"Look at the camera...look here...look at the camera!"

Sounds familiar?

If you've ever attempted to photograph a baby, you've heard or said some variation of that statement.

Babies are notoriously difficult to photograph.

Now, I don't classify myself as a baby photographer. It's not my niche. It's not my specialty. It's not what I would consider to be a strength.

It's a weakness.

And that motivates me to get better.

These days, as photographers splinter off into every direction in search of their calling or niche, it's becoming more and more evident that it's all really the same. It's all, simply, photography.

When I was asked to photograph my cousin's new baby, I was worried about the results I would get.

Upon beginning the two separate sessions (newborn and four months old), I quickly calmed because I realized that the task at hand was not unfamiliar.

The more I click the shutter of a camera, the more I realize that shooting is just shooting. You adjust here, and you adjust there. Nothing is routine.

Photography is an art. It's a skill that could always use a little more sharpening, a little more practice, and a little more attention.

No matter what I'm photographing, I'm basically thinking about the same things. How are the conditions (particularly the natural light)? What adjustments need to be made in the camera? What aspects of the photograph can I control, and cannot?

Photography is a thought process.

Of course, everyone has their own opinion on what makes great baby photos. There is no shortage of gimmicks and props in the genre. But for me, nothing tops simplicity.

Think about it. In my mind's eye, I can still picture the family photos that decorated my grandparents' homes. I can vividly recall portraits of my dad and his brothers framed on the living room wall.

At most, those photos included a toy carousel horse.

That's it. A small prop that really didn't add much, if anything. The focus was on the young child.

The objective is to capture a moment in time. It's a moment that will never exist again.

That philosophy has guided me through my sessions with my tiny new family member.

We want to remember his big blue eyes, his chunky cheeks, and his glowing smile.

The props and gimmicks, on the other hand, won't matter in the decades to come.

My grandparents are not here to see their great-grandchild. Their son is not here to see who would be his only grandchild. It makes me sad that they won't know this sweet little boy.

But, life goes on.

And, hopefully, generations to come will know and love him.

I just want my photos to hold some meaning. That's all I care about when I click the shutter.