Jason & Sarah's Family

It's a fine-balance with social media these days. It engulfs in so many ways, as long as a phone or computer are part of our daily routine. Just as it feels all-encompassing, it also serves its purpose. A few years ago, I met Sarah through Instagram. She's a talented birth & family photographer in Fairbanks. A few weeks ago, I got to meet her in-person. It was wonderful spending the afternoon with her and her family, in-between hockey tournament games. Their warm, cozy home opened its arms to me, filled to the brim with childhood- the curiosity, the creative, the chaos, the calm. I left content, knowing that social media made this real-life connection happen. I also left with a pan of delicious chocolate brownies, allergy-friendly, something else we share and also discovered from social media.

Sarah and family.

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Saturday Morning

I hope one day my children look back on images of their childhood and find themselves instantly transported to this carefree time. I hope all their senses are elevated, to feel all the feels of home. I hope they smell the warm biscuits and warm air, on a Saturday morning. I hope they feel my fingers running through their hair. I hope they feel my warm embrace. I hope all of this because images have the power to do this.

Motherhood on a saturday morning.

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Sunday

I remember the soft white dress my mom wore in the photograph, on the cusp of birth. There was a soft fuzz to the image, her friend laughed, "is my eye-sight going, or is this supposed to be out of focus?" The softness spoke to the moment, as she awaited becoming a mother the third time. 

Each time is so different, just as each child is full of new emotions, adventures, trials and successes. The first-born seems to be the trial run, the experiment. Those early years with them, you start navigating parenting. Then the second child arrives and you discover your heart expands with all the love in the world for them, just as it did the first time around. You continue sailing through unchartered territory, admiring these children you call your own, when years from now you reminisce about these times, holding that photograph close, when you were eagerly on the dawn of your second-born.