I did this portrait recently for my next-door neighbor, of her with her middle child. His expression in that third frame really makes me smile. I think I'd title this "Now here's a guy who really loves his Mom."
The conversions were done to look better larger, and they do. The pictures were taken with the Pentax K20D and the splendid new DA* 55mm ƒ/1.4 SDM lens (yet another of the many gorgeous made-for-digital primes from Pentax). I had a few focusing issues with the lens—nothing too bad, but enough to notice—and, oddly, it's too sharp for portraits at most apertures; by ƒ/4 the sharpness is overwhelming. The beauty of an ƒ/1.4 medium-telephoto is that you have a certain narrow window for choosing your degree of unsharpness: the first few clicks of the aperture ring are subtly less sharp than the middle apertures, allowing you to pick the balance you like best. I learned this from a series of test portraits made with the Pentax 85mm ƒ/1.4 by Bruce Dayton. He showed an aperture-range set of pictures of taken of his young daughter. Some commenters, inevitably, liked the sharpest shots best, but I thought the perfect aperture was ƒ/2: it had just the right balance of detail without the harshness or hard-sharpness of the middle aperture. (My pictures here were made at ƒ/2.8.)
It's funny, but from the 1890s and until the First World War, photographers prized lenses for their unsharpness: when artists found the lenses that gave them just the right degree and quality of unsharpness, they treasured them like jewels. This attitude survived until the 1940s among portrait photographers. The unsharpness of their lenses of choice was considered by many portraitists an indivisible part of their aesthetic signature.
For the record, I've always believed that a somewhat unsharp portrait lens is actually more accurate than a clinically sharp one. Not more accurate to the forensic reality, perhaps, but truer to the way our brains perceive faces: we are very good indeed at seeing faces, and we tend to reflexively emphasize the enduring features that permit us to recognize individuals. The corollary is that we ignore those aspects that we know to be transient, impermanent, or trivial: oiliness, blemishes, and the very fine details such as skin pores or fine hairs that obscure rather than enhance recognition. We really do see these less readily than the camera does. So when you make a portrait somewhat less sharp, you are making it more true to way were perceive. This might seem counter-intuitive to the literal-minded, but remember, we don't see with our eyes—we see with our eyes and our brains. Perception is greatly in the mind.