Why I'm a slacker parent, reason #56

Last week, we spent a great week in Bucieras, just outside of Nuevo Vallarta. From the lush grounds to the beautiful sunsets and ocean walks you'd think we'd be rife with photos, just lousy with shots of our beautiful son in front of the wild dolphins that visited each day, digging our way through a virtual treasure trove of album-worthy shots. Clearly, you have not met us.

On this 8-day extravaganza, we managed to take two in-focus shots of our son:





And about 17 of the animals that the maid made each day from our rough but clearly morphable towels:









And one of the restaurants where we had our only really good meal:



WHAT KIND OF PARENT DOES THIS? Am I the same kind of person who puts their kid on a leash rather than hold their hand, who parents through benign neglect and who, when called upon to put together that graduation or wedding photo montage of their child's life is only able to supply a few unknown-baby in diaper pics, the first mug shot and a school photo that should have been lost once head-gear was no longer a fashion statement? I realized how bad it had gotten when I downloaded these new pics into my files, only to note that the last download was over two months ago and that those photos seemed to focus more on a bunny cake and our dog...who is admittedly cute as a button and so photogenic.

But I then realized that we spend so much of our day EXPERIENCING that we have little time to document, and that when I try to capture those moments in a photo or even in words, they are unable to convey to power and emotion and uniqueness of the experience. From Shawn Joaquin leaning in close to tap my nose and say "Good. Job." when he saw that I was successful in the bathroom to his bursts of insane love when he shouts "I GONNA KISS AND HUG YOU. GET REAAAAAAAAADY" and charges across the room to head butt my legs before being lifted up for the more traditional signs of affection, these moments can't be captured in any form other than my best memories. There is no photographic technology that can capture the love and sweetness of the look he gives me at bedtime, looking back at me while his daddy reads him the Troll book for the 47th time. No words to express his happiness about air travel, with his almost tearful joy about airplane snacks and his first set of headphones. Those images and moments are locked in my head and carried in my heart and will be what sustains me the first time he decides that he hates me or thinks I'm embarrassing or forgets to call on my birthday. Or I can always look at the pictures of our towel animals, knowing that he was there, just out of frame, and so happy to be there with both of us and having our full attention each and every moment of the day.