And here's my mom and two of my sisters in the front yard. Nothing significant about this picture. I just love the blue light of that crisp, late afternoon wintery day. I can feel the chill and the crunch of the snow in that picture.
Here's my Dad, so handsome with his suit and skinny tie with a woman who is not my mother, slipping her hand inside his jacket. I'm not sure what that's about, but in every, single picture of the grownups from those days, they're all partying and carrying on, like, "YES! The Catholics have been set free from our freakin' packs of kids for a few hours. Let the Wild Rumpus Begin!" I guess we didn't scan any pics of all the pregnant women with their smokes in one hand and cocktails in the other, but let me just say, there's a ton of proof out there to why my math skills are abysmally poor. And yes, I know the slide is backward, but I'm too lazy to fix it. OK?
My mom. Wow. At this moment in her life she had 5 kids under the age of 7. Can you believe it? I think my parents might have been lying to us all these years. My mom must have been an illicit child bride of 12 when they married.
This is my mom and I. I just wanted to show off what a fashionista she was even with 5 kids and 2 more down the road. I really wish she'd hung onto those sunglasses. I would so steal them from her if they were still around.
Now, there are two recurring themes in the pictorial history of my life. One: I was surrounded by boys for the longest time. It was me and one other girl cousin teamed up against an army of wild, roughhousing boys. And the black eyes on those boys were plentiful.
My brother Tom. Bats and toy weapons were an integral part of these wild boys' life, thus the black eyes.
My cousin Jim. My brother John is crying on my dad's shoulder. I'm not sure if this is because of the black eye or the fact that he is losing the beer drinking game the little boys seem to be playing with their dads.
My brother Dennis with my cousin Mike who seems to be very proud of the sock-in-the-eye he just gave my brother. And I'm thinking, these black eyes must have been very commonplace for someone to make them pose for a photo op before getting the ice pack and such. I'm just sayin'.
The other recurring theme is the fact that helicopter parents were non-existent in those days. In fact, I'm certain, my parents' generation finds today's smothering parenting, laughable.
Here we are on the same vacation. I'm pretty sure my sister and I are drunk -- swimming.
Same vacation. It's always a better idea to drag the chair up to the balcony for optimal viewing.
Here are my brother and I having a nutritious lunch. Note the generic sodas with the lids completely cut off. Better to gulp it down that way.
I have a feeling this was in our backyard, a giant cage to house us in. My brother and I.
An armed poker game at my grandparents' house. Evidently the stakes were high.
My siblings and I, on the side of the road on a vacation in Colorado. I don't know who thought it was a good idea to dig up a cactus to take home as a souvenir. My parents were all for it, pulling over, so that we could get thousands upon thousands of tiny little prickly things under our skin for a pleasurable, lengthy journey in the station wagon back to Illinois. Utter misery.
My ten-year-old sister, seeming to enjoy an afternoon beer. I can't even begin to explain this one. I have no idea.
And lastly, some fashion blasts from the past. Here are two of my sisters. They were going for the blinding, disco ball look and the teenaged pregnancy look in corduroy. (For the record, she was not. She just liked the look, I guess.)
This next one, my sister and I lingered on for the longest time while slide-viewing. This picture of my parents and my brother is quite simply, astounding. I think our family fashion statement was, "Close your eyes when picking out a look, that way you scream, 'I'm a Clash Queen and proud of it, Beyatch!'" Seriously, what the hell? Can one get any more patterns and colors in one outfit?
And lastly, but certainly, not least, I give you something to keep a little smile playing about your lips all weekend, my friends.
I am a goddess.