A moment with my littlest photographers

Today, my daughter told me that when she grows up, she wants to be a photographer. For the past month, her career of choice has been an opera singer. She's quite artistic. Today, she informed me that when she gets older, she can borrow my camera. Hmmm. Much older. Much much older.

We installed a new floor in the camera area of my studio this weekend. I was playing around this evening, and nobody wanted to pose for me. So, I took some lovely shots of the cabbage patch kid who always smiles, always sits still, never blinks, and most importantly, has a very long attention span. Though, unfortunately, she's not nearly as charming or adorable as real children. So, I offered my daughter to take a photo of me, hoping to entice some participation. They ran over, and each of them took turns taking photos of each other. My daughter did quite well for the age of four (going on 14). She held the camera, and even pressed the shutter to take the photo. It was an endearing moment for me as the first time I get to share my passion with her. I'll always remember the mental image of sitting in my lap with her curious little hands wrapped around my big, heavy camera. She was so excited to look through the lens, and press the shutter at precisely the right moment, and then to see the image that she made. She loved capturing my son's joyful expression. I loved that she loved it. Here's one she made:

My son required a little more assistance. His little fingers couldn't support the camera and reach the shutter at the same time, so I held it for him. He looked through my lens, and pressed the button. He did well, but we'll have to do a little work on his composition. Here's one image he made:

When I downloaded the image, I laughed out loud. It still makes me smile to see this. Isn't that what a photograph is supposed to do? Isn't that why we buy images of our children? Because they make us smile and remember how little, how curious, how silly, how tender, and how tiny they are. And I know that in the blink of an eye, my daughter will be old enough to borrow my camera.

Moments like these mean so much.