This is for you, posterity...

(Meet Boney, Shrimp's Science Camp Creation.)

Every year since 2003 when we bought our first digital camera, I have managed to max out my photo space for the month of July. This year is no different as I scroll through the 1299 pictures, trying to decide which ones to fiddle with, which ones to post, which ones to delete. That last one is hard for me--I am, by nature, a pack rat in the truest sense of the term. There is nothing too small or too ridiculous for me to attach sentimental interest and want to keep forever. I can only thank God that He sent me my dear friend, Amanda, as a roommate my freshman year in college. She taught me the joy of dejunking and decluttering. Still, I find myself flinching as I dispose of the artwork from my kids, even if it's ripped, recolored on by a stray three-year-old, or a little freaky looking when you get up to pee in the dark of the night...

So what do I do when the dejunker and the pack rat in me have a clash of the titans? My brilliant husband's suggestion over the years has been to take a picture of the object. Or scan it. Or if all else fails, put it away and look at it again in a few months or a year when I may have reached enough closure to let it go. This has saved me time an again when I start to feel possesive of a particularly well-decorated cake, or nicely carved pumpkin. And I'm counting on it to get me through the rough stage of sorting through baby gear after this baby. It's possible that you will find me still holding onto that Fisher Price Kick'n'Learn piano my dad sent me after Bub was born, warning that a drum set was next... And we won't even delve into the two tubs of stuffed animals from my youth that I just can't seem to ditch, despite several attempted weedings...
These warring tendencies have seen to it that I purchase a 1 Terabyte external harddrive on which I now store thousands and thousands of pictures. Many which I could delete, and many which, according to Derek, I should delete. (Love ya, babe!) I can understand him not liking the funky bedhead pics, and the accidental cleavage he caught of some random woman on the beach. But what about Australia, located about 2 cm NW of my bellybutton, and grossly stretched on my preggo belly? Or my melasma moustache which has gotten progressively darker with each pregnancy?
These are things of beauty, landmarks that need documenting for future posterity! In short, I think he should be proud of the many "health" pictures I take. It sort of reminds me of the sea captain that is admiral of Lydia the Tattooed Lady's navy... (Click here for the always wonderful Muppet version.) Who else can say they have a picture of their wife's warts and eczema on their harddrive?

(Tell me this doesn't look exactly like Australia!!)