Running Through the Sprinkler

Summer brings on so many different activities and opportunities to remind us of childhood.  I love watching my children do things and feel like it is both flying by and going in slow motion all at once.   And then add in the element of documenting it through photography, and I am all in.  Earlier in the season, I came home to a bathtub full of wet clothes only to find out while I was gone to dinner with friends that my kids and husband had spent part of the evening running through the sprinkler.  To say I was sad to have missed it is probably not doing it justice.  So when my husband pulled out the sprinkler again a few days ago, I ran to grab my camera.  I don't want to ever forget these times.

 While working on this set, I realized it's the senses captured through documentary photography that always warm my heart.  The feel of the heat of the sun or the drops of the water on your skin or the air blowing by her arms as she runs.

 I can hear my son's prompting to go again.  And the giggles that ride on the air.  I remember how I smiled to listen to it all and having that sweet Mom moment in my heart.

My duo.  Eight and half years between them and they are still so close.  He leads her and she follows - mostly.  You know, those independent girls have to beat to their own rhythm sometimes.

 And that guy.  The one who is the root to most of the silliness and fun in our house.  Let's be honest, my stick would probably be stuck in concrete at this point if it wasn't for him.

So after countless runs through the sprinkler, drenched clothes, and a sun that had mostly disappeared beyond the horizon, the cold began to set in.  My kiddos ran to the side to decide if they were done or not.  This is when my son noticed that my daughter's hair was in strands to make it easy for braiding.  Since she has a love for all things Frozen, he asked if she wanted him to braid it like Elsa's.  So, while they awaited a towel, she shivered her little self into his lap and he braided away.

*Sigh.  I don't want to ever forget.

Until next time,