Cherith came at the end of June, wielding her camera and her unique way of seeing the world. She photographed us at home, doing our ordinary things. She did for us the thing that I do for so many other families.
I bought zero new clothes for any member of the family, but we did tidy up a bit and give the boys haircuts so they wouldn't have mullets. We flirted with rain all day, but ultimately ended up with sun. The popsicles didn't freeze all the way so they became piles of frozen yum in the bottoms of dishes. The cat made himself scarce and so wasn't included as I had hoped. The children's feet were dirty and their toenails too long. The darn white floor in my kitchen was dirt smattered (per usual). Maeve wouldn't go down for a nap in her crib, so she slept on Tim for half the session. My belly still pokes out because I haven't made efforts to shrink it back down postpartum. I look through these photos and see a million wonderful imperfections. This is the stuff that we are made of, the messes that drive me nuts, the conflicts that make me raise my voice... and all of it nearly brings me to tears. I'm so grateful.
Thank you a million times over, Cherith, for the gift of these photos. I can't wait to make them into a big old album and gaze at them for lots of years.
