As graduation season creeps closer, something feels different this year. Heavier and slightly panic-inducing.

I’ve been getting calls from Class of 2026 seniors who realized, suddenly, that time slipped by faster than they thought. I’m also booking sessions for the Class of 2027, full of fresh energy and big plans. Summer is filling up faster than ever before. I've got so many new ideas, and I can't wait for the upcoming senior sessions. And right in the middle of all of that, I’m sitting here… finishing senior portraits for my youngest. My baby boy.

I’ve been gathering photos for his graduation party, scrolling backward through years like chapters in a well-loved book. There he is at six, in his favorite green pants, wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle mask that swallowed half his face. At eight, he's proudly holding a garter snake nearly half his size. At twelve, with that long hair and bright blue eyes. At fifteen, standing at the base of a Colorado Fourteener after summiting alone, because mom tapped out just over 13,000 feet. His face was red and raw from forgetting to apply sunscreen, but it was proof that he can do hard things. And then there he is now, a senior.

That same boyish smile still shows up when he forgets he’s being photographed, and it undoes me every time. These aren’t tears of sadness. They’re tears of remembrance. Of pride. Of awe at the man he’s becoming. But I also can not figure out how time passed so quickly.

High school senior sessions have always held a special place in my heart. I love helping seniors weave their interests into their portraits: the musicians, the athletes, the kids who live for the game or the stage. Those sessions are full of movement, energy, and creativity. Fun lighting. Bold posing. Lots of laughter.

But if I’m being honest? I’ve always felt especially connected to the misfits. The gamers. The artists. The kids who love animals more than people. The ones with niche interests I have to Google later.

For my daughter, her session had to include drama, dressing up, and (non-negotiable) her dog. We did multiple sessions during different seasons and built a beautiful album that now sits proudly on my shelf, next to a painting of her at two years old.

For my son, we found ways to showcase his love of travel, camping, and hiking, and I insisted on photographing him at the firehouse where he volunteers. I even made his dad put on full gear so I could capture the two of them together. I’m trying to hold it together as I build his album, but I can’t help wondering what kind of portraits I’ll be creating for them in the future. No more live-in models when an idea strikes.

These images I'm collecting mean the world to me. I’ve spent my entire career creating storytelling portraits, not only for my clients, but for my own children. Watching their personalities shift, their interests evolve, and their confidence grow through my art has been one of the greatest gifts of my life.

And this last senior session for my youngest? It hits different.

Because senior portraits aren’t really about the photos. They’re about pausing time just long enough to say, I see you. To honor who they’ve been, and who they’re becoming. To give moms something solid to hold onto when the house gets quieter.

If you’re a mom reading this, I’d love to hear from you. Are you in the thick of senior year right now? Did it sneak up on you, too? How are you handling the idea of letting go, especially if this is your youngest?

And if you’re looking for senior portraits that feel personal, meaningful, and true to your kid, I would be honored to help tell their story. These years deserve to be remembered with intention.

As for advice on sending your youngest off to college? I don’t have it all figured out yet. I just keep telling myself that this isn’t an ending. It’s just a new chapter.

— Dana 🤍

Fellow moms, I’d truly love to hear your thoughts. Stop by Facebook or Instagram and leave a comment on the blog post.