I want to say this first- the sessions where parents tried the hardest to prepare the kids were sometimes the stiffest sessions I've ever photographed.
Not because the effort was wrong. Because the effort landed on the kids as pressure... and kids are remarkable little pressure detectors who will absolutely reflect back whatever the adults in the room are carrying.
I've watched it happen in real time. Mom gives the talk on the way over: best behavior, maybe a bribe, maybe a consequence waiting in the wings. She's done a lot of work and spent hard-earned money and she does not want to be the reason this doesn't go well. Dad is irritated about the whole idea, or at least mildly checked out (though I'll say, more and more dads are showing up ready to actually enjoy themselves, which I love to see). The kids climb out of the car already hesitant, already anxious, already trying not to disappoint anyone - for something they may have zero experience with, zero context for, and honestly zero investment in.
So mom is tense. Dad is tense because he doesn't want mom to be disappointed. The kids are feeding off all of it and have nowhere to put it.
Everyone steps out of the car already on edge.
I've talked about the warm-up phase, that first fifteen minutes or so where everyone is still performing, still figuring out what this is supposed to feel like. Starting a session wound up like that makes the warm-up phase a lot longer. Sometimes it never fully falls away at all. By the time we find any kind of rhythm, someone's been corrected six times, the kids feel disconnected and discouraged, and there's this anxious energy sitting over everything that nobody knows how to release.
There's a better way. I promise.
We're here to catch your family in their most natural moments... and that happens best when everyone is allowed to actually be themselves and move through the session on their own terms.
So. Let's talk about what actually helps.
If your session is on Saturday and you start talking about it Monday, you have given a five-year-old five full days to build expectations, ask questions, negotiate, and arrive on Saturday already exhausted by the concept.
Tell them the day before. Or the morning of. Something like: "We're going to hang out with a lady who takes pictures. She's really nice and it's going to be fun." That's it. That's the whole script.
You don't need to mention behaving. You don't need to mention smiling. You don't need to mention anything about how they need to cooperate. The moment you add instructions to the announcement, it becomes a test they can pass or fail... and kids who know they can fail a test will either perform stiffly or rebel entirely.
HOT TIP: If you think your child needs a little more help we can schedule a time when I show up, bring some cookies, play a game, and talk about the session day and how it'll go on kid terms. That way they get to know me before the camera ever comes out. Reach out to me if you want this to happen.
"You better not be difficult." "Please, for once, just be normal." "If you're good, we'll get ice cream after." (I know. I know. But save this one for after - we'll get to it.) "I really need this to go well."
All of those sentences are true feelings. I get it. But they transfer the weight of the session's success onto a seven-year-old, and that is too much for a seven-year-old to hold.
Your job that morning is to be the calmest person in the house. Not because you're performing calm, but because they will take their cues entirely from you. If you're anxious, they're anxious. If you're loose and easy, they usually land somewhere near there too.
But if something goes sideways that morning, see if you can let it roll off. Not every little thing needs a response on session day. Because whatever you're carrying when you step out of that car is what we're all going to be working through together for the first twenty minutes.
And, easier said than done, I know - but If the morning starts to feel like it's getting away from you, make it a game instead. Who can make someone laugh the loudest. Who can help someone else get ready. Who can love on each other the most between now and when we meet.
It sounds small. It isn't.
You're doing good. You really are.
A full meal before a session. A snack in your bag for during. This is not a suggestion - it is load-bearing preparation.
I cannot tell you how many sessions have turned a corner the moment I watched a parent quietly hand a kid a handful of crackers. The personality comes back. The eyes get brighter. The meltdown that was loading on the horizon just... dissipates.
Blood sugar is not a parenting concept... it's a human one. We all have it. We all get mean when it drops. Your kids just can't hide it as gracefully as you can.
But that brings us to - feed yourself too! Grab a snack for the road, maybe a little sweet treat to get that dopamine spiking!
Happy bellies are my favorite at home and during the session. Happy bellies are the difference between a session lasting an extra 10 minutes because we are in it and having fun or ending 10 minutes early because of total meltdowns that have now been egging on for the last 15.
Specifically: comfortable shoes. Or bare feet. I love bare feet.
Shoes that are new, tight, rubbing, or require socks that feel weird will steal your child's focus and probably mine too, because they'll be talking about their shoes every four minutes. Shoes they wear every day, or no shoes at all - those are the ones that disappear into the background and let us actually do what we're here to do.
Same energy applies to clothes, by the way. If the outfit is scratchy, stiff, or makes them feel unlike themselves - they will tell you constantly and they will show the camera in every photo.
Caveat: because I'm allowed to throw in caveats whenever I want, go see the Style Guide I put together and read about shoes. They will stick out like a sore thumb if everyone is dressed up more than a little casual and your kids are wearing their Gym shoes they wear every Tuesday and Thursday to school. So yes, comfortable shoes, but shoes that match the energy of the outfit.
You can absolutely use a reward. I am not here to have opinions about your parenting. But if you use it frame it as a celebration of the day, not a transaction for good behavior.
