What If My Kids Don’t Behave During Family Photos?
This is probably one of the most common things parents worry about before family photos.
“What if the kids don’t behave?”
Usually followed fairly quickly by:
“They’re not normally like this, I promise.”
And honestly?
It’s okay if they are.
Kids run away.
They refuse to look at me.
They get silly.
They cling to Mum or Dad.
They argue with their sibling.
They decide five minutes into the session that they have absolutely no interest in participating in whatever the adults have organised.
Sometimes I genuinely think it’s me.
There’s a strange lady with a camera asking them to do things, and everyone around them suddenly seems very invested in whether they smile correctly.
I’d probably be suspicious too.
I don’t need perfect behaviour. I just need a little time to work out who your child is and what works for them.
Please Don’t Spend the Whole Session Apologising for Them
Parents apologise to me constantly.
Sorry, they’re being silly.
Sorry, they won’t sit still.
Sorry, they’re not looking.
Sorry, they’re usually much better behaved than this.
You really don’t need to.
I photograph children for a living. I am not expecting your three-year-old to arrive, shake my hand, stand beautifully on a little mark and follow a detailed posing brief.
That would actually be slightly unsettling.
Some children are shy. Some will tell me their entire life story within eight minutes. Some will run everywhere. Some will decide I’m their new best friend, and others will make me work very hard for every tiny scrap of approval.
That’s all useful information to me.
I Usually Photograph the Kids First for a Reason
At planning appointments, I tell parents that I generally like to photograph the children individually near the beginning of the session.
Obviously I want those individual portraits.
But there’s another reason that’s probably even more important.
I’m trying to become their best friend.
I want to talk to them without Mum or Dad answering for them.
What do they love?
What show are they obsessed with?
What sport do they play?
What toy are they carrying everywhere at the moment?
What could they happily talk about for twenty minutes without taking a breath?
That little bit of time gives us a chance to build a relationship.
Then, hopefully, once we’re best friends, they’re much more willing to go along with the strange things I ask them to do later.
And this is also why I ask parents to do something that can be surprisingly hard:
Sit back and let me do my thing.
Mum and Dad, Your Job Is to Back Off a Little
I say this with enormous affection because I completely understand the instinct.
Your child isn’t looking at me. You can see it happening. Every fibre of your parenting body wants to jump in with:
“Look at the lady!”
“Smile!”
“Stop doing that.”
“Stand still.”
“Listen to Sam.”
Please resist.
Unless I ask for help, I prefer to manage it myself because I’m trying to build a relationship where your child is responding to me.
If every request is immediately followed by Mum or Dad correcting or coaxing them, the session can very quickly start feeling like something they’re in trouble for.
I need them to work out that I’m safe, I’m fairly ridiculous, and hanging out with me might actually be fun.
Give me a chance to win them over.
What If They Just Refuse?
Then we change tack.
There isn’t much value in repeatedly asking a child to do something they have very clearly decided they are not going to do.
Maybe we have a break.
Maybe I photograph their sibling.
Maybe instead of asking them to stand by themselves, I photograph them cuddled into Mum or Dad.
Maybe we do the whole family for a while, move somewhere else, or completely change what we’re doing.
Then, if it’s a photograph I really want to make sure we get — an individual portrait, a child with each parent, siblings together — I’ll usually circle back later.
A “no” at 3:10pm doesn’t necessarily mean it will still be a no at 3:40pm.
Especially if nobody turned it into a battle in between.
Bribery? Absolutely.
I am not above bribery.
An ice cream afterwards?
Excellent.
A ride on the City Park train once we’re finished?
Fantastic.
Something small to look forward to can work really well.
Where I become a lot less enthusiastic is when a reward turns into a threat.
“If you do this, we can get ice cream afterwards” feels very different to:
“Well, you’re not getting ice cream now because you’re not behaving.”
Once we start taking things away, the stakes suddenly get much higher and the photography session becomes the reason the child thinks their day has gone badly.
Positive bribery?
Completely on board.
Threatening to cancel their entire future because they wouldn’t smile at the nice lady?
Probably not.
If Your Child Has a Meltdown, The Photos Stop Mattering
If your child starts genuinely melting down, forget the photos for a minute.
Pick them up. Cuddle them. Give them some space. Have a snack. Go for a little walk. Whatever normally helps your child regulate.
I can’t make a lovely relaxed family photograph while your child is genuinely distressed, and I don’t want to.
There’s no prize for pushing through.
Give them what they need, and when they’re ready, we’ll work out where to go next.
Some Children Just Need More Time
If your child has sensory or communication differences, please tell me.
Not because I’m going to suddenly treat them like a completely different category of child. I just want useful information.
What do they love?
What makes them uncomfortable?
Is there something that helps them settle?
Do they need more time before I start asking things of them?
Is there a particular way of communicating that works better?
If they need extra time, they get extra time.
Most family sessions end up being around an hour because, realistically, by that point most young children have had enough of me anyway. But I don’t have a stopwatch waiting to declare that our allocated minutes are up.
If someone needs a slower beginning or a longer break, we work with that.
And Sometimes, Honestly, It Doesn’t Work
I think it’s important to say this too.
I have photographed a lot of children, and I am very comfortable working with them.
But I do not possess magical control over every child I meet.
Several years ago, I photographed a large extended family in the studio. Grandparents, their adult children and a whole collection of grandchildren had all come together.
One child wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.
He wouldn’t be photographed on his own, with his immediate family, with his grandparents or in the extended family photograph.
Eventually, he tucked himself into a corner of the studio with his face toward the wall and completely shut down.
Understandably, with so many people having made the effort to be there, everyone became increasingly invested in convincing him to participate.
They coaxed. They talked. They got frustrated.
And the more attention it received, the more firmly he dug his heels in.
Eventually we stopped.
We did not get the big extended family photograph that day.
The family came back the following weekend. He was very apologetic, we had another go, and we were able to photograph him with his family and get a beautiful photograph of the grandparents with their grandchildren.
It wasn’t the outcome everyone imagined when the original session was planned.
But continuing to push him that first day wasn’t going to fix it.
Sometimes the best thing we can do is stop turning one photograph into a battle.
I Understand Why Parents Get Stressed
And when it’s my own children?
Apparently all of my calm professional wisdom leaves my body.
My boys are busy.
“Busy” is the polite word.
We had our own family photos taken a couple of months ago and it was pure chaos. I was stressed, they were all over the place, and I completely understood why parents look at me during their own sessions with that slightly panicked expression.
When it’s your family and you care about the outcome, every little thing suddenly feels bigger.
Why won’t they just stand there?
Why are they suddenly doing THAT?
Why did I think this was a good idea?
I get it.
That’s why we talk about your children at the planning appointment first — their personalities, what they love, who takes time to warm up, and anything else that might help me connect with them.
Then on the day, you can mostly just be their parent.
And you know what? I now have a portrait of my 3 year old and the stick he refused to put down during the session on my wall…
And I love it.
Your Kids Don’t Need to Perform for Me
Your family photos are not a test of your parenting.
I am not quietly scoring your children’s behaviour.
I need them to be themselves, and it’s my job to know how to work with that.
Sometimes that means becoming their new best friend.
Sometimes it means changing the plan.
Sometimes it means giving them ten minutes and coming back.
And very occasionally, it means accepting that today simply isn’t the day for one particular photograph.
That’s family photography.
Real children. Real personalities. Real moods.
And somewhere amongst all of that chaos, we make photographs of the family you actually have.