Recently, I spent a morning photographing a mom who truly understood this feeling. She’s photographer herself and realized she was capturing everything but it wasn’t the whole story. She had made a deliberate choice to step in front of mine. We started in the yard and gradually wandered toward the woods. Her baby was heavy and soft in her arms, content to be carried. Her four-year-old was barefoot within mili-seconds, pulling his mother’s dress, asking her to play with him, to come here, to watch this. His moods changed quickly, he got sulky. He is four after all.