little man cub

Hello little man. Chunk-o-lunk. Look at you...you are ready for your photo shoot!


When my hubby saw this picture the first thing he noticed was his shirt...look how cute he is in his little collared shirt! I know! He's got personality written all over his face and that shirt just adds to his cute little man cub-ness.  I am so glad his mama asked me to come and snap some pictures of him before he moves away to another state. To spend some time with him yesterday was a delight.

Ok, just look at his perfect chubs.  And that skin is just the perfect baby skin.

We were looking for something to cuddle him into while he was doing his nudey shots and his mom pulled out a basket from her laundry room that she'd been wanting to take a picture of him in. It was perfect. I think he enjoyed being a little "free" for awhile. And I think this is the first baby that I have ever photographed that did not take advantage of the "freedom". We all stayed dry!

And then while he was still nako, we discovered the dimples. 

Why is it, I ask, that somewhere in our aging process we eventually come to despise the dimples in our derriere? So unfair. Can't we just all agree to embrace the dimples whatever the age? 

While he was returning to his diaper and clothes I caught him eyeing his airplanes.  (A boy and his airplanes...this must be where it starts!)

I then spotted all of his little things inside the closet. Burpies, blankies, washcloths...all a part of the newborn stash.

A little "mommy and me" time followed. This is my favorite picture of the entire bunch. It was the first one I spotted in my pass through of all the photos. Is she not just the most beautiful mama? I don't remember looking this beautiful with my first baby. I lived in a ponytail and an old t-shirt for weeks. I'd like a do-over please.

And then someone communicated very clearly that he wasn't haven't any of it...anymore.  But see, again, look how cute he is even when he's sad...

Apparently he was communicating his need for zzzzzzz's. Wrapped up tight in mama's arms was just what he needed. Can we all just take a look at those lips and chin? And the eyelashes? And that little nose?

His mom and I chatted for awhile and then his eyes fluttered open and his belly growled, ready to eat. 

This was one of the last pictures I took of our time together, a quick shot that I almost didn't take. When I came home and saw it I stopped and sat in my chair staring at it for quite some time. It reminded me so much of a picture my hubby snapped of me ten years ago: I am sitting on the couch holding my son who was a few weeks old. My hair is up in a pony tail, I am cradling him to my chest while he sleeps and my gaze is on the television. I was a brand new mom, the pen still wet on the chapter title of this next phase of my life. I was overwhelmed, tired, yet eager to love my son and do everything right. His clothes were organized, his burpies and diapers stacked, the baby car seat by the front door, the nursing journal and pillow at arms reach, the baby bag stocked. As hard as that first year was for me (a story of postpartum blues that one day I will tell) I see this picture above and wish for just one day of being back on the couch, holding my infant son, nursing him, watching him sleep. All I am asking for is just one day.  

Everybody tells you that the time flies, that your babies grow so fast. And it does. No matter how much you attempt to tether yourself to the here and now, the wheels of time move forward and loosen your grip. All you can do is hold your baby, your children, close your eyes, and take a deep inhale of their being. (And tell them to take their time in growing up.) This is how the moments are savored when we aren't worried about them fleeing. 

I am glad that just as I have my old photograph to remind me of the newness of my motherhood, my friend will have this picture to remind her as well. When her son is ten years old she will look back in on this moment and remind herself of what it felt like to be a new mother with the pages of the first chapter crisp and blank, ready for her to write the adventure upon.

And I do wish for her an amazing adventure. :)

xoxo

ps--I forgot to mention that this mama was my son's 3rd grade teacher. She knew him when he was eight. Eight and still my little boy.