Thursday, November 30, 2006
Take a picture; it'll last longer
So when it comes to pictures, she has them. All of them.
And she doesn't just have a camera. She has two cameras: a digital and a regular camera. She sends me all of her pictures that she takes. And she doesn't really need to do that because, while I scrapbook, I don't need THAT many pictures. I have boxes upon boxes of pictures that I am just not going to do a thing with, and I am not going to put them in an album. I don't like them because they are impersonal to me. I would rather have them in a warm looking scrapbook... at some point in the picture's life.
And we don't just get pictures of Queen Bee scoring a goal, or the Monkey blowing out candles. No. That would be good enough for me, but it isn't for her.
We also get pictures of them. Fishing. On their boat. Holding up a fish. Going to a covered bridge. Shoot, I even have a few of them in their, ahem, bathing suits.
Now seriously. WHAT am I going to do with a picture of my MIL and FIL in their bathing suits?
I was pondering putting all of the pictures that I have pulled out of them in their own photo album, and handing them back to her. I don't NEED these pictures. I don't. I have pictures of them (that she has taken, mind you) with my kids. And that is all I really need.
But what really chaps my arse is this: when she emails me and asks me for MY pictures that I have taken at an event. Take Thanksgiving. She had both of her cameras there, and she wasn't letting any opportunity pass her by with that camera. All the good for her so she can have all of those pictures.
But when you ask ME for MY pictures, that doesn't cut it. Those are MY pictures, and if you weren't there for the moment (read: there are pictures that Ace took of the kids playing at the park; I am SURE that she is feeling left out of those photo opportunities because she couldn't go and snap every single moment on film), then really, you don't NEED those pictures. Because who is in all places at all times?
I am good. I forward her pictures of the kids at programs that they aren't able to attend. I forward her pictures of photos I have taken here at the house that are cute.
But when she is in the same place as I am, and she doesn't get the picture that I got, then so be it. That is just too bad that you aren't getting THAT angle.
And the reason I sound so bitter about this: when I had the Monkey, I was on the table, had my little operating hat on, and the nurse was holding the Monkey up so I could get a peek at her. It was MY moment. Ace took a picture of it, and that is mine to keep.
When my MIL was looking at the Monkey's birth scrapbook, she pointed at the one photo ... that one ... and said "oh.. I don't have THAT one."
You know WHY you don't have that one? Because that is MINE. And you aren't getting it.
Apparently, Ace didn't get that memo. And now she has it.
So now she has about every picture that used to be sacred to me.
And nothing is really mine anymore.
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
TT # 19