Since we transferred to a school that's not in our neighborhood, I have to drop off and pick up every day. It means that the little siblings have to get used to spending some time in the car every morning and afternoon. When the babies are small, they nap while we wait in line. Fiona sometimes "reads," sometimes plays in her carseat, and sometimes whines that she needs to get out of her seat because she can't wait that long. This was one of those days. She insisted on being in the front seat, snacking on a packet of cashews she found in the car, and sticking her head out of the sunroof. It was a beautiful day, and before long we'll be trapped, huddling inside for warmth and definitely NOT opening any sunroofs. So I agreed.

He's always glad to have you back when you've been away. And you, sweet loving big sister that you are, cry when you tell me how much you miss him. Even being away from him when you're at school is hard for you, and you tell Fiona how jealous you are that she gets to be with him all day long.

And another year of our annual college reunion weekend is in the books. One of the reasons that we bought a house as big as we did when we moved back to Ann Arbor was that your Daddy really looked forward to entertaining friends. He looks forward to choosing a football weekend in the fall and opening our house to friends all year long. This year, the football was less fun than usual, for sure. But friends were here, and that's more important than football. Blasphemy, I know...;)

We do not have babies with lots of hair. That is just not something that your dad and I have in our genes, apparently. Our little ones, and you are no exception, spend their first year very close to bald, with just the softest fuzz on those little heads. Now, though, you are growing curls. With your sisters, I was in no hurry for haircuts. Fiona never got one until she was four, actually. With you I imagine it will be different, I'll be figuring out a boy style long before you're four. But it will sting to cut away the curls, and for now I'm enjoying every crazy, soft, wild swirl on your baby head.

This is the ninth in a 12 month series of letters written to my children. I'm so excited (and honored) to be a part of this great project with a group of fellow photographers and moms. The next up in our circle is my friend Val. Click here to read her letter to her sons.

"If one does not lie back & sum up & say to the moment, this very moment, stay you are so fair, what will be one's gain, dying? No: stay, this moment. No one ever says that enough." From Virginia Woolf's diary December 31, 1932

"...photography, alone of the arts, seems perfected to serve the desire humans have for a moment--this very moment--to stay." Sam Abell, Stay This Moment 1990

Dear Saoirse, Rowan, Fiona, and Liam-

Sometimes friends of mine who are mothers and photographers talk about their kids not liking to be photographed. They talk about a conflict between motherhood and art, which can be a problem when your subjects are also your children. I've heard them say things like, "I don't want my children to remember me with a camera always in my hand." Although I know what they mean, I disagree. I'm okay with that. I think you'll remember that I very frequently had a camera in my hand, and if not, then a book. But maybe it will seem different to you. Maybe someday you will wonder why I didn't put down the camera. So if I don't get another chance to tell you why, this is why. There are so many moments with all of you that I just can't bear to let pass into oblivion without at least trying to hold them still. I want you to see all of this, and know in your heart of hearts that I just loved you so much that I wanted to save, and celebrate, as much as I could. It would make me happiest if you would understand this passion of mine the way I do...as love letters to you, and to this life of mine that you make so full.

Love always, Mama

When Grandma and Grandpa decided to buy Rowan and Saoirse scooters for their birthday this year, they debated whether you would even want one. You're littler, and they didn't know whether you would be able to ride one, and whether you wouldn't like something else more. I am so glad they got you one, too, because the truth is you love your scooter even more than your sisters love theirs. You are fast, and confident. And you use the brake just for fun, really, because you love sliding to a stop. On this morning, you insisted on a walk in your neighborhood so that you could get some time on your scooter. It was such a beautiful fall morning, foggy and mild, that I wasn't sorry to agree to it. I pushed Liam in his red car behind you as you sped ahead, stopping every now and then and turning back to wait for us. "You are the monster, Mom, you have to try to get me!" And then as I got close, growling at you and reaching out, you'd turn your back and speed away, laughing. "You'll never catch me, monster!"

We're out for ice cream after dinner again. We have a few options for ice cream dessert runs. There's Dairy Queen, which is close enough to ride bikes to, but that's only open for 6-7 months. There's the Washtenaw Dairy, where I get Superman ice cream and Saoirse hopes for lemon custard (even though she hates actual custard). There's the new Blank Slate, which costs twice as much as anywhere else and has fancy flavors like salted caramel and cherry-vanilla. And then there's Baskin Robbins. When I was Fiona's age, Baskin Robbins was the ice cream place my family went to. The last few times, Fiona has even ordered Daiquiri Ice, which was one of my favorite flavors at her age.

Saoirse chose this Spiderman figure for one of her birthday gifts this Spring. After she brought it home, she said to Chris, "Dad, aren't you so excited about my Spiderman? You can play with him when I'm not home." Spiderman has been very popular since he joined us. Here he is being your "husband," which is a not uncommon sight. This reminds me that all of you girls seem to think that dancing together is what makes you married. When you play wedding, you say that now you'll marry each other...and then you slow dance around. There are no vows in your weddings. He's a little stiff on the dance floor, but you seem very happy together.

