This weekend, my family had the rare opportunity to take a little vacay at the beach (and the racetrack of course)! I, of course, wanted to get just the right memory shots so that years from now we’ll look back upon the Facebook album (because of the new memories feature of course) and fondly recall the great time we had playing in the sand and seeing cool things at the track.
So, the kids began to play in the sand and water and began to take some pictures. Digging in the sand. Looking for shells. Buried in the sand. Cool writing in the sand.
And then I needed action shots in the water right? So as I’m standing at the edge of the water, trying to get pictures of the kids having fun in the water, I’m thinking “Don’t drop the phone. I hope that wave doesn’t splash up too high. What’ll I do if a kid goes under the wave while I have my phone in my hand?” And then I heard “Mommy, come in the ocean with us!” and then I heard “Just a minute, let me get some pictures first.”
What? Did those words just come out of my mouth? I can’t get in the ocean and play with my kids because I’m taking pictures of them playing so we can remember how much fun we had?
That’s ridiculous.
So I stopped taking pictures. We have very few pictures from our weekend away together. Some family shots that strangers took. Some things the kids asked me to take a picture of. And a series of pictures documenting the progression of a jellyfish sting. (Who knew the remaining purplish red marks looked so cool?)
You know what? I don’t regret it a moment. You see, instead of documenting the fun, I was a part of the fun. I took off my swim cover-up, got in the ocean and played with my kids. We went out deep. We fought waves (sometimes with punches and sometimes with kicks). We chased each other on the beach. We body surfed (well, our version of it anyway). We laughed. We made memories together.
I think that’s worth remembering.
Kris Mares 
Recent Comments