I’ve Been There
I saw a woman at the children’s museum we visited this week.
She had five children with her – just like me.
And her kids were a lot like mine . . . kind, funny, rowdy, polite, unruly, curious, speedy.
Just like any number of small people that we know.
I was sitting on a bench feeding Fox his lunch and I was watching this family.
They were preparing to leave the museum, but this mother of five wanted one little group photo before they left.
She lined them all up, posed them properly. (Anyone who has photographed children in groups knows what a daunting task that can be.) They were all seated on a rock wall by the museum’s waterfall – perfect splashes of sunshine filtering in through the building’s skylights.
The mom looked through the viewfinder, told everyone to smile.
But one son decided he didn’t want to.
Not then.
No smiling for him.
And no photograph either, for that matter. He was no longer interested.
This soft, smiling mother put her camera aside. Her face contorted into an angry, unbecoming expression and she reached for her son’s arm, pulled him back, spoke harsh words sternly into his uplifted face and roughly placed him back on his perch on the rocks.
She stepped back to her camera and said, “Hug everyone and smile like you’re happy.”
Wait.
I’m not sharing this story to judge this woman.
I’m sharing this story
because
too often
I have been this woman.
I have acted like she did.
I have been more concerned with preserving an image of a perfect moment than in living a pretty decent one.
More concerned with the way I appear than the way I am.
Wrapped up in what I want to pretend my life looks like than in what I can do to shape my real life right now.
I want the picture that says I have an adorable family but not the hard work to love that adorable family.
Sometimes I settle for the image instead of the real thing.
10 Comments
Amy Holmes
Oh so true.
Jenny Powell
whoa……how is it that you always get right to the heart of me? thanks for sharing this.
Shelley in SC
Did you have to write this?? Do I have to finish up my Sunday night with more conviction? Have you been living in my house this week? ::aaaargh!!::
Kevin Keigley
Still images don't spit up on your clean shirts.
And they are quieter.
You can also tuck them neatly into your pocket or visor — unlike real children.
jenny nickoli
So Every Day http://www.soeveryday.com/?p=561
wyndee holbrook
Tears are trickling down my face as I love you all the more and feel the weighty conviction of my own behavior. Wow, I suck!
Wyndee
LaceyKeigley
You have no idea how humbling it is for me to think that you are sitting at a computer in Kentucky, reading my words and being moved.
It's such a "who would have ever thought this possible?" kind of moment for me.
I still recall so many deep and important conversations we had at Cumberland, in white vans and on mission trips.
You have done important things in many lives – my friend. Important things.
Jaime
I love this post. I love all your posts, but this is so me. When you said, "I have been more concerned with preserving an image of a perfect moment than in living a pretty decent one.", that was me summed up to a T!! And I would love to see all these women who I think live wonderful, peaceful, well-organized lives behind closed doors when no one is watching except her kids. That's what gets me. When I see women who have their kids out and they are so well behaved, wonderful manners, blah blah blah…I judge myself. I question myself. I doubt myself. That's why I love this post. It helps me remember that I'm real…and God has given me the type of children that I can't pretend to be otherwise, even when I'm in public, hahaha!!! What you see is what you get…it's what's real in my life.
THANK YOU for this post and a great insight.
LaceyKeigley
Thanks so much Jaime – I really appreciate your words and sharing. (It makes me believe it's worthwhile to keep punching at these keys and sharing my junk!)
nikkie
uh-oh. you got me on this one. i worry about image way too much…..way. too. much.
i've been that woman, too. me too, lacey. thanks for the reminder.