The entire reason I began photographing my children was so I wouldn't forget.
I didn't want to forget the love my oldest had for her oveja (the sheep) and her manta (the blanket), nor the fact that they accompanied her everywhere she went.
I didn't want to forget what it looked like when my girls sat at the window, watching jets from the base fly overhead.
I wanted to remember how it felt to watch my husband and our oldest sing together (which was actually a front row seat to their love).
I wanted to remember this view, of my Airman walking with our youngest out to the car after an impromptu visit to his office.
I wanted (and needed!) to have a visual reminder that amidst the chaos and despite the imperfections, love thrived in our home.
I didn't want to forget my youngest's sweet chubby wrists, nor her curiosity during this stage of life.
I didn't want to forget small details of our life in Germany, like fleischwurst at every trip to Rewe and pretzels at the local bakery.
And I didn't want to forget what it felt like to be their mama.
Life with my daughters at the time these photos were taken was incredible, sweet, and short. I found such beauty in the normalcy of our life that I couldn't let escape my memory. I wanted, and at times needed, documentation of it.
So I took pictures. Lots of them. And I haven't stopped, really. Although our life is different now, it's still incredible, sweet, and short. I still don't want the beauty of these days to escape my memory.
In taking all of these photographs, I realized that these ordinary moments are what make our family tick. They're who we are. They're a part of our story.
The ordinary moments in your life are no different. Like these photos, those moments each tell their own story individually, but collectively they tell a masterpiece of a story...your story.
Whatever stage of life you're in, whatever your story consists of, it's worth remembering.
And I don't want you to forget it.