Kookaburras had just started singing as the Sunday morning newly started. The sky started shedding its night colours into the first morning ones. 7am.The world was waking up. The coffee was brewing. The kids were still in their jammies and their hair was still bed. The curtains hadn't yet been drawn. The morning was still early. My camera was subtlety and very quietly documenting some of the 'magical stuff' of raising kids looks like. Slow weekend mornings with absolutely no plans. Hallways were raced. Faces were vegemite toast covered. Everyone cuddled on mum and dad's bed. We all love morning cuddles. We slowly transitioned from early morning to daytime. We played in the yard. We swung. They swung. We swung. We went for a swim. We stacked on mum and put flowers in our hair. We found wood that had drifted. We had a fun Sunday morning. It was photographed. Next Sunday, it was much the same. The chick with the camera, who we now call a friend wasn't there. But it didn't look too differently to when she was.