We spent most of Saturday morning fishing through old photos of my biggest boy in hopes of locating something interesting to submit to the jr. high brunch slide show at school.

We sat around laughing at the moments captured through the toddler years with fingers up noses and the infamous naked child covered in bath time bubbles. We commented on the awkward pre-teen stages immersed with bad wardrobe choices and goofy faces, along with the photos rendering forced smiles with siblings locked arm in arm pretending that they never fight or argue.

We joked about which snapshots would be shown at graduation parties and wedding receptions and which had such bad quality that they should be destroyed. Good times.

I noticed a shear drop in photos as the children got older. My photo took, and has continued to take, a serious decline. I no longer load film through the back door of my Cannon Rebel and deliver the used cartridge to Costco in order to receive glossy pictures. I rely on the camera from my phone and a digital camera which mostly sits at home. Admittedly, I often rely on other people and family members to capture moments, and because of my inconsistency, my children have grown tired of faking smiles for photo moments. My photo box lies sparse. I am pathetic, and lazy.

It's true what they say about the youngest getting the least amount of photos taken, but it isn't right. I need to man up, get rid of my lazy pants, get out the camera, and start shooting an insane amount of pictures. Perhaps then, I can at least feel better about myself regardless of whether or not the photos that I take turn out well.