It occurred to me recently that I’ve deliberately taken pictures of my daughter that remind me of photos I’ve seen of myself in my baby albums. I decided to put this hypothesis to the test, and came up with an array of sweet parallels.
What is that all about? Is parenting always about a reach back into our early psyches? Or are we simply effortlessly recreating our own early experiences (or trying intentionally not to)? When you parent any child, personal histories start edging to the surface. I wonder what themes you may find if you glance through your baby albums tonight. Here are some of mine.