How to Actually Get in Family Photos

A Guide for Moms Who Are Always Behind the Camera

© Eric O. Ledermann.

You have 847 photos of your kids on your phone from the past three months. You know this because you just spent twenty minutes scrolling through them, smiling at the way your daughter’s face lights up when she laughs, the concentrated expression your son makes when he's building something, all those tiny moments you've been documenting like your life depends on it.

Here's what you also have: maybe three photos of yourself with them? And in two of those, you're making a face or half-cut out of the frame because someone else grabbed your phone and you weren't ready.

This isn't an accident. You're not in the photos because you're the one taking them. You're documenting everyone their childhood while essentially erasing yourself from the visual record of your own family.

I know you tell yourself it doesn't matter. That you don't need to be in pictures, that this time is about them, that you'll do it later when you've lost those last ten pounds or when you're wearing something other than the same three shirts you rotate through. I know you think your kids won't care, that they have enough photos, that what matters is being present in the actual moments, not worried about documenting yourself in them.

BUT HERE’S THE TRUTH: Your kids are going to want proof you were there!

Not just abstractly “present”, somewhere behind the camera. They're going to want to see your face. They're going to want to remember what you looked like during these years, how you held them, the way you looked at them. They're going to want to show their own children: this is my mom, this is what she looked like when I was small, this is how she loved me.

And right now, you're making it really hard for them to do that.

Why This Matters More Than You Think

I've photographed families for years, and I can tell you exactly what happens during the planning process. We talk about outfits. We talk about locations. We talk about timing and what the kids will tolerate and whether we should do golden hour or something earlier when everyone's in a better mood.

And then, almost without fail, mom will say something like: "I really just want good photos of the kids. I don't need to be in very many."

I can’t help but push back on this every single time.

Not because I'm trying to sell more photos or because I don't understand the desire to showcase your children. I push back because I've also photographed families who lost someone. I've had clients come to me desperate for portraits after a parent died, trying to find good photos of that person with their children, only to discover almost nothing exists. I've watched grown adults go through boxes of old pictures, finding hundreds of photos of themselves as kids but almost none with their mother because she was always the one behind the camera.

The absence becomes devastating. Not just sad—devastating. Because there's no going back to create those images. That person, in that moment, with those children at those ages, is gone.

Your kids don't need another picture of just them. They have those. What they don't have enough of is you. What they're going to ache for someday is proof that you were actually there in their childhood, not just orchestrating it from behind a lens.

The Real Reasons You Avoid Being Photographed

Let's be honest about what's actually happening here, because it's not really about being busy or forgetting to hand someone the camera.

You don't like how you look in photos. You see every flaw magnified. You compare yourself to some imaginary version of who you think you should be—the put-together mom with the styled hair and the outfit that wasn't pulled from the clean laundry basket this morning. You see the tiredness in your eyes, the weight you're carrying, the realness of this moment in your life, and you don't want that documented.

I understand this. I'm not going to tell you these feelings aren't valid or that you should just get over it. Body image issues and self-criticism are real (I know first-hand), and they're particularly brutal for mothers who've watched their bodies change through pregnancy, birth, nursing, and the general chaos of keeping small humans alive.

But here's what I need you to understand: the things you're criticizing about yourself in photos are not what your children see when they look at you.

They see the person who comforts them. They see safety. They see home. They see the face they love most in the world, exactly as it is right now (even when they’re not acting like it!). They're not cataloging your flaws or wishing you looked different. They just want you.

And a lifetime from now, when they pull out these photos, they're not going to think "wow, mom really needed to lose weight" or "her hair was a mess." They're going to think "I miss her, I need to call" or "I forgot how young she was" or "look how she's looking at me—you can see how much she loved me."

That's what they'll see, even if they don’t say it out loud. That's what matters.

How to Actually Make This Happen

Knowing you should be in more photos and actually making it happen are two different things. Here's how to close that gap without relying on willpower or suddenly becoming comfortable with how you look.

Make it automatic, not optional. Stop waiting until you feel like getting in front of the camera. You're never going to feel like it. Instead, create systems that don't require you to make a decision in the moment. When you hire a professional photographer, tell them explicitly: I need to be in at least half of these images. When your partner has the camera, ask them to take photos of you with the kids, not just the kids alone. Make it the default, not the exception.

