Most of our mornings look a lot like this. Minus the makeup, hair curled, cute outfit and dressed baby. Basically our mornings look a lot like this, bummed down version. They’re slow and easy and uncomplicated; just the two of us. and I really love it. It doesn’t hurt that lately Dawson has been such a joy, it seems we’ve broken through our communication barrier and are finally ‘getting’ each other and it feels so good. We’ve developed sort of a ‘we can do anything’ mentality and it’s invigorating, and fun, and endless. Although lately has been fun, It’s still a weird dichotomy watching your baby grow. One part of you is ecstatic about the newness of each phase, and the other part has to mourn the phase that was. Can I not have a baby and a toddler at the exact same time, please? Why must I give up this version of my baby, to enjoy the next version of him? I feel like I’m constantly trading up before I’m ready. I hope I’m not the only mother feeling like she’s missing what was, all while enjoying what is, if that’s even possible.
Anyways, I suppose thats where my love of photos comes in- Seriously, gimme all the family photos. If you’ve ever been to our home, you know it’s a thing. It freezes my baby in time, for me to always look back on his baby-ness, or toddler-ness, or whatever-it-be-ness, and just remember.
This wasn’t supposed to be a sappy post but sometimes, when you’re looking over photos like these while writing all cozied up on your couch watching reruns of Gilmore Girls, it just happens. Also, when your photographer is Alex of Daphne Mae Photography, the mushy feelings are inevitable because that’s just how good she is. I’m so thankful for these here shots in particular because they capture my boy and I in a place that we will be for a very very long time. This home of ours is one, finally done, and two, going to be where this little man grows up. For me personally, when I stumble across photos of myself as a child in the home I grew up, it brings back a flood of memories not even captured in the photo. It sets the tone for a context that really only we will ever know, and that there, is priceless.