Fiona started taking preschool classes at the Nature Center this fall, like her sisters did before her. In my mind, it really hasn't been long since I used to pick up the big girls, with baby Fiona in tow. Now Liam is the little sibling on the edge of the crowd, wanting to be one of the big kids. In the blink of an eye, it will be his turn.

Two for the price of one, today. Morning on top, afternoon on the bottom. This is the second day in the last two weeks that Rowan has stayed home from school because of puking. The second morning that she has spent napping on that couch, bucket close by in case she needs it. Both days, she rallied in the afternoon. So once I was pretty sure we weren't in for any more vomiting, we made a trip to the grocery store, where Liam was entertained by Rowan wearing a plastic bowl from the salad bowl for a helmet and Fiona did the splits.

Although we have a family dinner every night, at twelve months that usually means that you are in a high chair, eating some small part of what we do. Something we can cut up small, and you can manage with eight teeth (all in the front). But at the end of this meal, you made it very clear that you were not happy with that arrangement. You wanted to be in a chair like everyone else, and you wanted some of those whole, raw baby carrots that your big sister was eating. Daddy (as he does) indulged you.

Texting with Sol during the Michigan game. This is one of those things that will always seem normal to you kids, I think, but that was not always the norm for us. There was a time when watching the Michigan game meant watching it with whoever was physically in the house. And then, when cell phones got more common, sometimes commercial breaks were opportunities for Chris and Sol to check in with each other, analyze, commiserate, celebrate. "Did you see that?!" Now that unlimited texting is ubiquitous, it is constant. As soon as the game starts, the texts start pinging in from the group text that Sol is part of every single football Saturday.

Eating at restaurants with children can be such a struggle. I have always really liked having dinners out, and have been so determined to keep it up even with children. There are times, though, that it just doesn't seem worth the trips to the bathroom, the over-priced chicken fingers and fries, the mischief caused by boredom and hungry waiting. This particular night was one of those, although from this peaceful scene of coloring you'd never know it.

This is not a view I'm used to. Sleep has not come easy to my babies, and I'm used to it being a battle. A thorn in my side. A test of my endurance. And theirs, I suppose. You seemed not all that different, you slept next to me, woke in the night a few times. Not the best sleeper in the house, not the worst. Then one night last month your big sisters were out of town and your dad announced that this was the time to try sleeping in your crib. I scoffed, swore it wouldn't work. Assured him that he was overly optimistic. But I agreed that he could give it a shot. Less than ten minutes later he was back, smugly stating that you were out. Done. "It won't last," I said. But I was wrong. You still wake up, towards morning though. Mostly I get 6 hours, maybe more, of uninterrupted baby free time. I nurse you, take you in your room, and lay you in your crib. Sometimes you whine for a bit while one of us rubs your back and sings. Sometimes not even that. And then you're out. Every single time, I feel like cheering. What a gift for us, here at the end of our baby days. Just like you. :)

At your yearly checkup, Rowan and Saoirse. Some day I suppose you'll want to go to the doctor alone. But for now, it's a group effort. Liam crawls on the floor under the exam table, all three of you sit up there even though you're not being the patient. And I try to answer questions and keep track of what the doctor is telling me in the middle of the chaos. Total insanity. And a perfect example of how lucky we are, every year when your checkup shows again that you are perfectly healthy, thriving children...which is easy to take for granted until I reflect for a minute and remember that this was not promised, and certainly not guaranteed on the day you arrived, weighing less put together than that little sister of your did all by herself.

We are a "dessert every night" family. I know, I know, sometimes I feel guilty about it and swear that we're going to start making it more of a special occasion thing. Maybe make you eat fresh fruit for dessert. But since you eat so much fresh fruit anyway, and I love dessert as much (or more) than you do...it never goes anywhere. You guys are frequently totally content to raid the pantry for leftover Halloween candy, or something like that. But every now and then you ask at dinner, "Can we go out for ice cream tonight?" And if you're lucky, we agree. Tonight it was Baskin Robbins, and you chose Daiquiri Ice, which always makes me nostalgic. I used to have one scoop of Daiquiri Ice and one scoop of chocolate peanut butter, for years as a kid that was my order. You guys switch it up much more than I did. Except for Rowan, she's always chocolate. Chocolate fudge brownie, double chocolate, just plain chocolate if all else fails. Sometimes when we're having ice cream I think of my Grandpa Hales. He had such a sweet tooth, there was always ice cream in big tubs in the basement freezer. He'd give me bowls of chocolate ice cream on the coffee table in front of the TV at night when I stayed overnight there. In my mind, I imagine him giving my kids bowls of chocolate ice cream. He would be so thrilled, and you guys would've loved him.

