No matter how old I get, I will always love coming home. There is something about spending a weekend with the family that just makes everything seem better. It's probably because they created me and have to love me no matter what--although who wouldn't. Also probably because they feed me well and it's free on my end (covered mexican and italian, mission accomplished).
Saturday morning we got an early call that people wanted to come look at the house. My parents have been trying to sell my childhood home and have already built a new one so it's kind of crucial at this point.
We went to look at the new house and I'll just show you my two favorite rooms...
Ah, yes. The wine room. Complete with racks for the red and a chilling fridge for the white. I told my dad to just put a little swing in there so I never have to move. He said okay.
Room No. 2, MY room.
Now, I love this room for two main reasons.
a)) I stayed in Austin the summer after my first year at UT and my parents knew I was never coming back for more than a short visit. So they turned my room into a gym, and I have slept on the couch for holidays the past 4 years. I will finally have a bed again!
b) It has a cute little door to the attic so I can keep my small slave child locked away without worry.
I'm pumped about the new house, but it will be sad leaving the old one.
And, as promised, we will take a trip down memory lane. To keep it reasonably short, I'm going with a halloween theme for the solo shots. Don't worry, more to come. Just make sure to get your daily Cup o' Joe.
Some of them are kind of blurry due to the fact that a scanner was not readily available so I was taking pictures of pictures on my iphone. I'm impatient. You don't care.
I'll start from the beginning.....
My parents in 1985. My dad graduated law school from Baylor (Hey Bears, drop out of the big XII and you might win a game once a year) and I was on the way. Too bad they didn't have those David Beckham condoms back then. They could have prevented 24 years of chaos.
My mom just walked over and scoffed that I was "putting this online?!" After then making sure I wasn't giving out my home address and phone number to stalkers she mused, "Just think, in that photo I was only 4 years older than you are now..."
Well, times they are a'changin and unless I get myself into quite a little pickle, that's not where I will be in 4 years. Your second child will most likely be providing the first grand kids.
Now, flash forward to Halloween circa 1989 (estimation).
Don't I look excited to be a pirate hooker at the age of 4?? I only used that face when I really didn't want to have my picture taken. My grandfather was a photographer through my childhood and I learned to plaster on a fake smile like you wouldn't believe. I'm photogenic to the max. Lessons start at $10/hr.
This is probably when I was still an only child. Check out the stache on daddy-o. This is really a better depiction of me. I loved pink, my hair was usually a mess, and I was very happy--until I didn't get my way.
In fact, we moved to Southlake in 1991 and I started 1st grade. I'm not sure if we didn't realize it was picture day or just didn't care, but I had a messy ponytail, hot pink turtleneck, and knee-length cut off jeans on. Oh, and I was missing front teeth. I'm a real gem. Keep it classy!
Times change, people don't. Although now I prefer purple and the "messy ponytail" is socially acceptable.
God Bless the fashionistas of America.
Here I am as a cowgirl at age 6!! Oh wait, this wasn't halloween, my family just thought it would be "cute" to have pictures that would haunt me well into adulthood.
Actually, I was quite the little cowgirl. I took horseback riding lessons for a couple of years and even did some horse shows until I got bucked off and it scared the living shit out of me.
These days, I'd love to get back into the saddle and ride again. Get your mind out of the gutter, I'm talking about horses.
The following picture needs to be included for two reasons.
1) I am reading "Goosebumps" and therefore it qualifies as "spooky fun"
2) It is the only glimpse you will get into my awkward phase for now.
Please note the glasses. I found out my senior year of high school that my friend Jaime had the same ones in turquoise and purple rims. Mine were gold, black, and red since you can't tell. But the really great part is the SHOES.
Mom, why did you buy these for me?? White high tops with VELCRO? arghhhh I cringe just thinking about it. I also wore umbros and plaid elastic shorts almost every day of 4th grade. ew. In my defense, other kids did too. Well the umbros, not the plaid.
Are you getting antsy yet?
Do you want to see the picture?
My shorts probably match the couch.
And just to prove I am not an only child, here is a non-halloween glamour shot of our family shortly after my brother was born.
That's me in the red.
"Court, you have curly hair?"
No, no I don't. I was a 6 year old with a perm.
And bows, lots of bows.
I think after I told my mom to send my brother and sister back she started going with the "the bigger the hair the closer to God" mantra to try to save my soul.
Speaking of, I feel bad for just snapping at my dad. He kept going on and on about going to church with them. I planned on it. My dress clothes are in the car, I'm up, not hungover, and ready to go.
But I have 2 hours and I am TRYING to get my blog entry in for yesterday and today. And he just kept going, and going, and "ALRIGHT I GET IT! I'm GOING! I TOLD you I was going! I'm tryyyyyying to write my blog, GAH, DAD!"
Now I feel guilty. Like I need to go apologize. The thing is, I get my impatience and stubbornness from him. So really I shouldn't have to feel bad. But I do.
So I hope you enjoyed. I'm going to go chase the car down the cul-de-sac in my boxers and t shirt flailing my arms and holding a "Sorry I always have to be such a bitch" sign.
Once he says he forgives me, I'll add in some excuse. "But just for the record, you know i'm not a morning person..."
It's really unnecessary (and a total lie), but I have to get the last word.
Sunshine and roses,