If you’ve had a session with me recently, you know I am waddling around looking quite pregnant, expecting my fourth (what?!) child. Four children. So far that is three sleepy, wrinkly newborns, three first steps, three first words, three adorable curly heads, three first days of kindergarten, and so on. And all of them gone in the fastest blink of an eye. Almost ten years into this parenting gig and I am way too familiar with just how quickly and heartbreakingly they grow out of babyhood and into childhood.
But I am thankful. I am grateful to have thousands of moments tucked away to remember just how soft their little hands were, how they felt snuggled up in my arms,and how soft their downy baby hair was.
The portrait above was my son at 12 hours old. Those tiny baby hands have since been replaced with strong boy hands that would rather wield a wooden shield and sword for a play battle, or tinker on the floor with legos. The teeny little baby legs grew into hard knees covered in scrapes from tumbles while playing soccer, and his sleepy little face is now a big six year old kid, growing more and more into a Big Person every day.
These moments don’t last, even the moments when one minute deceptively feels like an hour. This is why I do what I do.