A pro vs. an average Joe for sons' studio portraits

My first camera was a Vivitar. The rectangular camera was a gift I received prior to my eighth-grade class trip.

The new camera proudly dangled from my belt loop as I stepped off the train into Washington, D.C. Attached by a thin black string, the camera had a flashbulb on one end and viewfinder on the other.

The 110-film cartridge was developed in a grocery store parking lot about a week later. The drive-up photo-processing stand was no bigger than a coat closet.

After a couple of days, the photos were ready. I tore into the paper envelope. About a third of the shots were overexposed. Another third were taken by accident, likely snapped by inadvertently sitting on the button. Another third were taken in the dark, the flash only picking up the red eyes of my classmates.

The whole trip produced one picture of the Washington monument and another of a freckled-face girl I would later take to my high school prom.

Technology has changed so much since then that it's almost unbelievable. Digital cameras allow even the most hopeless shutterbugs to get immediate feedback. Take a crappy shot? Delete it. Try again.

We've largely eliminated photo processing, too. I can print photos at home. And for those without a photo printer, Sam's Club will print your digital pictures for 11 cents each.

Because of this technology, I have never considered taking my two sons to a photo studio. I've updated my equipment since the Vivitar days, and professional shots often look posed.

However, my time behind the lens has dropped considerably since adding a second child. Baby Peter doesn't have nearly the amount of photos as his older brother, Bubba. And I have a better chance of photographing Bigfoot in a shower cap than getting both boys to sit together for a picture.

A coupon arrived in the mail last week, and I decided to give The Picture People in the mall a try. Dressed in khakis with buttons along the inseams, my boys arrived for the first appointment of the day.

Our photographer, Lynette, had plenty of tricks for getting 5-month-old Peter to smile. Getting 22-month-old Bubba to cooperate was another story.

Baiting him with raisins was a dead end, as was positioning him on a toddler scooter.

Though the group shot was a disaster, the individual shots turned out beautiful. They were softly lit, unlike my amateur shots where the overpowering flash inevitably bounces off their foreheads. The professional photos also brought out a glow in the boys' eyes, whereas my shots capture their eyes half open as if they just returned from a three-day bender.

Then, came the parting shot -- the cost. I figured these photos weren't cheap. I also knew I needed wallet shots for the family and some for Mother's Day.

The total came to $199.36.

For that kind of money, I could have bought my own umbrella lights, a backdrop, taken photo classes. ... Oh, who am I kidding? It was worth it.

Howard Ludwig is a former business writer who traded his reporter's notebook for a diaper bag, becoming a stay-at-home dad.