Have I ever mentioned that I am the sixth child of eight children. The youngest girl of three girls. My mother was very busy. She sewed us clothing and made fabulous home cooked meals. She even got up at the crack of dawn to make cookies for our lunches.
I remember lots about growing up, but it isn't because I have loads of pictures to flip through and reminisce over.
My baby book is essentially empty.
I was a darn cute baby too--I know because I have at least five pictures of me by the time I turned five.
I think I might be over compensating a little. . .
Or maybe my kids are just photogenic. . .
Or maybe I have a problem. . .
I am addicted to taking pictures. . .
When I watch my kids, every other thought is, "Wait don't move. . .oh, do that again so I can take a picture of it!"
Needless to say, I have a lot of pictures of them. . .
. . . and lots of other people's kid for that matter. Like the cute boy next door who is one day younger than my oldest. . . and her first kiss (they were three--I have a picture of it!)
Which is sort of why I started this blog. I felt bad that my pictures were just sitting in a file somewhere on my computer. (I am NOT a scrapbooker).
And later when the girls are older and dating I can use these pictures as evidence, or threats, or something. At least a good chuckle occasionally. And reminisce about how cute they used to be.