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.