And so it begins...

School Pictures

Yesterday (okay, it was two days ago, but Blogger was being difficult) was school picture day for my girls. We took the time Sunday night to blowdry Jillise's hair after her shower so it would look nice and smooth in the morning, outfits were carefully chosen and laid out. Joelle took a bath in the morning (one of the joys of afternoon kindergarten) and we dried and curled her hair so it would look just right. All so we can have these precious early years saved forever in the immortal school picture. Never mind that we never blowdry Jillise's hair -- she always goes to bed with it wet and then it dries in all sorts of strange ways while she sleeps. And that Joelle's hair is normally in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. I think we want to remember what COULD have been -- had we actually been on the ball ALL the time, instead of just on school picture day.

Thinking about school pictures made me want to dig up all of my old school pics. Whew -- not a pretty sight, I tell you. But since my blog could use a boost in entertainment value lately, here they are for your viewing pleasure.

Preschool

I was REALLY cute. My only memory from preschool was the large crinoline dress up skirt that I LOVED to play with. I think I even got pretty nasty if other girls tried to get to it first. Notice my awesome Winnie the Pooh jumper. Boy, those characters have staying power, don't they?

Kindergarten

My mom likes to tell the story about how on my first day of kindergarten I was so independent that I wouldn't even let her walk me into my classroom. I was still really cute. And I highly doubt my hair ever looked that good -- especially since it doesn't hold a curl well.

1st Grade

This picture was the topic of much discussion at my house growing up. If you look at my smile, it is a wall of gums. There are no teeth showing. No one (including myself) can replicate that look. I have no idea how (let alone WHY) I smiled that way.

2nd Grade

Look at this very cool yellow blouse. This style is popular again. Maybe not in yellow fabric with white polka dots, but the tuxedo style. I don't think that hair will ever be back in style though. Let's hope not.

3rd Grade

I this is where I start to look more like me as a grown up, and not like me as a kid. Well, me if I weighed next to nothing so you could see my jawbone and cheekbones again. Notice the curled hair. I probably slept in spongie rollers or something. We have alot of pictures around this time where I had slept in braids and had super wavy hair. The Okinawans were obsessed with our (mine and my sister Megan's) hair. It was long and blond and they were NOT afraid to just come up to us on the streets and run their fingers through it while chattering to their friends. Not the most comforting thing for a nine year old to experience.

4th Grade

Ah, the growing out of the bangs. This means we have also entered the age of the headgear AND
the reading glasses. And full on lerpy, teeth-to-big-for-your-face and growing too fast awkwardness. I used to try to "accidentally" leave my headgear at home. My mom was nice enough to bring it to school for me. I didn't stand a chance. It is impossible to look cool with wire coming out of your mouth, connected to a sweaty grayish blue strip of fabric behind your neck. Add the purplish blue 80s frame glasses and you have a WINNER. One reason I have for getting along with my parents is that they are the keeper of those pictures and I never want them leaked to the general public. Any strides I have made toward coolness in the past 24 years will be washed away with the posting of one little picture. Actually, I think it's a home movie. Even worse. Oh, and I don't know what happened to the individual school picture. Or why I am looking sideways in this. I am sad that they have gone to composite class pictures. I think you can see so much more personality in these large group shots. And for the record, this is also the age when I stopped doing homework and was grounded for AN ENTIRE MARKING PERIOD for bad grades. I was one of those "not living up to her potential" kids. And my mom's idea of grounding meant no TV or friends or phone. I spent alot of time in my room and practicing the piano. I think this is also the year that Rusty (I'm pretty sure he is the boy in the front row right in front of the girl in the green plaid) brought me various weeds and wildflowers wrapped in toilet paper and asked me to be his girlfriend. I wasn't flattered. I seem to also recall him riding his bike to my house. I was NOT interested. And on another note, notice the large class size. Larger than our classes today. And all my class pictures are like this. Granted - we were all military brats and if we screwed up they kicked us out of school. But still...

5th Grade

This looks like the braid waves making an appearance. And look, I was kind of tan. Just kinda. Let's see... in 5th grade I remember starting to like boys. Just not Rusty. I loved to ride my bike. I was in ballet and piano. I think this might have been the year we visited Korea as a family and even MORE old women approached me on the street to run their hands through my hair. And I do remember that shirt. And in the class picture I am wearing awesome pink jelly shoes. I am true child of the 80s.