"After our session we're getting ice cream because it's a special day" lands totally differently than "if you cooperate you get ice cream." One is a party. One is a contract. Kids are better at sensing which one they're in than most adults give them credit for.
The first one makes the whole day feel like something worth having. Connection, time together, memories being made in real time. "Remember when you told that funny joke and we got that picture and then after we all went out for ice cream and you put some on your nose?"
That's the living life of a photograph. That's the memory that keeps the image alive long after it's printed and hung. Every time you pass by that wall art or pull out that album - you're not just seeing the laugh. You're remembering the joke that caused it. And the ice cream that turned an ordinary afternoon into something your family will still be talking about.
Breathe everlasting life into your photos by creating memories with them - not just for them.
I hear this a lot. "She's really shy." "He won't perform for the camera."
Here is what I've learned: what looks like camera-shyness is almost always awareness that someone wants something from them. Kids are deeply attuned to expectation. When they sense they're being asked to perform, something closes off.
My sessions aren't performances. I'm not asking them to look at me and smile (well, sometimes I do - but I wouldn't ask it of this kid). I'm asking them to do things: run toward something, show me their favorite corner of the house, tell me about their Legos, or what they've found in the dirt. And then I put my camera up and I wait.
The camera-shy kids almost always come around. Not because I charm them, sometimes I completely ignore them actually (strategically, not to be mean)... but because at some point they forget I'm trying to get anything from them at all.
Remember, we're catching moments with your littles, not taking photos of everyone paying attention to the camera.
Your job is to trust that and let me take my time. Resist the urge to prompt them toward me. Let them come. Lean into their snuggles. Plant kisses on their forehead. Whisper something in their ear. Hold them on your hip or over your shoulder so I can catch the peeks when they happen. Dance with them if that's what they need.
You're going to want to remember those moments too - when your little koala bear wouldn't let go.
Because one day, they will.
Also fine. Chaotic energy is workable energy. It's just a different kind of session - and honestly some of my favorite work has come out of sessions that looked, from the outside, like complete chaos.
The running, the jumping, the absolute refusal to hold still - those kids give me real movement, real expression, real everything. I'd rather have a wild session than a stiff one every single time.
But I'm going to ask two things of you if this feels like your kid:
First — lean into it. Play and run and jump and be with them. Experience all of it with them. I need you in the frame too, not on the sidelines watching your kid have fun without you. Otherwise we end up with a beautiful collection of pictures of your child and zero evidence that you were there.
Second — when we need to bring everyone back into the same space, help me reel them in gently. Not yelling, not correcting, that changes the entire mood and the memory of the session in ways that are hard to come back from. What we need is direction, not discipline. Maybe the game of tag becomes a tickle fest. Maybe it turns into a game of telephone. You know what works for your kid far better than a stranger with a camera does - and a stranger telling them what to do makes me the bad guy, which helps nobody.
Go to your kid or bring your kid to you. Connection and direction in the same frame... that's what we're after.
There will be a moment - maybe more than one - where nothing is going the way you pictured it. They're not cooperating, your redirects are making it worse, and you can feel the whole thing starting to unravel. You'll look at me with that look. I know the look.
Here's what I need you to do in that moment: stop. Take a breath. And remember that this is a child-led session in a child-led world.
Because what's actually happening right now: the chaos, the resistance, the complete refusal, that's not the session going wrong. That's the session being real. And the moment you stop trying to fix it and your actual mom instincts kick in, not the performing-for-the-camera ones, the real ones - that's when I get the photo you'll want on your wall for the next thirty years.
Connection. Curiosity. Kindness. Those three things, in whatever form they take in your family, are what I'm here to catch.
Trying to force something will make them feel worse, make you feel frustrated, and make me put my camera down because there's nothing there worth capturing yet. But the moment you let go of what you thought this was supposed to look like - there it is. Every time.
P.s. We get to take breaks whenever we want. You need it, I'll take it, and they will thank you for it.
You don't need to practice smiling at home. You don't need to show them my Instagram so they know what to expect. You don't need to spend the morning reviewing rules. You don't need to arrive having already negotiated with them for twenty minutes in the parking lot.
You need to arrive fed, in comfortable clothes, slightly early so nobody's rushing, and having told them once - briefly, simply - that today is a good day and that you are so excited for it.
That's it. The rest is mine to handle.
Your kids will follow your nervous system. If you're relaxed, they have permission to relax. If you're tense about whether they're behaving, they feel that tension and don't know what to do with it.
Come excited because that's how you felt when you booked this months ago.
I've never once looked at a chaotic moment in a session and thought "this family is a problem." I look at it and think: there they are. That's who they actually are. And that's exactly what we're here to find.
Come as you are. Bring them as they are.
I promise I'm going to see you and find the good stuff.
Okay, so hit reply or tell me in the comments - what is something you struggle with before or during your session, and what is something you know helps (or ask for help with it so we can all talk about it).
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