There's a slew of reasons I don't post pictures of myself on the blog. I don't particularly like photos of me and the last thing I want to do is offend my readers with a big self portrait of yours truly. The other reason is Farmer B doesn't take photos - ever. I'm the camera girl so months and months can go by without a photo being taken of me. The boys draw lots of pictures of me so at least we have that. My life is like a courtroom drama - lots of odd sketches detailing the goings-on, but no cameras allowed inside.
But I decided to break from tradition today and post a picture of me standing in the chicken run holding Clementine and Sookie. It's not a very flattering photo, but it's how I am on a typical day with the boys. I thought it was better than a Glamour Shot of me wearing a jaunty cowboy hat with prom hair and my thumb in the collar of a bedazzled denim shirt. Not that I have one of those pictures, of course. But here I am holding Clementine and a very wiggly Sookie.
When I look at the photo I realize I look 10 years older than I did last year. I realize I've eaten way too much Halloween candy and wish I'd brushed my hair that day instead of rolling out of bed into my clothes. I added in the mental notes that I make when I see the photo. It's good for my neuroses to put my mental ramblings into notes on a photo - or so says my court-appointed therapist.
The small child attempting to pull my jeans down is extra special, don't you think? He is the sole reason I wear a belt. I think I'll stick to pictures of the pets, the kids and the plants from now on.