Why Annual Family Photos Are a Tradition Worth Keeping
So I'm gonna be honest with you. I didn't get it for years.
You live with your kids every day, so the changes feel gradual. Barely noticeable. Then you line up five years of photos and it's like watching one of those time-lapse videos. When did his face lose all that baby roundness? When did Emma get taller than me? Why does nobody look the same as they did in 2020?
That's the thing about time—it moves whether you're paying attention or not. And kids? They're shape-shifters. One year they're gap-toothed and silly, next year they're asking for Instagram accounts and eye-rolling at your jokes.
2020: everyone's wearing masks (yeah, we actually did that). 2021: we'd just gotten our rescue dog Benson who refused to look at the camera even once. 2022: Emma had just cut all her hair short and Jake was in his "I only wear basketball shorts" phase. 2023: we coordinated colors for the first time and actually pulled it off.
Each year captures a snapshot of our specific brand of chaos. The personalities, the stages, the random stuff happening in our lives right then. It's not just photos—it's documentation. Proof that we were here, together, figuring it out as we went.
Emma asks about it now. "When are we doing pictures this year? Can I pick my outfit?" Jake complains less (he still complains, don't get me wrong—he's eleven). But there's this moment during every session where everyone relaxes and we're just... us. Laughing at something dumb, teasing each other, being a family.
We get breakfast after. That's part of it now too. The whole morning becomes this annual ritual that's ours. And honestly? In a world where everyone's always staring at screens and doing their own thing, having something that forces us to show up together matters more than I expected.
There weren't enough. Not nearly enough. Tons of pictures of the kids, random vacation shots, whatever. But actual family portraits with all of us together? Maybe a handful over fifteen years. We'd always meant to do it more. Always planned to. You know how that goes.
I can't get those years back. Can't recreate photos we never took. So now I'm that person—the one scheduling sessions every single year, no excuses, no "we'll do it next year." Because eventually there won't be a next year. That sounds dark, but it's just reality.
Your future self needs these photos. Your kids will need them when they're showing their own children what Grandpa looked like, how Grandma used to style her hair, what your family was like back in 2025.
And if you work with someone good (plenty of talented people doing photography Richmond VA and nearby), they'll handle the hard part. They know how to get real smiles, how to work with kids who won't sit still, how to make it fun instead of painful.
But let me ask you this—how much did you spend on Christmas gifts last year? Or that vacation you took? Or the new TV you've been eyeing?
We spend money on temporary stuff constantly. Things that break, get used up, forgotten about. Photos last. They become more valuable as time goes on, not less. That session you book this year will mean exponentially more in ten years. In twenty. When you're grandparents showing your grandkids what their parents looked like as children.
It's not an expense. It's an investment in your family's history.
Do it anyway.
Book the session. Pick a date that works. Show up even if it's chaos. The imperfect moments make these photos yours. They tell your real story, not some filtered, polished version that doesn't actually exist.
This year, your family looks exactly like this. Next year it'll be different. Everyone a little older, a little changed. You can't pause time, but you can document it. You can create something tangible that says "we were here, we loved each other, we showed up."
Start the tradition if you haven't. Keep it going if you have. Schedule it before life gets too busy and another year slips away.
Because one day—maybe soon, maybe far from now—you'll be looking through these photos. And I promise you won't regret having too many. You'll only regret the ones you never took.
Every fall, my sister would post these gorgeous family photos—everyone matching, leaves falling, golden hour lighting, the whole nine yards. And I'd think, "Who has time for that?" Between soccer practice, work deadlines, and just keeping everyone fed and alive, scheduling a photo shoot felt like... I don't know, something for people with their lives way more together than mine.
Then 2019 hit different. My dad got sick. Really sick. And suddenly I'm frantically searching through my phone for recent pictures of him with the kids. You know what I found? Blurry snapshots from Thanksgiving. A few random selfies. Nothing good enough to print, to frame, to keep forever.
That's when it clicked. We started doing annual sessions after that. If you're in the area, there's some really talented folks doing family portraits Williamsburg VA who make the whole thing painless. Wish I'd started earlier, but better late than never, right?
Then 2019 hit different. My dad got sick. Really sick. And suddenly I'm frantically searching through my phone for recent pictures of him with the kids. You know what I found? Blurry snapshots from Thanksgiving. A few random selfies. Nothing good enough to print, to frame, to keep forever.
That's when it clicked. We started doing annual sessions after that. If you're in the area, there's some really talented folks doing family portraits Williamsburg VA who make the whole thing painless. Wish I'd started earlier, but better late than never, right?
