Picture Frames

Each month since my eldest child was born, we take a picture of each of them on the calendar day they were born to put in a special frame. Every new parent gets one of these memory frames at a shower or from a friend. Basically this means they get saddled with the obligation of performing this task or face the consequences of staring at a half filled frame and feeling the twinges of guilt for the rest of their lives.

In our family this is no mere picture - it's a ritual. All aspects of this picture are meticulously thought out and coordinated. I begin the Chinese water torture by inspecting the child's wardrobe to pick out the perfect outfit. Not only is level of sophistication painstakingly considered, but also the season and that month's holidays are taken into account. A February picture will almost certainly be a red outfit - October would be orange...you get the picture! The socks and shoes must not only match, but also enhance the outfit and of course the hair bow that is as big as their heads is the cherry on top of my psychotic sundae.

Once all the prep work is complete it is time to pose the lucky little girl. Rhu's pictures during her first year were always taken in the same spot in her crib. I felt this consistency would pay off in the end with uniform pictures in the frame - turns out it's just another symptom of my obsessive compulsive disorders. RaRa started out in her sister's crib for several months before graduating to her own crib for this regular torture. This switch midway will probably haunt me for the rest of my life. I already feel the twitches when I look at the frame with the different backgrounds.

After the child is dressed, the crib is prepped and the camera is on, the magic can finally begin. It's now a race against the clock to see if I can get the perfect picture before crying or crawling ensues. I have learned to take these pictures after a nap so we have a rested baby to work with. I start my chorus of the child's name in desperate hopes of getting them to look at me and smile. I use the singsong method of speaking PBS is constantly going on and on about to try to attract their attention. When that fails, I use props, mouth noises and even a grandparent to extract the perfect look and smile. Really I would stop at nothing to get a picture that looks like Annie Leibovitz snapped it.

Usually each session entails me snapping a few pics and running back to the crib to reposition the child. She usually crawls around again before I am able to take another picture so round and round we go with repositioning and crawling. It's an agonizing merry-go-round until one of us gives up. (Usually I win; after all I am the adult...right?)

When I am finally satisfied I got the picture or completely exhausted from the battle of wills, the exercise is over. I can finally undress the poor child who was forced to pose for a Top Model cover shoot like Tyra was breathing down her neck. I take off the outfit I assembled with such care and release her into her natural habitat like freeing Willy. The older they get, the faster they run away. I wonder why.

Tell me again, who invented these "memory" frames??