#10, #11, #12

Fourth grade. Recovered some cuteness. You can't see it, but that necklace is a music note pendant that my dad gave me. I loved it so much. I wish I still had it. Somehow, my teeth had either come in sufficiently or I had learned how to smile with them covered. And, of course, I loved that dress.







And then came fifth grade. Can you tell this is the year Mom let me pick out my own clothes? I'll have you know that was a very hot outfit. It had leggings, people. I thought I was the queen of the 5th grade when I came swaggering in wearing that sweet look. The popular girls - Candy and Jill - loved it.




And here is how I entered junior high. I tried to redo that ponytail in the bathroom right before the picture. I couldn't get it straight. I was sad when I got the pictures back and saw that it was to the side. Now, I think that it looks better like that. But you can see on my face that I was not feeling it. I look scared. I remember feeling scared a lot of the time at that age. I never knew what was going on around me, who was the right person to talk to, what to say to people. Most of that hasn't changed, I guess. People don't believe me when I say that I feel shy. I think that it is more accurately called social anxiety. Back then, I just was really quiet around groups at school. Now, I talk instead.

This is where the golden halo of childhood starts to fade. I hardly have any memories of the tween years, and none of them are really worth the brain cells they are occupying. Well, in 2 days we'll have done with the school pictures, and we won't have to think about them any more.