This is your season. A season of tears and sticky fingers pulling, pushing, pinching. Those tiny digits trace circles around your neck, they mark you. You are theirs and they are yours. Little routine forms like and dislikes are discovered. Teach and talk and teach and talk all day long. Some days you lay down and die, every day. But you rise with them and rejoice because these really are moments. They begin like the steam engine slowly, slowly, until once they pick up speed. Then they do not stop.
I spent the morning with Lesa and her adorable boys and it was a pleasure to capture this season for her: Saturday pancakes, play time, stories and swings. And of course naps, always naps:)