6th Grade

Oh, man. This is the beginning of the end. I got my hair cut into this very stylish, feathered mullet, probably in protest of foreign women wanting to touch my head. I loved it. And sadly, this is not the worst style to adorn my head in the upcoming few years. We moved from Okinawa the middle of my 6th grade year. It was really hard. I moved from a little bubble of an airbase to a place where I was the racial minority in my classroom. I had been spared from having to be super fashion conscious in Okinawa because our shopping options were really limited. So when we got back to the states I was faced with the harsh reality that I was NOT cool. And to top it off, I got the hairstyle that you see up there PERMED. I was Little Orphan Annie. Who ever says reverse discrimination doesn't happen should visit the inner city schools in Southern Virginia. I just had a HORRIBLE rest of 6th grade. And from that point on, I just really wanted to wear whatever I needed to wear and look the way I thought I needed to look to fit in. This frustrated my parents to no end. I don't think they ever "got it." Clothes were clothes, a label means nothing. And there is a big part of me that got that. But another part of me thought that (bad hair aside) if I just wore a Limited t-shirt with the square label on the front, down at the bottom of the shirt (remember those? They had some funky person drawn or something??) that life would be peachy. I am still trying to figure out how I am going to deal with this with my kids. I don't ever want them to be picked on just because they have no fashion sense, but I don't want them to BECOME the teaser because everything comes so easily to them. I'm sure it's a fine line we will walk for the rest of their lives at home. So, yeah. That about sums up 6th grade. Oh, and I had a crush on a boy named Dana on my class in Okinawa. But some kid named Elliott had a crush on me. He was probably as cool in Okinawa as I was in Norfolk, VA. Which was not cool at ALL. Now is probably some super successful business man or doctor or something...

Sixth grade is also the year that we got new swings on the playground in Okinawa. They had these really long, thick red rope handles instead of the chains. You could twist those handles up by sitting or laying on the swing and turning around and around. Then you could let go and go for the ride of your life. We used to have contests at lunch to see who could get the most twists. A kid named Paul Hand (I should look him up on Facebook) was out to set the record. I don't even remember how many times he got that thing twisted. He was laying on his belly on the swing and he spun around forever before it came to rest. When he stood up, all the whites of his eyes had turned blood red. All of the spinning and pressure had burst all the blood vessels in his eyes. I think we all turned and ran at that point.

So, that's it! I can't find my junior high school pictures. But they ain't pretty. And those of you on Facebook have seen my high school pictures. If you aren't on Facebook yet, this may very well be your excuse to start. You don't want to miss those suckers...

Open Invitation

Anyone wanna come over and play next week? It'll be a party...

What I've Been Up To

We have been really busy. We are rearranging, repainting, reflooring, and rejuvinating our entire downstairs. Nothing will be left untouched -- except the bathroom. Stay tuned...

End of Day One

Jillise survived her first day of second grade. I don't know that I can say the same for myself. I am BEAT. I got up at 6:00 to put the failed sticky buns in the oven and shower. Got the kids up and ready and Jillise and Grayson were at school by 7:35 (school starts at 7:45 -- yes, you may feel sorry for us). Came home and put dinner in the crockpot, cleaned the kitchen, did laundry, hemmed soccer clothes, made beds, wrote a blog post, and tried to be productive. Then we did lunch and brought Jaren to Michelle's house so Joelle and I could go officially meet her teacher. Her teacher is fabulous. A wonderful, loving grandma woman who will be perfect for my little Joellie. By the time we got back we had 20 minutes before we turned around to pick up Jillise. We got home at 2:30.

At 3:00 my first piano student came. Had a total of four. Jillise left for soccer at 4:45 (again, Michelle saved the day). At 5:00 when I was done with piano I loaded up the other kids and dragged them to the soccer field. Jillise's practice was done at 6:00 - the same time Joelle's starts.

Brian met us at the field at 6:30 to bring Jillise and a very VERY crabby Jaren home. Now everyone is fed and in bed. And I need to clean up so we can start again tomorrow. Minus the soccer, though. Thank goodness.

Second Grade

Jillise is off. With very few tears, I might add. Just a few right when I woke her up. And to be honest, *I* felt like crying when my alarm went off that early, too.

Brian caught the late bus into work so he could be here to say goodbye this morning. It was nice to have us all up and together. I tried to make the yummy butterscotch rolls we had at our Relief Society retreat but they didn't turn out very well so the girls had frozen waffles. Oh, well.

I think we are in for a good year. Jillise has a few girlfriends in her class this year and she got a really good teacher. I think she is more excited than scared or nervous and she eagerly hopped out of the car and ran in with her friend Grayson at dropoff, so that is a REALLY good sign.

Joelle starts kindergarten this year, but she doesn't really get into the swing of things until next week. We go for a one on one "meet the teacher" today, then half of her class will go on Thursday, and the other half on Friday. Then on Monday everyone is there and the poor teacher starts thinking that early retirement is a great thing.

It is oddly quiet now. It is only 8:20 and I am showered and dressed and my kitchen is clean. Today I start my piano lesson schedule and both girls have soccer so the next thing on my to-do list is to get dinner in the crockpot. I am also on a sewing roll -- I hemmed five pairs of jeans yesterday for the girls and today I am altering soccer clothes so Joelle doesn't trip on the bottom of the pants and Jillise isn't constantly trying to keep her pants up while running. I'll have after school updates later!