Why Is It So Hard to Photograph My Own Kids?

I can photograph your kids just fine. I know what to say. I know how to get the laugh. I know how to time the shot. I’ve got a whole arsenal of weird noises and dad jokes that absolutely slay with the under-12 crowd. But when it comes to my own kids? Yeah, they don’t care. Not even a little.

They see right through me. They know all my tricks. They know my fake laugh is fake. They know that "just one more" means I’m about to take 97 more. And they know that if they hold out long enough, I’ll break and offer candy. Which they will then refuse, just to watch me spiral.

Photographing your own kids is a losing battle. They don’t listen to me like they listen to our family photographer. I say, “Smile,” and they run in opposite directions. I say, “Stand by the tree,” and someone immediately climbs it. I say, “Don’t touch the mud,” and guess what we’re wearing five seconds later?

It’s not that they hate pictures. It’s that I’m Dad. I’m the bedtime guy. The snack wrangler. The one who says, “No, you can’t have ice cream before school.” They’ve seen me wear socks with holes and forget where I parked the car. They’re not impressed. And certainly not afraid.

There’s a real power in hiring a third-party photographer. When our family photographer, Frozen Weddings, shows up, it’s like someone sprinkled fairy dust on my kids. They smile. They pose. They listen. They act like functioning members of society. I stand behind the photographer wondering how she did in 10 minutes what I’ve tried to do for three straight days.

Truth is, photographing your own kids is emotional. You’re not just trying to get the shot. You’re trying to preserve a moment that feels like it’s flying past too fast. Every photo becomes a little high-stakes. You’re not just capturing their face — you’re holding onto your own memories. And the pressure? It shows.

Still, every once in a while, I catch one. A real moment. An unposed grin. A soft hug. A chocolate Pop-Tart stain I didn’t see until later. And I remember why I try. Why I’ll keep trying. Even if they refuse to wear matching outfits or mentally flip me off in the background.

Photographing your own kids is hard. It’s humbling. It’s frustrating. But it’s also kind of magical. Because someday, I’ll look back at these pictures and remember exactly what life felt like.

And then I’ll text our family photographer to schedule the real session.