Blink and They're Different People
My son Jake is eleven now. Last week he asked to shave. SHAVE. This kid who I swear was just learning to tie his shoes yesterday.You live with your kids every day, so the changes feel gradual. Barely noticeable. Then you line up five years of photos and it's like watching one of those time-lapse videos. When did his face lose all that baby roundness? When did Emma get taller than me? Why does nobody look the same as they did in 2020?
That's the thing about time—it moves whether you're paying attention or not. And kids? They're shape-shifters. One year they're gap-toothed and silly, next year they're asking for Instagram accounts and eye-rolling at your jokes.
We've Got a Visual Timeline Now
Looking at our collection of annual photos is wild. You can see our whole story play out.2020: everyone's wearing masks (yeah, we actually did that). 2021: we'd just gotten our rescue dog Benson who refused to look at the camera even once. 2022: Emma had just cut all her hair short and Jake was in his "I only wear basketball shorts" phase. 2023: we coordinated colors for the first time and actually pulled it off.
Each year captures a snapshot of our specific brand of chaos. The personalities, the stages, the random stuff happening in our lives right then. It's not just photos—it's documentation. Proof that we were here, together, figuring it out as we went.
It Actually Brought Us Closer
Weird thing happened. What started as "ugh, we have to do this" turned into something my kids actually look forward to.Emma asks about it now. "When are we doing pictures this year? Can I pick my outfit?" Jake complains less (he still complains, don't get me wrong—he's eleven). But there's this moment during every session where everyone relaxes and we're just... us. Laughing at something dumb, teasing each other, being a family.
We get breakfast after. That's part of it now too. The whole morning becomes this annual ritual that's ours. And honestly? In a world where everyone's always staring at screens and doing their own thing, having something that forces us to show up together matters more than I expected.
You'll Want These Later—Trust Me
After Dad died, we spent hours going through photos. Looking for the good ones, the ones that captured him being him.There weren't enough. Not nearly enough. Tons of pictures of the kids, random vacation shots, whatever. But actual family portraits with all of us together? Maybe a handful over fifteen years. We'd always meant to do it more. Always planned to. You know how that goes.
I can't get those years back. Can't recreate photos we never took. So now I'm that person—the one scheduling sessions every single year, no excuses, no "we'll do it next year." Because eventually there won't be a next year. That sounds dark, but it's just reality.
Your future self needs these photos. Your kids will need them when they're showing their own children what Grandpa looked like, how Grandma used to style her hair, what your family was like back in 2025.
It's Really Not That Hard
Hear, I get it. The idea of fighting everyone for prints sounds exhausting. Getting everyone dressed nicely, showing up nearly, hoping nothing has a meltdown. But then is the secret — it does not have to be some big product. Wear what you want. Let your toddler bring their favorite stuffed animal.However, whatever, If your teenager wants to wear their beaten- up Converse. The prints that count utmost are not the stiff, everyone- looks-perfect bones anyway. They are the bones where you can see your family's factual personality. The funny outtakes. The picture where someone's mid-laugh or making a face. Real life beats magazine-perfect every time.And if you work with someone good (plenty of talented people doing photography Richmond VA and nearby), they'll handle the hard part. They know how to get real smiles, how to work with kids who won't sit still, how to make it fun instead of painful.
The Money Thing? Yeah, About That
I'm not gonna pretend professional photos are cheap. They're not. You're looking at a few hundred bucks usually, depending on what you want.But let me ask you this—how much did you spend on Christmas gifts last year? Or that vacation you took? Or the new TV you've been eyeing?
We spend money on temporary stuff constantly. Things that break, get used up, forgotten about. Photos last. They become more valuable as time goes on, not less. That session you book this year will mean exponentially more in ten years. In twenty. When you're grandparents showing your grandkids what their parents looked like as children.
It's not an expense. It's an investment in your family's history.
Stop Overthinking It
There's never going to be a perfect time. Someone will always have braces or a bad haircut or be going through an awkward phase. Your house will never be completely organized. You'll never feel 100% ready.Do it anyway.
Book the session. Pick a date that works. Show up even if it's chaos. The imperfect moments make these photos yours. They tell your real story, not some filtered, polished version that doesn't actually exist.
This year, your family looks exactly like this. Next year it'll be different. Everyone a little older, a little changed. You can't pause time, but you can document it. You can create something tangible that says "we were here, we loved each other, we showed up."
Start the tradition if you haven't. Keep it going if you have. Schedule it before life gets too busy and another year slips away.
Because one day—maybe soon, maybe far from now—you'll be looking through these photos. And I promise you won't regret having too many. You'll only regret the ones you never took.
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