We went to the playground the other day.
The same playground we’ve been going to for the past 4 years.
It’s about a 10 minute walk from our house – we call it the hippo because the starring feature is a huge plastic hippopotamus with no eyes. We spend our walks there often pondering what might have happened to those eyes. Did a kid steal them? Did they fall off in a thunderstorm? Did the wind simply blow them away?
During the spring time there’s always a friend there to play with. It’s a source of comfort on those long afternoons where we both need a break from each other. It’s a time for us to connect or reconnect depending on how the day has gone.
My camera comes to the park often.
I have more freedom to shoot these day too.
At 5 years old I’m not as worried that she’s going to bolt across the street into traffic. I’m not as worried she’s going to slip off the ladder on the equipment and fall off. I’m not as worried that she’s going to instigate a mulch throwing party.
I don’t have to keep my eye on her quite as faithfully as I have in the past.
But even so, my camera only sometimes makes an appearance.
Oftentimes it still remains tucked away in my bag.
My little miss sunshine no longer wants to pause and pose for the lens. She wants to hold hands and pretend we’re stuck together like gluey glue. She wants to save every earthworm she finds fighting its way from pavement back to the moist grass a few inches away, and she wants to flit like a butterfly from tree to tree observing every leaf and flower and branch.
She wants me with her. She wants to play. Zero distractions.
She doesn’t want a camera cutting off our connection to one another. The camera makes her feel a bit anxious and uneasy these days. And she’s a busy girl with her own desires now.
I do long to document the way her blonde hair whips around in the breeze, I want to capture her contagious giggles she gives so freely, and I would love to feel the warmth of a spring breeze through fresh images of her.
But most days I keep the camera tucked away.
Why?
The separation between me and her is widening.
My role as a mom is changing.
My role as a momtographer is shifting.
Right now my job is to respect her. As a girl whose growing into her independence.
Right now my role is to embrace me. As a women who is rediscovering herself behind the lens.
It’s time for me to redefine my photography journey and remember that I am more than ‘mom’.
I am ME too.
And the journey to myself, although oftentime feels so distant — is really never far.
It’s usually just a click away.