The Everyday Sessions

When my kids were little, we lived in a beautiful old apartment in Parramatta.

The living room was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, and those windows were completely covered in my daughter’s artwork. Drawings taped everywhere. Layer on top of layer. Her own little gallery.

She was so proud of it. Every day there was something new to show me.

Our mornings were busy and chaotic. I was working full time. Chris was often away shooting a new film or television series. Every day felt like a rush to get everyone dressed, packed and out the door.

But there were small moments that slowed everything down.

Every morning my son sat in the same spot on the kitchen floor and drank a cold glass of milk. I would sit opposite him while the morning light hit his face. He would quietly sip and tap his foot while the house buzzed around us.

It was a tiny pocket of stillness in the chaos.
I can picture it perfectly.
And I am not in the photo.

We walked along the Parramatta River to daycare each morning. Same route. Same bridge. Same routine. We sang the same elephant song every single day and jumped off the same concrete fence before heading to the café.

My daughter would run in ahead and proudly order my coffee for me. Then we would sit outside and watch the ducks while the day started around us.

It felt ordinary at the time.
It felt like routine.
It felt like life moving quickly.

Looking back, it was one of the best seasons of my life.

And I barely exist in it.

That is why these sessions matter to me so much.

Because the moments you think are small often become the ones you wish you could step back into.