Real Mothers

I consider the education I seek, the degree I earned, the jobs I filled, the musical instruments I study, the hobbies I cultivate, the interests I pursue, the books I read, the very person I become; all these things have shaped me and informed and improved the mother I am.  - Katie Fillmore Craig

18 months ago our family had the privilege of being cast in a Google Fiber ad. The photographer for the shoot was Samantha Mitchell, originally out of L.A., but now living in Salt Lake. We loved her. A year later, out of the blue, she reached out to Katie.

“My friend, Alyson Aliano, is also a photographer. She's originally from New York, but she's living in L.A., and she’s working on a book called Real Mother. I told her about you. She’s going to be in Utah just before Thanksgiving. Could she come do a shoot with you?”

The inspiration for Real Mother came to Alyson after marrying her husband and becoming a stepmother to young twin girls. People continually asked her the same questions - "Aren’t you going to have children? Don’t you want to have your own children? You know, because you're not their real mom." This started her on a photo series exploring what it means to be a "real mom." You can see some of the original photos here and here. She is looking at getting it published into a book. And Katie is going to be in it!

Alyson showed up at our front door the day before Thanksgiving. Wednesday. The day the pies get baked. One of the smaller of our 8 children answered the door and let her in.

“Hi, I’m Alyson.”

“Hi, I’m Katie.” [Walking from the kitchen to the front door.]

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Nope.”

“No, I mean...do you have cousins or friends over or something?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand.”

“These are all mine.”

Blank stare from Alyson.

“I have 8 children.”

Continued blank stare. [Alyson is apparently, literally gobsmacked.]

“Did Samantha not tell you I had 8 children?”

According to Katie, Alyson had a look on her face like she was doing long division in her head. It was taking a while to process the words floating in the air between the two of them. But when they did, Alyson finally said, "This is the biggest family I've ever photographed." Katie couldn't tell if this was a good or bad thing, because Alyson still looked perplexed. Like, Italian-Queens-New-Yorker kind of perplexed. But then she confirmed, with the same no-nonsense inflection, "This just made my whole year."

These two women, from com-mm-plll-eee-tely different worlds (I cannot spread that word out over enough syllables to illustrate my point) connected, sharing the experiences of motherhood. All while Katie and the kids made pies for Thanksgiving.

I was at work and absent for the whole thing. I’m kind of sad, but kind of feel like it wouldn’t have been the same experience if I’d been there. And I love the experience for what it was.

Alyson left a questionnaire for Katie to fill out. It was no small thing for Katie. It's several pages long. She soul-searched and wrote answers and re-wrote them and finally sent them off, assuming Alyson would realistically use one or two answers. Alyson’s response? “I’m using everything you wrote. You will be the biggest family in the book and your voice is unique. I’m using everything from everyone.”

I’ve been married to Katie almost 20 years, and in reading her responses to these questions, I learned new things about her. I want our children to have copies of her answers as part of their own personal history records. I’m so happy for this experience. The book isn’t out yet, and I don’t want to make this a “spoiler,” so I’ll just share one of Katie’s answers.


What is motherhood for you? What is it like? How would you define it?

Motherhood is everything I do all day and into the night. It is snuggling my nursing baby’s sweaty head. It is staying up later than I had planned to listen to my 17 year-old tell me about someone at work. It is hearing “Mom!” and knowing whether it means my 3 year-old is ready to have her bum wiped or my 13 year-old finally got the LEDs on his arc reactor to work. It is cleaning up barf and urine and poo. It is answering the worst question (“What’s for dinner?”) and already knowing who’s excited and who’s in mourning. It is trying to react appropriately to missing socks and lost library books and big messes because I know I am always being watched. Motherhood is singing and crying and scolding and kissing. It is learning what a broken finger looks like and what pneumonia sounds like. It is spending a day making cookies with my 11 year-old and making a covered wagon with my 6 year-old. It is watching light saber fights and puppet shows and magic tricks and first dates. It is driving to auditions and try-outs and recitals and games. It is leaking milk through your shirt and wearing spit up on your shoulder. Motherhood is being hugged and scowled at and cried for and sneezed on. It is crying with your 15 year-old who feels friendless and laughing with your 9 year-old who got a joke. It is getting kids to practice the cello or piano or times tables or the Preamble.  It is trying to reason with a toddler. It is midnight prayers for a fever to break. It is births and miscarriages. It is a front row seat to the best and the worst of your own and your kids' emotions.  Mothering is the most important thing I will ever do with my time and my life. To me, motherhood is the most important work in society. I am creating and teaching and shaping the next generation. It’s messy, sweaty, and bloody and I choose it every day because I love it.  - Katie Fillmore Craig

This photo was in response to Alyson asking, "What else do you all like to do together?" and Katie responding, "We're practicing the hand chimes for a Christmas program." And so they played for Alyson. 

*Photos by Alyson Aliano

The Many Faces of Google

You may have heard that Google Fiber recently arrived in Provo, Utah. If you want to know what  exactly that means, read this short article by my friend and yours, Christian Faulconer (the David Letterman of Provo), who actually toured the Google Fiber facility.

