True Patriotism

So I'm sitting here at working trying to keep myself awake at 2:30am... I decided to wander back to the beginning of my blog and reminisce a little bit. After many posts I stumbled across one with a photo that I am both embarrassed yet impelled to post once more.

Many questions come to mind when I see this photo...

#1) What were they thinking???

#2) Why are his pants cranberry colored instead of red?

#3) How can my sister be smiling?... she should be old enough to know how humiliated she should feel. Even I, at the young age I was, obviously tried to make a fast get-away which must have been why Dad was holding me.

#4) Are those carob chips I'm feeding myself??

#5) Were we on our way to the Republican National Convention?

#6) How big was the fight between my parents that morning when my mom realized my dad had packed the wrong color pants???

And most of all... "WHY???"

The fact that there is an obnoxious looking carnival type tour boat in the background just makes the whole thing more disturbing. Now, I would love to confidently declare that I'm one of those people who couldn't care less about what other people think of me. I try harder than the average 20-something woman (shut it Eric... I still feel 20-something), to portray myself as a confident and secure individual... one who could proudly where white after labor day, shorts despite my hideous trunk legs or heels that made me tower over my husband. But the truth is - I tend to like the "socially acceptable" approach to things - generally speaking, within reason, and pathetic as that may be. I'm forever traumatized by the fact that I was taller than all the boys that I had to dance with at miserable Jr. High dances, I haven't worn shorts in I-don't-know-how-long, and I rarely wear white before Labor Day let alone after - everyone knows it adds poundage!

Which leads me to my next question about the photo... is this where all my insecurities began? Was it all the laughing and pointing I must have endured that day? Oddly enough... my parents actually look happy. Like they didn't have a care in the world. That obviously included any concern for my personal reputation and image. Had I misbehaved the night before? Wet the bed? Or were they just trying to teach me one of those life lessons. Like, "God loves you just the way you are... even in crazy patriotic clown outfits".

I can't help but wonder sometimes if there are random strangers out there, who could take one look at this photo and recall, "that's them!! That's the crazy patriotic polyester family we saw on our vacation that year!". Or worse... perhaps there are many more of these photos out there in random vacation photo albums of complete strangers. It's quite possible that we were one of the most popular "attractions" that day. Most likely many were posing for their own cameras with the four of us in the background... I can see them now... posing with their hands over their heart reciting the Pledge of Allegiance as we mulled around oblivious to their mockery... in our tight American Flag family of four...

Ella... if you're looking back and reading this right now... I'm sorry about the 4th of July outfit we decked you out in a few months ago. I'm also sorry in advance for dressing you in the mini-skirt with "Pooh" embroidered on the butt, and the banana costume I photographed you in last week. I guess it's one of the twisted pleasures of parenthood... dressing your kids up in things that adults wouldn't be caught dead in. However, that sure doesn't explain the picture above. Just be thankful baby girl... that your father and I don't label our butts with reference to human waste and pose with them next to yours... nor do we have photos of the three of us sprawled out in buntings of fruit.

"... and to the Republic, for which it stands... one nation, under God, with liberty, and justice, for all".

(don't miss the update on Haiti below)