Something Special

My little guy doesn't have any words.  I know what he wants and what he likes and what he's thinking based on what he can show me, since he can't tell me himself.  I know he loves the color blue, classical music and anything spherical, like balls or balloons.  But sometimes I want to know his inner voice.  I know I don't have the whole picture.  It's like I want to take his portrait--because, after all, there isn't a sweeter face anywhere--but what I get is his landscape instead.  I can see the world he lives in and the colors of his life, but his personal image remains elusive.  That's all metaphorical, but in reality, getting little guy's picture ain't easy.  He smiles all the time, but it's usually because he's jumping or running--and all I get on film is a blur of limbs and the back of his head.  He doesn't understand verbal directions, and doesn't have any interest in orienting to a camera, so almost all my picture of him are VERY close-up, because I'm physically holding him still with one hand and handling the camera with the other.  Here's an example:

Nice mustache, buddy.  Well little mister's getting grown up and has lost himself his first tooth.  I wanted to get a final picture of the smile the lights me up before it changes forever.  He just has the handsomest baby teeth.  So I needed a strategy.  I needed something that would make him smile, and something that would keep him in the same spot for two seconds.  I needed balloons.

 I didn't get the perfect portrait.  None of these pictures capture his full animation, or the luminance of his smile, or the charm of his perfect little pearly-whites.  You get some of his other attributes though: long eyelashes, flaming hair, side-ways smiles, sweet happiness.  You get one afternoon's playfuless.  For me, that's enough, because-- he's not a portrait guy.  That little bit of mystery is just who my little guy is.