Ruv You.

I am guilty of taking a lot of photos. A lot. I just had to go through 900+ photos on my camera app to clear enough space off of my phone so this little baking baby in my oven can be graced with the privilege of being captured by such fine photography equipment. Those 900+ photos were in addition to the thousand already living in my camera roll. 

I know, it's embarrassing. 

The next morning after making my phone win the biggest loser contest in terms of space used, Ryan and I were hanging out on the kitchen floor at five something in the morning. He was delightfully perched on the bottom step, and the cute combination of his heavy eyes above his it's a new day! smile were just daring me to not be content with the short hand on the clock. 

I snapped a photo, of course.

But the next day we were again at our luxurious seating arrangement, the kitchen floor, and having a ball singing, "I'm a Little Teapot." I couldn't bring myself to bring out that phone paparazzi of mine. I have no problem snapping photos of the warm-my-heart moments between Chris and Ryan because I'm just an observer in those sweet father-son moments. However, out of the 1500+ that were on my phone alone, I think only one shared between just Ryan and me was truly a Kodak moment - and it was captured by luck. It was Ryan's first smile, and I just happened to be taking a photo of him at the time to send to Chris at work. Most of the others were amazing times, of course, but they involved getting the phone out, choosing the app, waiting for the camera to focus and then inviting that intrusive biographer into our mother-son moment. Click, click. 

The best times are the ones for which I have no serendipitously timed photos. The best times come before the photos.

I should always remember that I am Ryan's mother, not his full time photographer. Right now, I don't always remember. When I am conversing with him about the ducks that flew! away! in the air! after he was running!, I want to truly be involved in the conversation no matter if it may be the tenth time we have had this conversation in two minutes. Because of this, I don't have photos of those sweet moments when we are jumping on the bed or singing about, "pee-pots." Or when he finally learns how to just turn the letter P just so for the puzzle space. Or when he lets us in on a new phrase for the first time (for example, tonight it was, "Mama! Girl! Gassy. Stinky!!")

Or of when he said first told me, "Ruv you." 

This morning, after rising in the more reasonable hour of six, we were wandering about the house. He was in his dinosaur footed pajamas with a black fleece pullover and had the craziest case of unruly hair that rivaled the namesake of one of his favorite baby youtube shows. (Einstein, if you aren't a parent who is thankful for screen-time). We went into the bedroom to grab something or other and as we passed the dresser, he hugged my leg and murmured, "Mama! Ruv you." 

Was I supposed to go search for my phone, run back to the spot and ask him to say it again? Isn't that like a significant other saying, "Thanks," in reply to your angst-ridden confession of love? I was just happy to soak it all in and feel my heart swell ... and swell ... and swell.

I ruv you, too, Ryan. Thanks for giving me a million uncaptured Kodak moments.