Everybody's here.

The one week a year when the whole crew lands in the same zip code.
Let's make it count.

san diego extended family photographer

Some flew in. Some drove down from NorCal complaining about the 5. The cousins are already feral, the aunt is already telling the story, and for exactly one week, everyone you love is within twenty minutes of the same beach. Here's the thing you already know: the last photo of all of you together was taken at a wedding, seven years ago, by a DJ. As a grandmother myself, I'll just say it — get the photo. All of you, in one frame, on purpose.

One of my sons wore a Tigger costume — more or less continuously — for two and a half years. By the end, the feet came up to his knees. His sister spent that era signing her school papers "Hilary Duff's #1 fan." We remember all of it. But we barely photographed any of it, and I'd give a lot for one good frame of that Winnie-the-Pooh character eating breakfast. So consider this the session I wish I'd booked: the birthday, the cake, and whatever your kid currently refuses to take off, put down, or stop talking about. Little days now. The big ones, later.

The Photos I Wish We'd Taken

Where — the beach, a golden park, or the backyard where everyone's already gathered
Who
— the whole entire crew: newest baby to great-grandma, no size limit. Then every breakdown you want — each household, the original siblings, grandparents with just the grandkids, the cousins in a pile
The Plan — you build your shot list and combinations before anyone lands, big group first while everyone's fresh, and I keep the list so nobody gets forgotten and nobody stands around long. Organized chaos, emphasis on organized
When — whenever everyone's in town — holidays, reunions, the summer week. The secret is booking before the flights do
You get — a what-to-wear guide built for big groups (coordinated, not matching), one polished gallery every household can order from, and simple ordering of framed, delivered prints
Investment — sessions begin at $950

The Details

"How do you get nineteen people to cooperate?"
 I taught elementary school — a classroom of second-graders after a rainy-day recess is harder than any family, and I ran those for years. There's a plan, it moves fast, and yes, that includes your brother-in-law.

"What do we all wear?"
 Not matching shirts — I'll say it now so nobody prints any. My group style guide gives everyone a shared palette with room to be themselves, so the photo looks like a family, not a company retreat. Links included, shoppable from three different time zones.

"My parents can't stand for long."
Then they won't — we plan around comfort from the start: chairs that photograph beautifully, the big group done early, and all the grandparent combinations gathered gently around them rather than the other way around. Nobody performs. Everybody's taken care of.

"How does everyone get the photos?"
One gallery, shared with the whole family — every household picks their favorites and orders their own prints. Fair warning: the grandparents-with-all-the-grandkids one gets framed by everybody. It's the law.

"When should we book?"
The moment the reunion dates exist — ideally before the plane tickets. Good golden-hour weekends around the holidays go first, and "everyone's in town" is a window that doesn't reschedule.

Before You Ask —

"Our three-year-old refused to wear shoes and our seven-year-old refused to smile, and somehow the gallery looks like a magazine about a family much calmer than ours." 


— Erin, Kensington

Someday, this is the photograph everyone asks for a copy of. Take it while taking it is easy.

also worth a peek:
maternity & newborns · families