Choose a photographer who understands this dynamic. Not all photographers are equally skilled at photographing women who are self-conscious about their appearance. You need someone who knows how to pose you in ways that feel natural but also build your confidence (okay, some of the poses might feel awkward, but they’re going to look amazing!), who understands angles and light and how to show you the way your family sees you. Someone who makes space for the fact that this might be uncomfortable for you without making you feel bad about that discomfort.

Wear something that makes you feel like yourself. This doesn't mean something fancy or trendy. It means something that feels comfortable in your actual body, that you don't have to think about or adjust constantly, that represents who you are right now. Your kids are going to remember you in the clothes you actually wear, not the outfit you bought specifically to look good in pictures. There's something beautiful about that authenticity.

Let go of perfection before the session even happens. The photos where you're laughing at something your kid just did, where your hair is a little messy because they just hugged you, where you're not perfectly posed but you're genuinely present—those are the ones you'll treasure. Those are the ones that actually capture this moment in your life. Stop trying to look like a catalog version of motherhood and let yourself be documented exactly as you are.

Focus on connection, not appearance. During sessions, I don't pose moms to look thinner or younger or more perfect. I pose them to highlight connection. The way you hold your daughter. The way your son leans into you. The look on your face when you're talking to them. That's what makes a portrait meaningful, not whether your outfit was perfectly coordinated or whether you'd lost those last ten pounds.

What You're Actually Preserving

Here's what being in photos with your children actually means: you're giving them a reminder of something they already know but might struggle to remember in detail as they get older.

Years from now, they'll be able to see not just what they looked like at six or ten or fourteen, but who was there with them. They'll see your face and remember things they didn't even know they'd forgotten. The way you smiled at them. How you looked during those years. The proof that you weren't just behind the camera—you were in their life, fully present, exactly as you were.

You're also giving yourself something. Right now, you might not think you need photos of yourself with your kids. But someday, when they're grown and gone and you're aching for these years, you're going to want to see proof too. Proof of who you were, that you were there, that they were small, that this beautiful, exhausting, fleeting chapter of your life actually happened.

The Session You're Avoiding

I get it. The idea of scheduling a professional photo session may feel overwhelming right now. You're thinking about the cost, the coordination, the stress of getting everyone ready and cooperative. You're thinking about your own discomfort with being photographed and whether it's really worth it.

Let me reframe what you're actually considering.

You're not just paying for pictures. You're investing in the only record your children will have of what their family looked like during these specific years. You're creating the heirloom portraits they'll pull out decades from now when they're showing their own children where they came from. You're giving them—and your future self—something irreplaceable.

And you're doing it with someone who understands that this might be hard for you. I structure sessions specifically so that you're not one of several families rushed through that day. You're the only one. We have time to get you comfortable, to let the kids warm up, to create images where you actually look like yourself instead of some stiff, posed version. We plan wardrobes together. We talk about locations that matter to your family. We make sure this experience doesn't add stress to your life—it removes it.

The sessions that focus on getting mom in the frame aren't an afterthought. They're planned, intentional, and designed around the understanding that you might need some help with this. And at the end of it, you'll have portraits on your walls that your children will grow up seeing every day. Not digital files buried on a hard drive somewhere. Actual printed images in your home, proof that this time happened and you were there.

What Your Kids Will Remember

Your daughter is going to be twenty-five someday. She's going to have a hard day. And she's going to pull up photos of her childhood and look for you. She's going to want to see your face, to remember what it felt like to be held by you, to see evidence that she was loved the way she remembers being loved.

Your son is going to be a parent. He's going to hold his own child and suddenly understand, in a way he couldn't before, what you gave him during these years. And he's going to want to show his kid: this is my mom, this is what she looked like when I was your age, this is who I became because of her.

They're going to want these images. They're going to need them.

So stop waiting until you feel ready. Stop waiting until you've lost weight or until life calms down or until you feel more photogenic. Get in the pictures now, exactly as you are, because this is the version of you they're going to want to remember.

This is the you they love.