31 December 2016

A portrait of my babes on the last day of the year, 2014 (1 year, 5 months)

A portrait of my babes on the last day of the year, 2015 (2 years, 5 months)

A portrait of my babes on the last day of the year, 2016 (3 years, 5 months)

How wonderful each year with you is. 

52/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 (3 years, 5 months)

We spent our Christmas holiday with our whole family on the Natal coast. I get nostalgic returning here – the smells of the tropical vegetation under foot as you make your way down to the beach through a jungle-like canopy, the sticky feeling of salt water drying on your skin, and the sight of tropical leaves lining every street bring back so many memories as we create new ones with you. Our barefoot days were spent going to the beach with the kids piled in the boot of the car amongst umbrellas and boogie boards and buckets, dips in the pool, late afternoon walks on the golf course, long swims in the sea, and and early mornings with the smell of the ocean and suncream more than hinting at what the day will hold.

My favourite thing about holidays is the carefree days. Shoes are abandoned before breakfast,  naps are a little bit longer, cousins are joined at the hip as endless play takes them from the house to the beach and back again, fingers are always a little sticky from big, fat litchis or home made mice pies or a bowl of Christmas pudding ice-cream. The smell of sun block permeates the air. Until it rains. And we watched the storm roll in  from across the ocean and blow away our towels hanging over the balcony. Until the next morning when the world appears new and we begin our beach rituals all over again in a cycle of endless days, rolling into one long and happy memory of bare-bodied babes, and ocean swims, and salty hair and sand at the bottom of the bath, and the deepest sleeps from all the fresh air. 

51/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 (3 years, 4 months)

Our family at Human and Honor's birthday celebration. You are my everything.

50/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 (3 years, 4 months)

Gathering flowers in the garden. You love to make posies which you hand to me with great pride. 

"Each of us is like a seed, planted by the Good Gardener so we might grow into something majestic." Seth Adam Smith

49/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 (3 years, 4 months)

Oh my, how beautifully and quickly you are growing my little lights. Sometimes when you wake up in the morning your faces have changed slightly, or I catch a glimpse of you during the day, usually from a distance and you've lost a bit of baby-ness. And yet, when I search for a change, it is impossible to pinpoint exactly where or how it has occurred. Growing is strange like that.

48/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 (3 years, 4 months)

Our annual Christmas card photograph. 

47/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 (3 years, 3 months)

Christmas craft. Doing arts and raft with you inspires me to be more creative. I love watching how you use colour, or position objects, or draw shapes, completely uninhibited by any social contracts and rules that we somehow learn along the way and forget how to unlearn. Thank-you for teaching me to colour outside the lines, sprinkle too much glitter, and see fantastical stories in the most basic scribbles.