Ah, picture day. All four of our longtime readers will remember this beauty.
I tend to think we weren't the only parents who got a less-than-flattering portrait of our child that year, as the next year the school upped their game and hired a locally famous portrait studio to come in and take pictures.
Of course, we weren't in town on that picture day so we had to submit our own photo for the yearbook. Yes, the preschool has a yearbook. It's awesome because I never remember what the teacher's names are so it allows Mimi to flip it open during every school conversation to show me which teacher she is talking about. Anyway, here's the photo:
We liked this one because it caught her in a very unguarded moment. How guarded could a two-year-old be? You'd be surprised.
Then this year the same locally famous portrait studio came back to take pictures again and we were in town so we ordered up a pile of this one:
Every time I look at this one it makes my heart skip. There's something so ... big kid about it. Maybe it's the formality of "school picture". Maybe it's the generic blue background. Maybe it's that shirt that in 10 years she's going to look at and say "Really? Stripes and hearts? What was wrong with you people?" Whenever I look at it (and I look at it every day) I am struck with a weird feeling of melancholy. My baby is growing up! I guess that's what they do.
The portrait studio also included a handy ID card with her school picture on it and room to record her vital statistics, all under the terrifying heading "Use this card in an emergency. When a child goes missing, every second counts." I'm glad to have it, for the reasons they included it -- which are too terrifying to contemplate but which I contemplate all the time (I wake up almost every night and have a moment of panic until I remember that she's just in bed) -- and because I worry about not having any kind of ID for her when we are out together and I have this possibly-irrational scenario that plays in my head where I'm going to have to try to prove to the cops that she's really my daughter but they aren't going to believe me.
Inside my head is a weird place.
Anyway, that's this year's entry in the Kiddo timeline. Copies are on their way to the grandparents. And if you are my sibling you are getting a copy of this to put on your refrigerator for a while until it ends up in a drawer or as a bookmark. I still have elementary-school-era pictures of my now 20- and 30-something nieces and nephews that fall out of books and turn up in boxes. I am crap at organizing.
Of course, we weren't in town on that picture day so we had to submit our own photo for the yearbook. Yes, the preschool has a yearbook. It's awesome because I never remember what the teacher's names are so it allows Mimi to flip it open during every school conversation to show me which teacher she is talking about. Anyway, here's the photo:
We liked this one because it caught her in a very unguarded moment. How guarded could a two-year-old be? You'd be surprised.
Then this year the same locally famous portrait studio came back to take pictures again and we were in town so we ordered up a pile of this one:
The portrait studio also included a handy ID card with her school picture on it and room to record her vital statistics, all under the terrifying heading "Use this card in an emergency. When a child goes missing, every second counts." I'm glad to have it, for the reasons they included it -- which are too terrifying to contemplate but which I contemplate all the time (I wake up almost every night and have a moment of panic until I remember that she's just in bed) -- and because I worry about not having any kind of ID for her when we are out together and I have this possibly-irrational scenario that plays in my head where I'm going to have to try to prove to the cops that she's really my daughter but they aren't going to believe me.
Inside my head is a weird place.
Anyway, that's this year's entry in the Kiddo timeline. Copies are on their way to the grandparents. And if you are my sibling you are getting a copy of this to put on your refrigerator for a while until it ends up in a drawer or as a bookmark. I still have elementary-school-era pictures of my now 20- and 30-something nieces and nephews that fall out of books and turn up in boxes. I am crap at organizing.
Comments
Every morning Josie will exclaim, "OOOHHHshe'ssoooocuuuute! I miss her, I wish we could see her." We all feel that way.
Judes
xo
Gibs
She's so darn cute!
Love,
KT