I was a late bloomer. While all my friends got their monthly moon (Ha! I've always wanted to write that. Monthly moon!) at like ten years old, I was the ripe old age of thirteen before my period started jacking up my feelings every 28 days. My boobs were late, too. My hips didn't go bam! til I was about sixteen and on and on and on...you get the point. I was a woman-child for a long time. Late late late. I still get carded. Well that's true only if I stay on top of my roots. Otherwise they see the copious amounts of grey hair crawling like an army from my scalp and let me have my Yuengling without batting an eye.

Wow. I've gone way off course. Moving on. 

So the other night I stepped out for dinner and a movie with my girlfriends. The movie was a disappointment but the company and dinner were exactly what this mama needed after a month swimming in the pukey waters of Hell Home. Why am I bringing this up? What does this have to do with my period and grey hair? Nothing.  But I wore a decorative scarf for the very first time (and just in time for everyone else to stop wearing them all together now that I've joined up). I have long admired the scarf wearing chutzpa of my friends. They look so adora-bibble and because I hate necklaces but love my neck covered (Was I hanged in a past life?), I have always wanted to jump on board the scarf as a fancy accessory train. So on Friday night I took the plunge. Who cares that I am four years late to this trend. I wore a mamma jamma scarf!

But scarves are not the point of this post, either. It's the picture. Because Duuuudes,  did you know you can turn the camera on your iPhone around? I'm sure you did. Actually, of course you did. Because everyone knew that several years ago. I am late to this party. I get that. It's a thing with me.

But being late doesn't negate the fact that a) I will rock scarves even if no one else does anymore and b) being able to get in the picture with your friends where everyone's face is actually in frame is super fun.

This brings me to actual point of this post. How many times have you looked through the album "Little Boo-Boo Pumpkin Butt's 1st Christmas" on a friend's Facebook page only to see not one picture of your friend? I know I'm guilty of this too. But a few months ago I read this post by Allison Tate and  I decided I wanted a better record of our life together, not just everyone else's life except mine. I decided that even if I look like I've been run over by a perogie van, I want pictures of me with my family. But it was hard to step out from behind the camera, man, because well I have control issues. I was doing pretty good in asking Daddy to take pics of me with the kids but well, I don't have to explain that dudes suck at that right? (I love you honey!) But seriously, it's some kind of mom virus I think. The urge to take a picture. To document. Dudes don't have it. Don't hate me, male reader, you know I'm right. You know it.

It's always a little weird to ask Daddy to take a picture of a tender spontaneous moment. "Hey babe? Can you go get the camera and take a pic of this amazingly sweet trifecta snuggle we have going on here? Oh wait forget it, they've run away" So despite my goals to get back into the pictures, it wasn't going all that great. Better, but not great.

Until now...

Because Mama got an iPhone and it does magic. So yeah, I'm several years behind the times, my friends. But I'm still extremely, overly and obnoxiously in love with my new iPhone. Because that little bedazzled and glittering box of love (I mean, I shouldn't have to tell you that my case sparkles, right?) is my new all-the-time camera. Mostly because my other camera has been lost for months but also because even if I find it someday, it won't be able to voodoo capture my mug with the kids like the iPhone can. And  we've got some photo shoots to catch up on...