had picked out coordinating dresses for our girls months before in anticipation of this day. We had been waiting years to have babies at the same time, and through adoption, M finally had her first child, a little girl only a month older than Noelle. We though it would be adorable to get all four girls photographed together in the aforementioned dresses.

After picking Caitlin up and getting her ready in the public bathroom where the only electrical outlet available to plug in the curling iron was behind the entrance door, M and I checked into our appointment right on time. At this point, we were informed that there would be about a 15 or 20 min wait. We headed to the waiting room with the girls in tow. Now, in an establishment that seems to specialize in children's photography, one might expect to see a waiting room well-stocked with toys. At the very least, you might expect to see one of those big wooden blocks with the moving beads that you often see in doctors' offices. But no, this waiting room was just that - simply a room in which to wait. It held about 20 plastic chairs, a TV that didn't work, and walls plastered with photo advertisements featuring children and families, perfectly poised, smiling beautifully for the camera. Since none of them were sporting bug-bites that had been clawed bloody on their faces, as in the fashion of my oldest daughter, I could assume that our photo experience would not mirror theirs. I was right.

Finally, our "photographer," obviously a high school girl on summer break, was ready for us. M and I desired a variety of group and individual shots of our children and the first set of photos was to include all four girls. I knew things were not going to go well as soon as the photographer suggested Taylor sit on Caitlin's back (this is a routine position for sisterly assault at home). Taylor happily flopped on to Caitlin's back and sprawled out as Caitlin gave an exaggerated moan of pain. Once those two were properly arranged, it was time to bring in the babies. Noelle, who at this point in her life, seems to have no interest in becoming mobile, sat obediently where placed. R, on the other hand, has recently mastered the art of crawling, and is always anxious to show off her new trick. Every time R was placed into position, she promptly lunged forward and attempted to escape the set, anxious to examine the cords dangling from the camera a few feet away. Noelle on the other hand, was being a little too laid back. Void of any emotion, she sat there with her tongue hanging out, eyes drooped lazily. No amount of cooing and clicking would make her smile. Due to the babies' issues, the two older girls were required to stay posed, smiles frozen on their faces so they would be ready on the off chance that both babies would be caught smiling. Caitlin could hold her pose fairly well but Taylor was hunched over with an expression of sheer pain on her face. I urged her to smile but she appeared frightened by the concept. Usually the child will freeze and flash a huge grin at the mere sight of a camera. As the agony continued, I suggested giving the babies some flowers to hold in an attempt to get R to stay still. At this, Noelle sprung to life, attempting to shove hand fulls of flowers into her mouth at once.

The session progressed and we attempted some shots of the two babies together. There was a classic photo opp of the two after Noelle reached out and took R's hand. For whatever reason, the photographer chose not to capture this precious moment on film. The girl's lack of skills became even more evident when it was Noelle's turn to be photographed alone. I wanted to get some shots of her on her back grabbing her feet, as this was one of her new favorite things to do. As soon as she was laid on her back, she turned into the jolly little thing I know her to be. She couldn't stop smiling and grabbing her feet. The "photographer," of course, captured none of this. She fumbled with her cords and by the time she got around to taking pictures, Noelle was into checking out her surroundings. The girl decided it would be a god idea to squeak a rubber duckie in her face repeatedly. Every time Noelle grabbed her feet, rather than taking a picture, the girl squeaked the duck in her face. This continuously resulted Noelle getting excited and kicking her legs down, obviously letting go of her feet. After about 10 times of the girl not making the connection, I said, "Um, she's never going to do it if you keep squeaking that duck in her face." Though we did get some cute shots, she never did capture any of Noelle's abundant smiles on film in an individual photo. R, of course, smiled and posed like a seasoned model for her individual shots.

Finally, after about an hour and a half, we were finished. Next, of course, we had to view and select the photos. A few minutes after the viewing began, Taylor, in classic three-year-old style, announced that she had to go to the bathroom. I asked Caitlin to take her, knowing deep down that this was a horrible mistake. A few min later, I heard what sounded like a baby crying loudly nearby. Behind that, however, I could hear something else. Taylor was screaming in absolute hysterics in the bathroom. After about 10 seconds, I could ignore it no more. I went to check out the situation. Upon opening the bathroom door, I was practically knocked over by the overwhelming sound of screaming echoing off the bathroom walls. I opened my children's stall to find Taylor standing there, her underwear around her ankles, sobbing inaudibly. Caitlin seemed at a loss as to what was wrong with her sister. Finally, I was able to discern that the automatic flushing toilet had been repeatedly going off, terrifying her. I got her cleaned up and calmed down and we returned to the viewing area. By this time, R had suddenly decided she was starving. While M attempted to simultaneously make a bottle and hold a squirming baby, R could wait no longer and reached out and batted at the open bottle, splashing half-mixed formula all over the counter and some paper-work that was lying there. Eventually, we selected photos, spending way more than anticipated on this adventure. Almost three hours after we arrived, we finally exited the booming metropolis that is the Piqua Mall.