End of an Era

Today is school picture day. By 7:30 am (which is the time everyone has to be dressed, fed and in the van) my boys were looking absolutely dashing in their matching brown GAP shirts, dark denim jeans and newly groomed short haircuts. With Sam's missing bottom teeth and in spite of the crowding problem in Seth's own mouth, I've no doubt that I'll love these pictures (although I wasn't given the option not to since the order was due upfront. Scam).

Feeling nostalgic, I went and looked at Seth's past school pictures. He looks so young in his kindergarten picture where he's wearing a vivid, orange polo. First grade is much more subdued as he opted for the toothless smile in his red, cream and black rugby. And his second grade picture contains the new, too-large teeth in his...er....orange polo (apparently I like orange polos, although this particular shirt was much more of a burnt orange than its predecessor).

In each picture, his hair looks pretty much the same. Short. Side part. Subtle flip of his bangs in front. The exact hair style both he and Sam are sporting today.

After looking at Seth's pictures, I found the stack of my own 5 X 7 school portraits I acquired from my parents. It was then that I realized that this may be the last year I have any influence over Seth's appearance.

How I came to this realization can be seen by looking at my own history.

Kindergarten:

A little shell shocked, I think. Or post nap. No doubt I looked a little better earlier in the day with a more coiffed bowl haircut. But my matching purple shirt and skirt were adorable.

1st Grade:
I'm not sure why I'm wearing this polyester ensemble, as I have photographic proof that it is a hand-me-down of at least five years (Maureen is wearing it on Christmas day some years back), but I clearly had my hair curled that morning and my mother must have convinced me that I looked pretty.


2nd Grade:

I loved this dress. I remember it well because my sister, Jennifer, had a matching red one, only hers didn't have the lace sewn into the sleeve, and I loved that strip of lace. This was my favorite school picture for a long time. Probably until my senior year of high school.

3rd Grade:

My personality starts to poke through with the super grin to show off my new super teeth. Another pretty dress with sheer sleeves (hmmmmm). Bought by mother (although I'm thinking I may have had some say in it).

And then it happened. I, and not my mother, gained artistic control over my school picture "look". The results? Well....you'll see.

4th Grade:

I got myself a perm, a mullet and...wait a minute...a polo. I remember feeling good about this choice. But fourth grade was a bad year. A really bad year. It might have been the perm.

While he may choose his green shirt and red track pants next year (please, no) I admit it's probably time to cut the apron strings and let him start dressing himself. Well...he does already. A lot of the days. But, for school, I always have veto power and since I still buy his clothes, it's kind of a puppet regime anyways. No matter what he wears, however, I fervently hope that he won't follow in his mother's footsteps and scribble out the checked box next to "traditional background" and insert his own check mark next to "scenic background" like I did in sixth grade.

I don't know how I thought I'd sneak it past my mother. It's not like she wasn't going to notice the busy fall background that stuck out like a sore thumb next to her five other children's conservative grey/blue. But, once I knew about that fake wheelbarrow, there was no turning back.

Sorry, Mom!