My home was officially Google Fibered last week, so I'm a fan. But I'm probably also inclined because our family got to be a part of the ad campaign! And now, since you didn’t ask, I’d like to give you some “Behind the Scenes” of the Google ad. Some “The Making Of” goodies. Some DVD bonus features.

It all started when Google decided they needed a gi-normous family, in order to back up their slogan for Provo: Bigger Broadband for Bigger Families. Yup. That’s us. We are officially a family of 10. But at the time of filming, back in December 2013, we were still getting used to our size, as Hillary had been born only 3 weeks earlier. And it was mid-December with Christmas fast approaching. So, not to brag, but, you know...we were kind of out of our minds and barely keeping it together.

For example, I remember one Sunday morning my 8 year old came into my room to tell me he was ready for church. Judging by his pants, he was either anticipating a flood, or had grown 5 inches overnight. His white shirt - his white short-sleeve shirt in 22 degree weather - looked like it had been wadded up in a tennis-ball container since summer. His hair looked like it was in a fight with itself. We locked eyes, and without blinking, I said, “Lookin’ good, bud; go get in the car.”

So, back to our story, the ad folks from Google came out from San Francisco and showed up at our house the day before filming, so they could do that thing where directors make their fingers into squares so they have a “camera view” as they scan the area for what they plan to film. They were super nice and friendly and encouraging - which is how they tricked us into going through the hassle of taking down our Christmas decorations for the commercial.

The day of the shoot, two different crews were there from 9:30 a.m. to about 4:30 p.m. The morning was for the film crew who rearranged the house, set up lighting, wardrobe, make-up, etc. Meanwhile, I went to work for a couple of hours and came home around 11:00 a.m. When I pulled up to the house, it was a complete and awesome spectacle. I had to park down the street, as my house was surrounded by trucks, cars, and equipment. The garage was full of racks of clothing and craft services. I so badly wanted to know what the neighbors thought was going on.

I walked in the front door, and in addition to my family, the house was buzzing with another 25 people. The furniture was different, lights were everywhere, a woman I didn’t recognize walked by holding Lucy, my two-year old, and they were deep in conversation. Then I saw somebody I knew - my five-year old, Becca. She was already in new wardrobe and make-up, and my goodness - she was gorgeous. She looked like a movie star. She hugged my legs, careful not to wipe her lip gloss on my pants.

Our master bedroom had been converted into “the changing room,” and our daughters’ room had become “hair and make up,” with several salon chairs. Some poor man almost lost his mind trying to figure out if all the kids had been through both rooms and were ready. The house sounded like a dinner party and smelled like coffee. I met the creative director and account executive from the ad agency and part of the team from Google. Lots of handshakes, lots of “thank yous” ... they were really warm and lovely people. Full of genuine compliments about how great my children were. (And if you ever want to win somebody over, tell a dad that his kids are amazing.)

First we shot our portion of the commercial. That’s Katie and Garren at the kitchen table on a tablet - they are supposed to be doing homework, but they’re watching Thor 2 trailers. Then there’s Abbie on the laptop, emailing friends. And that’s Tanner, running from the kitchen to the couch, to join the rest of us who were watching The Avengers on a TV that isn't ours, but the kids desperately hoped was one of the perks of the job. So most of us just had to sit there, acting natural. (Hillary nailed it.) Except Tanner. He and the director had a special relationship. It went like this: The director would say, “Just one more time, Tanner.” And Tanner would whisper to me under his breath, “I just want to watch the movie.” This happened 23 times. He was a trooper.

Then we all broke for lunch. The film crew packed out their gear, and the stills crew packed in theirs. The producers materialized the most delicious craft services, but they also ordered a bunch of pizzas for my kids. My kids loved them for this.

Everybody was so kind. They interacted with my kids, we all told stories, they asked about my career and our family. It was clear that minds were blown and pants were pooped by the fact that we had 8 children and yet we were magically void of any meltdowns, spills, injuries, or wardrobe malfunctions. The gods of advertising smiled on us that day.

Then they took a family photo of us.

Then we did a photo shoot in our kitchen. Katie was in the front, holding a frame where the gifted designers would later superimpose our new family photo. Behind Katie were all our children - a mix of baking, cleaning, and playing with electronics. And that is the billboard currently making the scene all over Provo.

As the day was wrapping up the delightful wardrobe lady came over and told me that she was going to leave us the wardrobe used for the shoot. Awesome! Then they told us they were leaving the rest of the craft services with us because nobody wanted to haul the food away. Dinner is served! And the photographer said they would make sure we got the family photo.  Christmas in December!

Then, my favorite part. The gentleman from Google came over to me and said, “I’ve been watching your kids all day. My wife and I have an 18-month old...and we plan to have more. I watch your kids and I get excited - thinking of my children being as good of friends as yours are.”  And as fun and exhausting as the entire day was - that was the moment when my day was made. Yes, we are a big family. Yes, that often means things aren’t on time or wrinkle-free or at a low volume. But sometimes, against all odds, it means maybe you get to be a force for good in the world.