Worth the (group) shot

Last week I decided that I wanted to take a picture of my gang before they went to school. So, as we headed out the door, I grabbed the camera and braced myself. After all, although I never know whether a photo shoot will result in a good picture, one thing's for certain: Any attempt to snap a group pic will involve a degree of chaos—most often characterized by a lot of running around (by the kids), a modicum of sweating (by me), a heaping helping of not listening (by the kids), and the possibility of some shouting (by me).

That day's photo session was no exception. As soon as we stepped out the door, I told the kids to stand still so that we could get a picture before we got in the van. The girls did as they were told, but the boys acted as if I had not spoken at all:

"No, Isaac, we're not getting in the van yet! Go back
and stand with your sisters so we can get a picture.
You, too, Jude."

While the boys were getting their act together, the girls decided it would be a good time to show each other some love:

"Aw, that's sweet, girls. Very nice. Okay, you two stay
there and hug. Isaac, go stand by your sisters, and I'll
 take a picture of you guys. Jude, you, too!"

But the tender moment was over before the boys could get into place, and the girls decided go stand by Jude instead:

"Oh, good idea! Yes, everybody stand against the wall.
Isaac, go stand by Dahlia!"

Suddenly everybody was right where I wanted them:

"Okay, great! Now, look at Mommy, guys!"

But I could only get one or two people to look at the camera at the same time:

"Isaac! You need to look at Mommy! Jude, you, too!"

 Then Isaac got bored with facing in my direction:

"No, no, Isaac! You need to turn around!
Everybody, PLEASE, look at MOMMY!"

And decided it would be a good time to make some noise:

"Isaac, we're not going to bang on the wall right now.
Dahlia, stop copying your brother! Both of you,
please turn around so we can get a picture!"

I'm sure he was trying to drown out the sound of my ever-growing desperation to get a shot of everyone both looking at the camera and facing me:

"Good job, Dahlia. Okay, Isaac, now look at Mommy,
please. No, you need to turn around and look at me!"

Just as I was ready to tear out my hair and throw in the towel, though, something magical happened:

"YES! Thank you for looking at Mommy!!!"

A good-enough shot—totally worth the blood (pressure hike), the sweat, and the (near) tears. And we still got to school on time!