Over Christmas break, my mom gave us each an album of pictures that she had leftover. Inside I found so many gems I just didn't know where to begin.
A few facts of my childhood:
-The first time a boy liked me, I was in 4th grade. I cried because I was so freaked out.
-I was terrified of p.e. because I was that bad at sports.
-I had a pallet separator which is essentially a giant piece of metal glued to the top of your mouth with the purpose of creating more space for adult teeth to grow in. This extra space manifests itself in the form of an extremely attractive gap between your front teeth.
-I wore glasses starting in second grade.
-I had a thing for sweatpants.
It started out pretty well. The styles of the 90's didn't do me too many favors, but let's just blame the times.
I always had the best haircuts.
I also knew how to charm with my various attractive faces.
Around age 7 is when it really starts to get good. If you'll notice in the picture below, I'm wearing a hot pink t-shirt tucked into red sweatpants. No, I do not blame my mom. I guarantee I picked this outfit. I may or may not still have that shirt.
This age also marks the beginning of my blossoming smile. In this picture, I had about 50% of my teeth missing and my mouth was being overtaken by massive adult teeth in a bad way.
These black sneakers are a recurring theme in my photo album. Also, I remember this day. I felt super hot with my high ponytail. I clearly knew what looked good.
These glasses obviously brought out all my best facial features.
Not-so-petite child issue #237: My thighs rubbed together and made my shorts ride up. Irritating. Not my best look.
Overalls with hooded shirts. Because who didn't love a good pair of overalls?
Then basically overnight, I finally hit puberty. Not that it solved my problems, but at least I did my hair.
Can I get a holler for braces!
And after 6 (yes, 6) years of metal in my mouth, the braces finally came off. Thank goodness.
I still vividly remember when my mom came at me with a razor in 5th grade and said it was time to shave, when my sister suggested I try a blow dryer, and when I figured out how to buy jeans that actually fit. I also remember being astounded when boys started thinking I was cute. What?
This post is dedicated to my sister, who so lovingly speaks of my awkward years.
Also, my mom, who still says she thinks I was cute the whole time. Aw, shucks, mom. You're the best.
And to Trevor. If only you could have known me when I was ten. Then I really would have won you over early.
Thank goodness for the end of the 90's, older sisters and moms who help you emerge from the black hole that is third (and second... and fourth... and fifth... and eighth...) grade, and contacts.
And let me just say that nobody could pay me to repeat junior high. Yikes.
Hope you all had a fabulous weekend :).