A picture paints a thousand words, they say, so here are a few thousand words about my two eldest offspring. Captured on Athletics Day, with their school-pals, as summer lurks around the corner and their childhood lingers sweetly.
They are growing up at the speed of light (as kids do).
Thank goodness for digital photography, I say.
Remember the days of film and processing? You counted every snap, and crossed your fingers hoping you'd got something good on the roll.
Only the big moments were photographed. Everyday life passed by largely unrecorded.
Not any more. These days, thanks to technology, we can snap a hundred photos, capture a hundred moments of our children's lives in one afternoon.
Freeze-frame their world in a hundred ways.
(And then blog about it, so the world gets to see just how precious and lovely these mini humans are that we are attempting to raise.)
One day, in our dottage, when the grandchildren cluster round our feet asking "What was my mummy like when she was little?" we'll be able to bore them to tears/fascinate them with a thousand different moments from their parents' lives in living colour.
It will be as if they can peek into their past and gaze at their roots.
I've found that the memories caught on film are the ones our children remember the best.
If they watch that home-movie (of the trip to Fiji when they were one) enough times, it's as if they can really remember being there.
Chances are they will remember so much more of their childhood than we could of ours, thanks to the endless photo-snapping.
Our kids are having their everyday lives caught and preserved for the future. The memories will remain fresh, both for them and for us, and for the generations to come.
Can you imagine Ancestry.com in a hundred years?
Little Azariel G. will be asking, "I want to find out more about my great-grandad Scrag."
There he is. Oh look, he's potty training! Here's his 2nd birthday Wacky Wheels party. Awww, he used to lisp. How cute.
All you ever wanted to know and so much more. Recorded, captured, kept for posterity.
And when I am old(er) and gray(er) than I am now, when the inconceivable has finally happened and my nest is echoingly empty, all I need to do is call up this blog (in whatever form it exists in the future) and there will be my little ones, suspended in time. Their stories, their faces, their moments big and small.
Yay for technology, I say.