At the top of our stairs there are two photos from our wedding. One with our wedding party and one of just Tracy and me.
Sometimes Tracy likes to look at the photos with Mac and point out the people he knows. But when they get to me he throws a fit.
"I don't like Ma like that. I don't like Ma like that."
Because the me on my wedding day looks little the me he sees everyday. My hair was longer (both naturally and thanks to the extensions my hairdresser clipped in for the side-do she created). Also, it has a big feather and rhinestone clip in which is not my usual around the house style. Instead of a t-shirt and pants I am wearing a long white dress. I'm thinner and tanned. And my nails are weirdly long. In that photo I am not the Mama he knows.
"I don't like Ma like that. I like Ma like ttthhhhaaattt." He says while pointing to my current mom look. And although he's said it a bazillion times it finally clicks with me. I like to have my picture taken when I look like I did on my wedding day (you know, when I've spent months prepping for that one day of photos and I'm only about 65% authentic). But Mac thinks I'm much more beautiful when I'm chasing him around the yard in an old t-shirt.
And those are the photos I should be taking. My reluctance to actually be in photos with him these days is robbing him of the memories he'll cherish. He may one day like to look at the photos from his moms' wedding but he won't remember those women. He'll remember us as we are today. And we should really be providing him with more photographic evidence of these days.
So yesterday, at the park without make-up (or chapstick apparently) and in a t-shirt, I asked my wife to take a photo of Mac and me. Which, predictably, went horribly as he had exactly zero interest in sitting still long enough. But we'll keep trying. This summer I will be in more photos with my son. As the mom he remembers. Y'all can hold me accountable.
Happy belated Mother's Day. I hope it was everything you wanted it to be.
