The first is that, because I didn't use a flash, the image has a warm, Renoir-like, slightly blurry feeling to it that evokes a timeless quality; this could be any family at any time after the invention of toilets and potty seat rings.
The second part that warms my heart is that it presents an honest, intimate picture of what having very small children is often like: cramming many bodies into tiny spaces, trying to cheer each other on and usually sitting on the floor while doing so.
But the best part about this picture is that it commemorates Shea's first poop on the potty--at 14 months old. I realize this was probably a fluke, and that we'll be rockin' the Pampers for the next year or two, just like we did with Finn, but even the smallest glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll be one of those early toilet trainers you hear about every so often just fills me with the kind of glee reserved for when baby fixes you her first martini.
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