June turned 21 months old two days ago. Whenever I get frustrated that I could be doing more shooting, editing, submitting, etc. I try to stop and remind myself that I have a daughter who isn't even two and another who's four and-a-half and still over a year away from kindergarten. It's a relief in two ways: first, it takes some pressure off of myself to realize that I'm doing the best I can within a limited time frame; second, I haven't missed their childhoods--I'm in the thick of it, they're both small still, and even though time goes so fast I can hang on to June's chubby baby body and Edie's kooky little-kid observations (today she asked "why do we have such big big heads on such small necks?") for a while longer now. I'm always afraid I'm going to miss something, and yes, I can't believe in many ways my kids are as big as they are, but I have the grace of time, I haven't missed it yet--tomorrow and the next day and for a bit longer I can grasp onto knowing they're still really young. The difficult part is in recognizing this won't always be the case, and it makes me want to hold them even more tightly than I already do, every day, as often as possible.