Documenting Traditions, Big and Small - Julia’s Story

Julia started cutting her boys’ hair when they were barely toddlers—knee-high, running barefoot through the backyard in diapers. It became one of those small, ordinary things that slowly turned into a family tradition. Every few weeks, she’d set up a chair under the trees, grab her scissors, and do her best to keep them still long enough for a trim.

For years, she thought about grabbing her camera to capture it—the way the sun hit their curls, the way their laughter filled the yard—but it always felt like too much to juggle. The boys were wiggly, the light was fleeting, and the moment always passed before she could make it happen.

As the boys grew older, she began to wonder what she’d give to have those early days preserved. The simple, messy, ordinary moments that didn’t feel special until time made them so.

When Julia reached out to me, her only goal was to finally pause and hold onto this memory. No big production, no matching outfits—just an afternoon in their backyard, doing what they’ve always done. The scissors came out, the boys took turns in the chair, and the yard filled with laughter. It felt like capturing a piece of their family rhythm, the kind of moment that might’ve never made it to a photo album, but somehow so accurately tells their story.

Because family photos don’t always have to come with the stress of wrangling kids into poses, some can happen quietly at home, in the routines that shape who we are. And one day, when these afternoons are only memories, it’s these small, honest moments that will remind her exactly what this season of life felt like.