Yearbook Apprehension...Humiliation, or Time Capsule?

Senior year is an exciting time. There's senior skip day, prom, graduation, and pranks. So many fun things fill my daughters itinerary right now. But the one unexpected, the one that seems to be 'the biggest' deal, is planning how her yearbooks going to remember her. Photos, bios, and Blurbs. It all seems to be huge!

Starting in middle school, the kids have always gotten a yearbook. They are pretty much the same. A few miscellaneous photo's and the group pictures. I was a bit surprised to see so much stock put in this years book.

There was never talk of professional photography, or wardrobe changes before. And to make it even worse, there are dozens of gal pals calling her all hours, in peril over the same issues.

Trying to understand this unexpected fixation, I asked myself what was so unique about this one? Why did this one hold such reverence over the others? All the girls were acting nuts! Like this was the ultimate yearbook or something.

I decided to drag out her older ones, from the box they were stored in, in her room and thumbed through. She was so fresh faced. There was a difference already in just a year. I though she would get a giggle out of looking at mine, so I unloaded them from the garage. A smile painted her lips as she looked at the picture, then embarrassment flushed her face when she read my senior quote. It was staring to become obvious what she was afraid of.

Grinning, I told her someday when she was older, it wouldn't be something to be embarrassed over. Reminding her that when I was her age, I felt some apprehension, but as an adult, it was neat to be able to watch how I evolved. I was happy it was there.

Her reaction was to question whether my feeling would have changed if my parent's had shown it to new friends, pulling it out when I came home to visit from college. I assured her I would not do something like that to her, and questioned whether that was her fear. I know if my parent's would have done that I would have been mortified. But that didn't mea
I wasn't still happy to have it.

Yearbooks are both humiliating, and a time capsule. Changing just like we do, chronicling our evolution. As we get older we learn to appreciate them more. Having a little reminder of how things were, and not to stress so much. It's funny how at the time we did stress about it. Now, we were both giggling as I put the books away. She finally got it. The day would come where she would appreciate this time capsule. A little piece of who she was.