I love to take pictures. Like, love. Ask anyone in my family. Itís actually become a bit of an obsession. Not because I have to capture every sunset or azalea or cormorant that I see, because I donít. And not because I aspire to be an amateur photographer, because thatís not even on my radar. I take lots of pictures of my family because I want to capture moments ó moments when my girls are actually being civil to each other or when one of them is snuggling with the dog or, oh, I donít know, when theyíre being particularly sweet to me.

Unfortunately for me, though, my kids arenít exactly what youíd call entertained by my requests to snap photos of them. In fact, they hate when I have my phone in my hand and itís elevated within any vague proximity of my face. Because they know. They know that Iím secretly trying to seize a moment. And it drives them insane. IN-sane.

Now, itís not like Iím going to make life-sized photo cutouts of them at Staples and put them on the front lawn. And Iím certainly not going to make our family holiday card out of a cute shot of the girls walking through the mall with Dave. I just treasure special moments more than just about anything. And because we happen to live in a world where most of us have the ability to capture said moments at any given second thanks to cell phone cameras, I use the technology to my advantage whenever I can. The problem is, they rebel. Every time.

Weíve actually gotten into arguments because Iíve asked to take their picture. Either they didnít want to because their hair doesnít look right or their makeup isnít on-point or they think they hate the outfit theyíre wearing. Thereís never a good time. Yet (and this is what absolutely kills me), theyíre constantly taking the most ridiculous looking, unflattering selfies or Instagram pictures of themselves 24-hours-a-day. And theyíre posting them on every social media feed that they have. Itís like the epitome of hypocrisy.

Theyíre Snapchatting the dumbest, most absurd pictures of themselves with their faces swapped or with long, dangly dog ears superimposed over their heads and theyíre sending them to all their friends, yet if I ask for a quick shot they react like I just killed the family dog.

Iíve watched them photograph themselves from the worst possible angle with the worst possible lighting, looking absolutely heinous, yet they canít strike a cute pose for me when I ask them. And Iím not sure I can take it much longer.

I ask for very little as a mother. Sure, I ask for all the standard stuff, like good behavior, good effort in school, kindness, and sporadic cleaning of a bedroom; but aside from that, Iím pretty low maintenance. I ask for very little. No one needs to get me a birthday gift or a Chanukah present or shower me with special treatment. All I want is to be able to freeze a meaningful spec of time in a photo thatís meant just for me. Something I can look at months or years later that brings me back to that moment.

But noooooooo, thatís too much to ask because I get push-back every single time. And I donít get it. Iíve learned the Parent-Child-Social-Media Code. I know better than to ever, ever post a photo of my kids on Facebook without obtaining prior approval. (Made that big mistake a few times and lived to regret it.) So I get it. I know how the arrangement works. Which is exactly why I always give my girls the assurance and the promise that any photos I take are for my eyes only unless otherwise specified. And while that occasionally works ó usually when they want something from me really, really badly ó itís not foolproof.

I just want to be able to take pictures of my kids without having to make absurd threats like ďno carĒ or ďIím shutting off your cellphone service if you donít get over here.Ē Is it really that much to ask?

See, what my kids (most kids) donít understand is that thereís a major shift that happens when we become a parent. Every moment with our newborn or toddler or tween becomes capturable. And every little smile or sweet encounter or cute haircut has the potential to be one of those moments. And as the people who take care of them day in and day out, I think we deserve to be able to capture them any time we want.

Sadly, though, it doesnít often work that way. So for now, Iíll just keep using threats to get them to hold still. Eventually, though, when they have their own kids, theyíll understand. Unfortunately for me, my age spots will be way more obvious on film by then. Cycle of life, right?

ó Lisa Sugarman lives just north of Boston, Massachusetts. Read and discuss all her columns at www.lisasugarman.com. She is also the author of LIFE: It Is What It Is available on Amazon.com and at select Whole Foods Market stores.