Some days I feel like all you girls do is fight. I have quite a few friends with twins, and read about even more. And sometimes people post pictures of their twins doing things that are so obviously "twinny," and it makes me sigh a little. You two don't sneak into each other's beds at night, never did. You never had some secret twin language. You're totally fine being in separate classrooms at school. You are SO different, in so many ways. I remember watching a talk show when I was pregnant with the two of you with a set of twin sisters who didn't get along. In their case, it was that one twin wanted to be closer, but one wanted nothing to do with the other. She moved away, cut and dyed her hair, didn't tell people she was a twin. It made me so sad. Every now and then I worry, when you fight, that you won't be close. And, having started out together, that seems even sadder to me than if you were just ordinary sisters. But then...there are times like these. Just before bed, silliness between the two of you that feeds itself, and you are totally in sync again. I hope to still be seeing this scene in 10, 20...as many years as I'm able.

Sometimes I think you get shortchanged, having such an introvert for a mama. It means I don't go out of my way all that often to make social engagements for you. I rarely even think of it, we entertain ourselves and pass the time. And, frankly, just our crew seems like a lot of people (and noise) to me. But this summer, one day the doorbell rang, and I didn't even ignore it. ;) Lucky for you, because it turned out to be our neighbors down the street, with two little girls for you to play with. You loved running around with them that night, in and out of our sprinkler. And several times over the rest of the summer, Z and V would stop by and ask if you could come outside and play. Scooter rides, sprinkler runs, and a lot of chasing games ensued. When you girls caught this little guy today, you wanted to know if you could take him down the road to see your friends, remembering them bringing you tiny frogs earlier this year. We did make the walk down there, although they weren't there this time. It's strange, and amazing, and hard (to be honest) for me to see you guys making your world bigger, bit by bit.

If I had to name one obsession that has defined my life, it would be reading. I dreamed of reading to, and then with, my own kids. But when it came time for you, Rowan and Saoirse, to learn to read...well, it seemed that you did not share my enthusiasm. Listening to stories, sure. But reading? You fought. I worried that I had wanted it too much, poisoned it for you, claimed it so thoroughly as my own that there was no room for you. I should have known you'd find your way, and that it would be (like so much else about parenting) both exactly what I wanted and nothing like I imagined. You discovered graphic novels and comic books this year, and you are hooked. Me? I prefer my books old fashioned, narrative, with nothing but words (the more the better). But you especially, Saoirse, cannot get enough of graphic novels. You tell me that they're more like real life, because you hear what people are saying, "without all that he says, she told me stuff." I've gotten an education in graphic novels this year. Who would have thought you'd love books about a few bones that speak, slay dragons, and get run out of town for swindling?

You love this shopping cart so much, Liam. I love to watch you load little toys into the basket, then push it around, careening across the slippery wooden floor. Sometimes you let go and stand there, grinning at me. I call it showing off, and it slays me, my sweet boy.

The sickness this week has been rampant. A major downside to back to school. Poor Rowan, all ready to go to school this morning. Dressed and actually in the car before she said, "Mom, I think I'm going to throw up." Yep. Luckily Chris was still home, too, so that he could watch her (and clean up) while I took Saoirse to school. Rowan slept on the couch until around 10 AM, then played, got bored, and argued with Fiona for the rest of the day. Apparently she's better. :)

And here we go again. Liam is one year old today, and our second year as a complete family starts. I couldn't be luckier, and I know it. Well...it would have been a teensy bit luckier if Liam were not sick on his birthday. He was very cranky, snotty, and coughing. These first weeks back in the school routine are always filled with sickness around here. Was it like this when we were kids and we just didn't remember? Or do my kids just have no immune system? Anyway, the basic point remains. He is a joy, and we exclaim how he is the easiest kid we've ever had on a regular basis. He has one word, "Yum." (He's a good eater.) He can walk 4-5 steps at a time, but still prefers to do his scoot-with-one-leg under him crawl most of the time, because he is FAST! I would say his favorite foods, but honestly it's pretty rare that he turns something down. He started sleeping in his crib this month, at least until 3-4 AM most nights, and twice in the last couple of weeks he slept all the way to morning, 10 hours once and 12 another time. His favorite toy right now is his Fisher Price shopping cart, because with that he can walk all over the place. Weirdly, he also really likes it when Fiona pulls the shopping cart around while he holds on and gets dragged around on his knees. He loves to make us laugh now, by putting books on his head like a hat, by throwing his head back and giggling until we giggle along, by sticking toys in our mouths...by just generally being silly. Whenever any of us laughs at anything, he laughs along, with this throaty laugh that surprises me every time. He wants to be part of the gang, and when his sisters play in the backyard, he stands at the sliding glass door and bangs on the door, wanting to get in on the action. He is adorable, and sweet, and we love him more than we can say. Happy Birthday to Liam!

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