Maybe it's because I am less patient with them than other children. Maybe it's because I take them for granted. Could be because I'm just exhausted when I'm chasing them all day. But there is no excuse. I need to be more intentional about capturing images of my own babies. My little girl is not a baby anymore. She is a four year old. Last night, while I was doing her laundry, I was thinking about the things that are gone. The way she used to sing the song from the "Filet-O-Fish" commercial and say "sannich" instead of sandwich. The way her sweet baby hair curled into perfect ringlets right at the base of her neck. Gone! Now she is four- sassy, independent, silly and wonderful. Yes, our children grow. And we certainly want them to grow up to be upstanding, moral members of society. But she will always be my baby, who couldn't pronounce "sm" or "sp" words correctly for a solid year, so that every time she'd say "smart", it came out as "fart".
She thinks she is so funny... cracks herself up. Do you have those moments with your kids where you're trying to be so serious, but they keep making you laugh? The story of my life. In the photo below, I had just received my new camera and was dying for some gorgeous shots of her. And of all the sweet smiles, this is my favorite image from those 5 minutes she let me take some pictures. Can't you just hear her laugh? Well, I can.
I have thousands of pictures of her. Thousands. From about 3 months to 12 months- because that is when she sat still. After that they start to drop off. And then there comes the second baby...
He terrified me from the start. The idea of having a second baby had been so romantic to begin with. Another addition to our family. Three become four. But slowly, I began to fear that I wouldn't be able to love another child as much as I loved my daughter. How could I? How could the amount of love I had for her be doubled? For this new stranger? How could I ever love anything as completely and unconditionally as I loved her?! And then, at 17 weeks during our ultrasound, there it was. I saw it the very second the ultrasound technician moved the wand to where we could get a peek at baby's bits and pieces. It's a boy. I had known it. My husband had known it. So why, for me, did it send a wave of terror? What do I know about boys? Would I be able to love him the same as my girl? As an only child, I was a little haunted by all of this; though, let me be clear- I was as thrilled, excited, in love and joyful as anyone else. Just unsure of myself.Clearly, the answer to "could I love another, and a boy?" was a resounding YES. I'm still amazed at how easily our hearts double to love another. He was perfect. Tons of fluffy hair, the same dimple as his daddy and big sister... perfect. Of course, being the second child, his baby book is not as well filled out. There are more holes in the photo timeline than his sister's. And he is growing up even faster than his sister did. My tiny baby boy is no longer tiny. He's a year and a half and only two months away from being a big brother. A big brother!! He is a total mama's boy, a hugger, a climber and such.a.boy. Photographing him is exhausting. He doesn't sit still. He doesn't smile for the camera. He isn't cooperative. But, my goodness, if he isn't beautiful.
I guess I didn't mean to make this post a novel... but just a reminder to myself, and to my fellow parents, that this time is fleeting. They're only this little once. It's a reminder to myself that instead of sighing deeply and cleaning up my kids' messes right away and with frustration, sometimes I just need to laugh a little and take a picture of those moments of "trouble" to remember when they're grown and "trouble" is so much less adorable.
It's a reminder to be more intentional about capturing these moments in time, that will soon be distant memories. So go ahead: take a picture- it will last longer!
