Never Apologize For Selfies

It's (still) the summer of quarantine and I'm (still) working from my porch. Not being able to travel often -- not being able to go places to capture photos -- I take, instead, the sources that come to me. (You'll notice this vantage -- from my porch -- in other recent P.I.P. photos.) And so today, as I was putting together an updated (online!) syllabus for my Psychology courses in the Fall, this pair happened by.

She was beautiful. A barrette in her hair matched her white dress that fit the form of her quite pregnant belly. She walked as he, her young boy, followed her along on his little bicycle. When they came into my view, a conflict was brewing. He was eager to ride his bike, uninterrupted. She, however, finding the greenery around an inspiring background, wanted a selfie and was asking for his help.

Impatient to get back to his bike, he snapped a quick photo halfheartedly and sped off. But it must have been blurry or wrongly composed, because when she looked at it, she called him back; asked him to do it over. He griped. He procrastinated. He did nothing to hide his displeasure or impatience. She tried some on her own, but those of us who know selfies know the difficulty of getting it all in at only an arm's length -- even without a pregnancy adding to the frame.

And I loved this moment so much. I loved her so much. I am, after all, that mom who wants to document things; to keep memories visual and visceral. Times are fleeting -- pregnancies, childhood, life -- all move so damn fast. No need to apologize for wanting to capture it, cage it so it can't fade away. Even if others have to wait a moment, impatient or not.