Smile, It's Picture Day!

It's picture day at school! You remember picture day: you debated with your folks about what package to buy (there were no proofs--you decided in advance), wore clothes you never wore to school, fussed with your hair all day, enjoyed the altered school day schedule, jockeyed for where you stood in the group photo, and later liked exchanging pictures with your friends (and writing notes on the back in pen that inevitably impressed the front) when they came back in their little cellophane-window envelopes, complete with full class picture.

My kids have picture day today. My goodness, they are in school, growing up, having formal pictures made. It'll be their first studio picture because unlike every other family we know, we don't take formal studio pictures at Sears, JCPenneys, or any of those places specifically for kids' pictures. We take thousands of candid shots and have some more formal pics from my sister's wedding, but nothing with that telltale white border and gray sheet backdrop.

The paper announcing school pictures came home a few weeks okay. Children should wear solid, bright colors, would be photographed full-length, and could bring a special toy. The first the kids mentioned of it was Tuesday. I had mentioned that picture day was coming up and Sis said that the teachers had said they wouldn't get to play in the block room, where the photographer would be set up. She was annoyed. And frustrated. I tried not to giggle.

I didn't make a big deal of it--no new haircuts, though we did wash last night (a mistake, since they had slight bed-head from the damp hair this morning), no new clothes. I did choose clothes they never wear, though, to meet the clothes suggestion. A blue turtleneck for him, red for her, jeans for both, and regular shoes. I thought having them both in turtlenecks would be like matching but not too twin-y and not too unlike what they usually look like. And of course, Shirt, Amy the Bunny, and Litte Mr. Big Penguin were going to be in the pictures too. Pictures of the kids separately and then of them together.

And then we got to school. Bud said his tummy hurt, probably from expectations of something new (oooh, Pop, I think he has our tummies). Both Bud and Sis clutched their pictures as we entered. Sure enough, the block room was filled with lights, backdrop, blocks to sit on, and big camera. The children all stood around silently watching the photographer pose and then photograph the first volunteers. Bud clutched my hand, Sis stared silently, not even greeting their visiting student teacher whom she adored. I'd forgotten the butterflies that school picture day could create. "Mommy," Bud asked quietly, "can you take the picture with us?"

I knew it was time to normalize the day for them as much as possible and extricate myself from the premises. So I gently coaxed them to the marker table and encouraged them to make cards for their babysitter's birthday celebration this afternoon. That worked. And I left.

But I had a complete crisis of conscience on the way home. All the other kids were totally dressed up: fancy dresses, jewelery, new hair bows, sweaters, neckties! Sure, they were nervous too (one cried, one said she wouldn't smile, one was upset his mother was leaving), but they looked fancy. Should I have dressed the kids up more? Did I really need to embrace our differences as a family (not the lesbian part, the casual part, though I guess those are often one and the same) on picture day by allowing them to look like the comfortable kids they were instead of acknowledging the culture of picture day and getting them all dressed up? Don't they deserve (deserve??!!!!) to be fancy on picture day too? Oh, goodness. But neither had shown any interest in what they wore. They do sometimes, but not now (which is good because they would've chosen their Halloween costumes!) And when I'd suggested the turtlenecks, explaining the look-similar-but-not-alike idea, they were fine with it. Sure, Mom, they might have said, whatever. The most I had done was fuss over their hair a bit because of the bedhead (any is a lot because we almost rarely even comb them--their short, straight hair falls neatly naturally). And taken a comb, just in case.

It's probably good that I had left. I would only have fretted more--should I have chosen the pink turtleneck albeit the one with the flower pattern instead? maybe they should've worn their best clothes too, or even some of their favorites, even if they would clash in their paired photo? Bother. At least what's done is done. I go get them soon and I imagine their pictures are over.

And really, in the end, no matter what they wear, their our kids and they'll look wonderful to us. And we'll buy lots of photos and send them to family.

And we'll get to do it all again next year.

I wonder how I'll do it then.

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What the kids said: Yep, they had their pictures taken. The only mention beyond confirmation that it happened: Bud was sad that not every picture had his penguin in it.

And when I confessed my mini-crisis to the teacher, she said she liked the more casual clothes. Sympathetically adding that I'd mess them up somehow (or at least be blamed for it!) so no sense worrying about the pictures! Gotta love and appreciate the voice of experience.