Okay, maybe "do not care" is a little strong. Let me rephrase. As a documentary family photographer, the perfectly posed, everyone-smiling-at-the-camera photo destined for your annual holiday card isn't what truly drives me. It’s not what I believe holds the deepest, most lasting value for your family.

Don’t get me wrong, I love designing a holiday card and sending it out. It’s a nice way to share with family and friends how you’re doing and send them a note that you’re thinking of them. And sometimes it’s fun to coordinate outfits for at least and hour. I get it, and I’ll likely be sending one out myself.

But honestly, is that the kind of photo that will make your great-grandchild actually gasp when they stumble upon it 50 years later? It’s probably not the image that will transport you back to the untidy, heartfelt, chaos of this exact phase of your life when you stumble across it in an album or in print box decades later.

And at the very least, let them know how the great-grandparents set the vibe.

That holiday card photo? It’s a pleasantry. A social convention.

The photos I strive to create? They are your history. They are the visual threads that weave the story of your family, not just for you, but for generations you haven't even met yet.

Beyond the Pose: Capturing the little things

Documentary family photography isn't about manufacturing moments; I definitely don’t want you to look back at these photos and think, “hey, remember that time a stranger told us to look at each other and laugh?” It's about recognizing the beauty in your everyday routine. It’s about the unscripted interactions, the quiet connections, the laughing, the inevitable tears, and all the perfectly imperfect details that make your family uniquely yours.

Think about it:

The way your toddler’s hand fits perfectly inside yours as you walk down the street.
The toddler licking the spoon as you bake cookies together.
The concentrated frown on your partner’s face as they help with homework at the cluttered kitchen table.
The explosion of toys in the living room, evidence of all the play and work that went into the day.
The multiple bedtime stories and pleas for one more snack. nightly ritual that feels mundane but will be missed.
The specific way your teenager rolls their eyes, which, believe it or not, you will also miss someday.

Your story deserves to be told and the time goes by fast. They are often messy, sometimes challenging, always authentic. They capture the feeling of your life right now. Not just what you look like, but who you are together.

Building Your Family Archive, the real moments too

When I'm photographing a family, I'm thinking beyond a "pretty picture." I'm thinking about the archive. I'm considering what details will resonate years down the line (but don’t worry, we’ll pose for a photo or two for the grandparents :)

The wallpaper in your hallway that you’ll eventually change.
The worn patch on the arm of the sofa where Dad always sits.
The collection of drawings taped proudly to the refrigerator.
The favorite stuffed animal, threadbare from love.
The specific brand of cereal box sitting on the counter.

These details might seem trivial now, but they are the details of their childhood and your parenthood years. Some of my favorite childhood photos are at home, playing, maybe on vacation, maybe celebrating a birthday. For your children, looking back, these photos won't just show them what happened; they'll show them where it happened, how it felt to live in that space, surrounded by objects that anchored their childhood.

The holiday card photo shows a beautiful fun slightly curated presentation to your crew. Documentary photos capture the world you actually live and love.

Your family archives, beautifully captured.

Imagine your grandchildren, or even great-grandchildren, discovering these photos. What will they see? They won't just see ancestors smiling politely. They will see connection. They will see personality. They will witness the real dynamics, the inside jokes hinted at in a shared glance, the comforting chaos of a family meal, the tangible evidence of love expressed not in poses, but in presence.

They’ll see their grandmother not just as an older woman, but as a young mother, maybe looking slightly frazzled but deeply engaged, reading a story or wiping a sticky face. They’ll see their grandfather not just as he is now, but as a younger man, laughing, playing, building something in the backyard. These photos answer the question: What was life really like back then? What were they really like?

You’ve got a story to tell, and I know it’s a good one.

Choosing documentary family photography is an act of vulnerability, definitely. It means letting go perfection and embracing the wild messy days. But it's an act of love – for yourself, for your kiddos, and for the plot :)

Not just the highlight reel, but every little detail of your story.

So while your holiday card marks a moment in time, and they’re a lot of fun to send, I to capture the story of your time. Let's build a photo storybook of real life, exactly as it today.

That’s the story worth telling for generations to come.