THE LITTLE Mister is probably the happiest person I know. He flashes his huge gummy smile indiscriminately – at strangers, at paintings, and toys, at light bulbs. So I wasn’t at all worried about today’s photo shoot. Until we go there.
I hadn’t brought along jeans – and this is what the photographer wanted him to wear. She didn’t want him in the cute onesie I had packed, so instead he stayed in the ugliest tracksuit bottoms he owns. I know he’s still lovely, but it mattered to me. He had been in his worst clothes so he wouldn’t dirty his best ones for a photo I had hoped would take pride of place on our wall.
The Little Mister didn’t like her. He didn’t smile. The flash freaked him out. And then, while sitting up, he toppled over and banged his head, hard, on the wooden floor. He screamed. I wanted to. We left very soon after.
We’ll take a look at the photos next week – and maybe I’ll be surprised and there will be one that is right. But what a day. It’s strange how much it mattered to me, given how many photos we have and take of our baby. Tony has promised me we’ll do a proper shoot at home. Or we could go somewhere else, because that might never happen.
I suppose it’s because he is growing so fast, and changing so much every day that I want to keep hold of how he is now. Which is funny, because every day that he changes I somehow love him more than before. Even though I didn’t know the day before that I could.
Anyway, I’m glad our day is over. And I just hope that bang on the head wasn’t as hard as it sounded.