Or, rather, I'm not really photo-lucky.
In the grand scheme of posed and non-posed pictures alike, I am always the girl who's standing at the just the right angle so that she looks pregnant, man-ish, and grimacing.
With spinach stuck in my teeth to boot.
Case in point: My maternity photos.
In which I puked.
Look closely. Yeah, that's what you think it is.Plus, we've all seen my illustrious husband's Photo-shopping skills.
In other words, it was now or never, people.
So, I booked a session with a local photographer and fellow military wife for Ella's 3-month portraits, in which I'd decided we'd catch a few shots of the hubs and I with our blossoming little progeny while she still thought we were the best thing going since sliced bread.
Which is why, on Sunday, I awoke my sleeping daughter from her nap, threw her in the car with all manner of baby-doll dresses, headbands, and tutus, and headed to a nearby neighborhood park to meet the photographer.
Fairly new to parenthood, the hubs and I had never been to said park before, having no real need for the latest and greatest in playground equipment.
But, for a newbie, I thought the place seemed quite nice, albeit a little, well, nature-y.
My opinion was further cemented when we drove by a sign, reading, Reptiles in Area. Play at Your Own Risk.
Now, I'm no chicken. I'm from Florida. I've seen reptiles.
Heck, an alligator roamed freely about one area of my alma mater's college campus, calling one of our dormitory ponds home and greeting students right on the sidewalk as they meandered to and from class.
I can do almost all reptiles.
Almost all reptiles except one.
Snakes. Dear God. Snakes.
I hate them. I mean, HATE them.
Remember last summer, when I ran over one with my car? On purpose? And didn't regret it?
Yeah, I'm a self-prescribed animal lover. But I'd shoot a snake in cold blood and love every darn second of it.
I just can't stand the little suckers.
So, I was a bit wary about the supposed park we were going to be posing in after seeing that foreboding sign. But my husband quieted my fears by telling me that, thanks to the overcast nature of the day, we'd likely not see too many snakes, as they wouldn't be out sunning like they do on most bright, hot, Southern days.
Trying not to freak out in front of my happy baby, I then decided to maintain my composure.
And upon meeting the photographer, I put the nagging worry out of my mind entirely. I was too busy debating dresses, and headbands, and tutus with her to notice the "nature-y" nature of the park around me.
In a few minutes time, we'd slapped an outfit on Ella and were ready to go. The photographer led us over to a nearby tree. I was chirping along, saying a prayer that Ella would hold it together long enough for us to get one good shot, when I heard my husband sternly say, "Hold on."
"What, babe? Let's go! We have to beat the oncoming rain and the baby's tolerance!" I immediately retorted back.
I took two more steps, and then, I saw it.
Slithering down the tree trunk we were seconds away from being posed in front of was - sigh - a snake.
A big one.
A big five-foot-long one.
A big five-foot-long one with black-and-white stripes and scaly skin and, and... Oh heavens, I can't even tell you more about it because my skin is positively crawling already.
Needless to say, I was not thrilled.
I will allow Ella herself to give you a re-enactment of my face:
And, then, I screamed. Bloody murder.I turned around and ran. Like lightening.
Then I immediately hopped up on a nearby bench and shrieked until the photographer talked me down and told me we didn't have to stand in front of that tree anymore.
Still, I tolerated only a few shots on the ground before I returned to my post on my newly dubbed "Safety Bench."
Which is why all the mommy-daughter shots of Ella and I look like this:
You should have seen my husband coaxing me out on the park's look-out dock so we could get this shot:
I couldn't even enjoy my little smiley baby for fear a snake would slither up or, worse yet, someone would drop my smiley baby in what I'm sure were the snake-infested waters.
Luckily, Ella sensed my fear and my strong desire to get the heck out of Snake-Infested Dodge.Within minutes of the sweetest set of photos we had...
...she let out the perfect bellow.
I raced to my car, baby in tow, faster than I could scream out, "Her 6-month photos are definitely going to be taken inside, got that? INSIDE!"I then locked myself in the van, picturing happier things and swearing, yet again, that I needed to move far, far away from the South before I shoot off my own foot trying to rid the world of my biggest fear.
***
Luckily, we got some amazing pictures. In fact, these are the first professional photos I've had done that I actually like.
The photographer will definitely be re-hired in a few months time. We'll need photos of Ella at 6 months old, plus we'll need a shot for our Christmas card.All of which will have a lovely, blank, clean, snake-less background.
Case closed.
***
Happy Thursday, everyone!
