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My sister and my childhood is well documented in photographs. Each one labeled with the year and the event. There is album upon album of the two of us in dance recitals, opening Christmas gifts, standing by random fountains in random New England towns.

I am well on my way to creating the same visual history for Theo. Unfortunately, Iím also creating the very same void that I have with my own photographed past: my mom is mostly absent. And now that sheís gone, I miss her in those photos even more. I have that great shot of us from my first birthday. There are some goofy ones from my 13th b-day, too. There are others, of course, but not enough.

By always having the camera in hand, Iím never in the picture. But I want to be in the picture. I want Theo to have me in the picture. Theoís only a baby. He wonít remember any of the time we spend together for a good while, but heíll always have the photos.

While Iím still going to snap a million and one pictures of my boy and my boy and his dada, I need to start giving Nate the camera. I need to set up the tripod in the backyard and capture some goofy pose-y family shots. Heck, I may even force the fam to visit the good ol fashion Sears Portrait Studio.
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