In the midst of packing and sorting

And trying to find where I put Sam's summer clothes.

I came across a tote of photos that did not make the cut to be reinstated in the family gallery.

And had the following thought:
If, God forbid, something happens to me, I want my kids to know that their mom would NOT think it would be funny to run her Glamour Shot with the obituary.


I can't blame hormones for my somewhat irrational state. Well, unless lack of hormones is the culprit.

I think it started when Olivia said to me, completely out of the blue, "Omee, I'm going to miss you."
I'm a mess.

But I bought new bras.

OK, I'll be back sometime when I have a rational thought.