Mom & Me Sessions for the Season You’re In (Not the One You’re Waiting For)

The house already felt calm when we walked in. The kind of calm that comes from intention, soft light moving through the windows, neutral tones, rooms designed for people to actually live in them. A space that doesn’t rush you, even when life outside of it feels fast.

This session took place inside  Beach n Board , one of those spaces that feels thoughtfully considered without feeling pretentious. Light moves easily through the rooms. The palette stays quiet. Nothing competes with the people inside it. 

It’s the kind of place where kids instinctively slow down and moms don’t feel the need to tidy, adjust, or apologize. A space designed for living, which makes it the kind of environment where honest moments naturally unfold.

Places like this matter more than we realize. When a home is thoughtfully designed. It gives families permission to settle in, to move naturally, to exist without trying to make a moment happen. 

And for moms in the thick of early motherhood, that kind of space is everything.

Especially when you have two kids under three.

One child in her lap, the other wrapped around her shoulders. A moment that didn’t need to be arranged to feel right.

Chhavee sat down on the bed first, her baby heavy and warm in her lap, still soft in that way only babies are. A moment later, her older child climbed up behind her, arms wrapping loosely around her shoulders, laughter spilling out without warning. No one asked where to sit. No one waited for directions. It happened instinctively, the way these moments always do when no one is trying to turn them into something else.

This is how my Mom & Me sessions begin. Not with posing. Not with instructions. 

There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes with having two children under three. It’s not just the lack of sleep or the constant movement. It’s the way your attention is always divided, one child needing to be held while the other is tugging at your hand, both needing you in completely different ways at the same time. It’s the feeling of being everything, everywhere, all at once.

And somewhere in the middle of that, moms start telling themselves the same thing: I’ll do photos later.

When things slow down.When they’re a little older.When life feels less full.

Later becomes the promise.

I see it constantly. Moms hesitate because they’re worried their kids won’t sit still. Because they imagine spending the entire session managing someone. Because they don’t feel like themselves yet. So they wait, assuming this season is too chaotic, too messy, too unpredictable to be captured.

But the harsh truth is that this is the season that disappears the fastest.

When I photograph moms with little ones, I don’t expect stillness. I expect movement. I expect wandering hands, shifting weight, children climbing in and out of arms. I expect one child settling into a familiar hold while the other circles nearby—checking in, moving away, coming back again.

During my Mom & Me sessions, the goal isn’t to get everyone looking at the camera.

The goal is to let the connection unfold the way it already does every single day.

There’s often a moment early on when a mom glances down and says something quietly, almost apologetically. They’re a lot right now. Or, This is just how it is lately.

And every time, I’m thinking the same thing: this is exactly how it’s meant to be.

Stillness is rare in motherhood. So is silence. The closeness, the weight, the constant reaching, that’s not something to fix or wait out. That’s the story.

I don’t watch for perfect expressions. I watch for the small things instead. The way a baby leans fully into familiar arms without hesitation. The way a toddler presses their cheek against a shoulder mid-laugh. The way a mom’s posture softens when she forgets she’s being photographed. These moments don’t announce themselves. They happen quietly, often in between the ones we think we’re supposed to capture.

A neutral palette of creams, denim, and navy paired with soft textures and everyday pieces.

Clothing that supports the moment rather than directing it.

Wardrobe follows that same philosophy. Nothing fussy. Nothing that asks you to become someone else for the sake of a photo.

Soft textures, neutral tones, clothes that feel like something you’d already reach for on an ordinary morning. Comfort first, always, because when you’re comfortable, presence comes easily.

Eventually, there’s a moment when no one is aware of the camera anymore. The kids are just being kids. The mom is simply there, holding space the way she always does. What remains is something steady and unforced. Something real.

These aren’t images meant to impress strangers. They’re the ones you return to years later because they feel familiar. Because they remind you not just of how things looked, but of how they felt, the weight of a child in your lap, the sound of laughter filling a quiet room, the closeness of a season when you were needed in every possible way.

One day, your arms won’t be this full. The weight will shift. The need will soften. And this season will feel farther away than you expect.

If you want to remember what it felt like to be right in the middle of it, to be their place to land, I’d be honored to photograph that for you.

👉 Inquire here for Mom & Me session details.