We have 60 terabytes of family footage.
For the last ten years of our blended family life together, Pippin and I have been recording just about every single movement of every single member of our family. Why?
Because this life is worth capturing. Well, that’s the easy answer – the puffed-up proud mom answer. Because like anyone else, I love the obvious stuff like first steps and birthdays, Christmas and dance recitals. But the real meat of life is located in between those moments.
Such as Jake’s obsession with pulling out his siblings loose baby teeth. Any and all arguments. Emotional transitions from one parent’s house to the other. Getting sauced late Christmas Eve and sitting among hundreds of unwrapped presents. Recording our turtle dying from an overdose of anesthesia from the vet because the dog ate him.
Life is just so much less staged in these moments, and I feel more connected with the realness, with my kids and my family. These are not Pinterest worthy moments: the house is a mess and the dog is shaking off his smelly wet body everywhere and the cat is eating pizza off the table and the kids are hitting each other and I’m sitting in the center of it all in that moment of truth. You know the feeling? That moment where an inner voice says to you: At one point, this was exactly what you wanted. And better yet: Do you still want it?
These filmed moments of chaos help me say yes. And with some damn conviction.
I wish I could say filming was my idea, but I actually have Pippin to thank. He’s obsessed with recording everything about our family. He claims to “find human interaction fascinating”. He says our family is the test subject—Which he uses to hone his skills on. “I like to record things that are helpful to other people. I want to help people in parenting through real life instructional videos.” Full Disclosure:
At the beginning of our recorded life together, I was not that keen on being on camera all the time. When Pascal was born, a short year after we met, I was still camera shy—or at least still worried about how I looked on camera. So when Pippin assumed we’d record the birth, it was met with a resounding no. Not when I was the leading lady, huffing and puffing, uncomfortable on my back—with the potential to suddenly not be able to communicate that I wanted him to “turn that freaking thing off.”
But, three continuously recorded years later, things had changed. Leopold’s three camera cinematic set up was in the works before I even made it to the corner suite of the Nine’s Hotel. (Another post for another day, but suffice it to say, Leopold’s birth was less of a How-To guide on birthing a kid, than an intense TMI guide about the discomfort of childbirth. And when we posted that video on Youtube, it probably served as birth-control for someone.
These days I’m totally sold on being filmed at any time of the day, whatever I’m doing.
I now understand his reasons. I think he just thinks his family is the most amazing thing walking the Earth. He doesn’t see the mess of life; he sees family poetry. And if he blinks, it will all be aged out. Whether it’s dancing in the shower, the kids laughing, in the hospital with a broken arm, my yelling at a kid or even bawling my eyes out—it all has it’s logical place in our world together. I would even go so far as to say I get ticked off now when he’s not recording , especially during a critical family moment that we will never recapture.
This is all to give some context about why we film. It’s because to us, these moments matter. All of them. I’ve even thought about setting up a few cameras in the house, to be rolling at all times.
So then, does this make us a selfie family?
I want to say no, but all signs point to yes. And for the most part, everyone is on board, or at least tolerant. Jake is constantly criticizing us for overusing or “abusing” the cameras. When the camera turns on, Phoenix reduces his personality to resemble day old porridge. Milla dodges questions and MJ slaps her forehead. But on occasion, one of the unwilling participants gives us a gem—a small glimmer into who they are becoming. The rest of the footage is just about how they got there.
And one of these days, I will be able to sit down and press play. Almost like I get to enjoy my life twice. At least I will never be the mom who says, “I can’t remember.”
I won’t need to remember, it’s all right here.
Aaaand cut,
So Called Mom
Next Post: Letting kids fail
We can’t possibly talk about what revs your engine if the keys can’t even get into the ignition, right?
