There’s something about becoming a mom that makes ordinary moments feel permanent. It’s never the expensive toys or perfectly planned outings that stay burned into my memory the most. It’s the tiny moments that felt so normal at the time, but now somehow mean everything.
When I think about my oldest son, Kole, who is now 17, one of my favorite memories takes me right back to Bradley Lake Park. He was around 7 or 8 months old and just learning how to sit up on his own. It was one of those sunny Washington days where the grass felt warm and everything seemed calm for once. I remember sitting with him in the grass, looking through little board books while he chewed on teether toys and looked around at everything with wide-eyed curiosity. There was nothing extravagant about that day, but I can still picture it so clearly. Just me and my baby enjoying the sunshine together.
With Junior, who is now 15, my favorite memory is one I can still replay in my head perfectly. He used to stand at the baby gate near the front room door waiting for his dad to come home from work. He had the chunkiest little baby body, messy hair sticking everywhere, and these tiny little legs trying so hard to stand steady. The second he saw his dad walking up to the house, he would absolutely light up. Pure excitement. Pure joy. He’d bounce and squeal and get so giddy waiting for the door to open. It was such a simple daily routine, but those moments are stitched into my heart forever.
With MeMe, now 9, one of my favorite memories came during a really difficult season of life. After we had a house fire, we ended up living at the Holiday Inn Express & Suites Puyallup (Tacoma Area) for about a month while insurance worked on finding us an apartment. It was stressful and emotional and honestly not a season I’d ever want to relive. But right in the middle of all of that, she learned to walk. I can still see her toddling down the hotel corridor at barely a year old, so proud of herself. Somehow she made that hard season feel lighter. We also got to swim several times a week while we were there, and she absolutely loved it. Looking back now, it reminds me how kids can still find joy and magic even during the hardest moments.
And then there’s Evelina, who is now 2 and keeps us laughing nonstop. My favorite memories with her aren’t tied to one single day. It’s the randomness of who she is. Out of nowhere, she’ll suddenly decide she’s a flamingo and stand on one leg in the kitchen. Five minutes later she’s a kitty cat crawling around the house meowing at everyone. Then suddenly she’s a witch casting spells and turning the entire family into different animals. There’s never any warning or logic behind it. She just fully commits to whatever character she’s decided to become that day. Watching the imagination and confidence toddlers have is honestly one of the funniest and sweetest parts of motherhood.
Motherhood moves so fast. One day you’re carrying a diaper bag and wiping sticky hands, and somehow the next your babies are teenagers standing taller than you. But these little moments? They stay. They become the stories you replay in your mind years later when the house is quieter and the baby toys are long gone.
And honestly, I think that’s why photographs matter so much.
Not because life is perfect, but because it isn’t. Because sometimes the memories that matter most happen during ordinary afternoons at the park, standing at a baby gate waiting for dad, learning to walk in a hotel hallway, or pretending to be a flamingo in the middle of the kitchen.